Wonderful read aloud book about a great dog, some funny friends, an alligator-witch, magic, beautiful images, & lots of heart!
“Dominic” by William Steig
“These villains were never really certain what they wanted. But they knew they liked to be evil, and any convenient way. Being evil was what they were best at; everyone enjoys being best at something.” P.13
“Dominic played his piccolo. He played quite a while, and while he played, Bartholomew Badger passed into the next world with a peaceful smile on his face. Dominic, worried, tried to wake him; then he realized the pig was dead.” P.33
“Dominic went out for a long walk and did a lot of thinking. He was still walking when the stars came out. Mournful, he lay down on the ground and looked at the stars. Life was mysterious. Bartholomew Badger had been alive long before there was a Dominic-long before anyone had even thought there would ever be such a dog. Two hours ago Bartholomew Badger was still alive. But now he was gone. There was no Bartholomew Badger; there was only a memory. His turn was over. Dominic’s turn was still at the beginning. There were many who hadn’t yet even begun to exist, but there they would be, sometime in the future, a whole new world of creatures, some important, some not, and many of them wondering about life just as Dominic was wondering now. It would be their turn, and then Dominic‘s turn would be over. Many of them would think about the past, which is now the present, but by then what was now the future would have become the present.” P.34-35
“Then he leaned on the shovel the rest, the wooden handle warm with his work. The moment he stopped being busy, he felt his heart quake. He had to cry. Life was suddenly too sad. And yet it was beautiful. The beauty was dimmed when the sadness welded up. And the beauty would be there again when the sadness went. So the beauty and the sadness belonged together somehow, though they were not the same at all.” P.35
“I sometimes dream I’m flying,” Dominic volunteered.
“Flying is pure delight,” said Mrs. Fox, “unless you are being chased by birds of prey. There’s a rhythm to fly in and it’s the rhythm of the universe. It’s a cosmic experience. Up there, and especially high up, I feel close to my Maker- I have the conviction that life is eternal and I will see my dad has been again, rest his soul. Floating on air currents, rising with the updrafts of warm air, sliding on the down drops, I feel in perfect harmony with natural events. I feel athletic, graceful. Flying as, of course, the quickest and the straightest way from point A to point B, no obstruction to be moved around, over and under. It’s the best way for traveling south and winter and north in the spring. And it’s ideal for getting a broad view of things. Well, to answer your original question, it would be hard to say which I like best. It is best and its own way.” P.77-78
“It was a moonlight night. All moonlight is magical and puts us under a spell, but some moonlight nights move our tides more than others, and even makes us a little bit daffy. This was such a night. It was out of the question for Dominic to go to sleep, though it was his usual hour for retiring. He wasn’t tired. The night and everything under its influence was alive, awake, and spellbound. Fireflies flickered high and low. It was not clear where the fireflies ended in the stars began.” P.90
“All this in the moon was too much for Dominic‘s overflowing soul. He couldn’t help himself. He raised his head and, straining toward infinity, howled out the burden of his love and longing and sounds more meaningful than words. This unexpected outburst broke the spell for the mice, and they fled in terror, leaving an empty place lighted by the moon and the tiny lanterns.” P.92
“So he walked quietly alongside the goat and they moved into grass over Dominic‘s ears, disturbing to hedgehogs who had been interesting in the moonlight and who made out cries of indignation; and then they went up a small hill and over a hole and into a wood – the goat all the wild holding his own dreamy council – and threw some under brush and out again into an open field and then down a slope and then ankle deep in a cool real and then over some rocks, and finally Dominic had had enough of tracing alongside a somnambulist. He guided the goat into a tree that proved to be unyielding.
“Where am I?” said the goat, with the tree and his embrace. “What am I doing here?”
“You are on planet Earth, embracing a tree in a field under the full moon,” answered Dominic, “and it’s as lovely at night as ever there was since time began.” P.94
“Wow!” said Dominic. “Write, write, write!” he was momentarily angry at the way the truth tends to change his shape and gets more worn and unrecognizable the more it’s passed around.” P.95
“You probably won’t believe me,” said the elephant, “but I can do magic and thereby get anything I wish for. That is to say, I could do magic if I could only remember the magic word. If I ever remember the word, the first thing I’m going to do is wish I never forget it again.” P.98
“It was the trees. The trees were calling him. They began to ride and bend and waved their limbs as if they were yielding under a heavy storm, and made a terrible, creaking, cracking sounds.
News of the bright, brave, generous dog named Dominic had been spreading through the forest for sometime, and the trees that come to love him. More than that, they had become impatient with standing around at silent tableau, doing nothing but looking grand and storing a presentment, indignation, and grief while all the evil-doing, the doom-delivering, of the Doomsday Gang went on.
Now that Dominic, dear dog, was about to be killed in their midst, and the very heart of the woods, the trees removed to speak out, to break their lifelong silence. Dominic heard and woke and saw it all, the gang posed about him, weaponsupraised, but petrified with terror. And at that moment the surrounding tree is bent toward the villains, saying, “Fir Shane! F I E!” P.136
“Evelyn,” she said. “That do you have was mine when I was a child. I loved that doll and always had it with me. One day, when I’ve grown up and decided I was no longer a child, I threw it away. I remember I was standing in a field thinking about life and about myself and about growing up. I became eager for the future and I felt the doll chained me to the past. So I got rid of it. But even while I was walking away from that field, I begin to have doubts. I had been happy and my puppy days. Would I be a happy grown-up? I wondered about an a sort of trance, until I found myself standing in front of an alligator-witch.” P.145