(Full disclosure: I received a free e-ARC for review through Netgalley. Content warning for depictions of transphobia, bullying, and animal cruelty.)
Middle schooler Frankie Bryant knows a lot about bullies. When they came out as nonbinary, Frankie told exactly two people: their mom Diane, and their best friend Dallas - who immediately outed them to the entire school. Now she joins in the "Freakie Frankie" chorus when her classmates mock her. Dallas's older brother Austin is even worse, upping the verbal abuse to physical threats and even assault, ultimately driving Frankie off the baseball team.
So when Frankie spots Austin and his friends taunting a Golden Retriever on their way home from school, they intervene. What was meant to be a heroic effort takes an embarrassing turn when Frankie trips on a tree root - and wakes up in an ornate mansion, surrounded by a pack of talking superhero dogs. They are the Pawtheon, and they suspect that Frankie might be their next Dog Knight, the one human meant to battle the forces of chaos (gremlins and shadows and such) alongside these super-pups. Frankie knows all this because they can communicate with the dogs, thanks to a magic, dog-eared helmet (the "helm").
Frankie must prove their merit by passing a series of trials, each designed to test the six dog virtues of loyalty, kindness, honesty, justice, stubbornness, and smell. But it won't be easy when the forces of evil are conspiring against them. Ditto: their mom's allergies.
THE DOG KNIGHT is a slightly silly, yet utterly charming and touching story about self-discovery, growing up, and doing what's right. In all their awkwardness and self-doubt (not to mention, moments of bravery and heroism) Frankie makes for an engaging protagonist. Their scenes with humans Sam and Nadia and canines Platinum and Good Dane are so delightful! The dogs, of course, threaten to steal the show, but Frankie more than holds their own.
There's so much to love here: talking dogs; a complex, human-canine backstory, complete with gremlins; a nonbinary, drum-playing, demon-slaying MC; a cross-fit-training, badass lawyer mom; a knight helmet with dog ears; a LGBTQ Cinderella moment - need I go on? The vibe does skew a little young for me, but it's perfect for the target demo of 9-12 years.
I do feel like Austin got of a little easy, but I understand the need to take the moral high ground in a book meant for middle schoolers.
Finally, if I had to pick one dog? Yorkshire Terror, if only because I've fostered a few Yorkies of my own (one of whom we nicknamed Tiny Terror).