Philip and Kootch struggle to find a way to save their beloved dog, Frank, who has been threatened with shooting if it bothers a crotchety neighbor's prize rabbit and who brings home the rabbit one day.
What a profoundly strange book this is, feeling like the sort of anecdote your grandparents would tell at Christmas as a kid, when they’ve outstayed their welcome and you want them to just go home. It’s got a weird combination of sentimentality and black humour that should work but somehow doesn’t, and English’s beautiful art somehow adds to this weird cloying sensation with it all feeling somehow a bit doomy and full of impending catastrophe. It just doesn’t work for me at all