


Apollo, too, is grieving, in his doggy way-after his master’s death, he waited by the door round the clock (“you can’t explain death to a dog,” says Wife Three) now, in the woman’s care, he throws himself listlessly on the bed, all 180 pounds of him. And so, in the midst of her overwhelming grief for the man whose life has anchored hers, the woman agrees to take in the animal, despite the exceedingly clear terms of her rent-stabilized lease. Apollo is a majestic, if aging, Great Dane, whom her friend-like all the human characters, unnamed-found abandoned in Brooklyn and kept, against the rather reasonable protests of his third and final wife.

Quietly brilliant and darkly funny, Nunez's ( Sempre Susan, 2011, etc.) latest novel finds her on familiar turf with an aggressively unsentimental interrogation of grief, writing, and the human-canine bond.Īfter her best friend and mentor's suicide, an unnamed middle-aged writing professor is bequeathed his well-behaved beast of a dog.
