From Publishers Weekly
This follow-up to Tarte's popular
Enslaved by Ducks, which introduced the somewhat neurotic writer; his supportive wife, Linda; and their animals—first a bunny and then an expanding menagerie of parrots, ducks, turkeys, cats and more bunnies—has a somewhat darker undertone, but should still delight readers with its humorous "Dave Barry on a farm" sensibility. Tarte begins with an admission that his life of caring for 30-odd animals had become pretty run-of-the-mill, and that he "longed for the unexpected, and that was always a mistake." What he gets, over the next five years, includes his father's death, his mother's diagnosis with Alzheimer's, a garden pest control/philosopher who doesn't really know anything about gardening, and the sudden deaths of some of his favorite pets. Despite the many wacky barnyard moments, Tarte doesn't play it safe: he deftly explores his concern that "dark undercurrents had risen to the top like worms after a rain, and the worms were now in charge." But with the help of family, friends and a new parrot named Bella, he overcomes his setbacks and sees that the "mixture of wildness and comfort" created by his beloved animals "was life itself in miniature."
(Mar. 16) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
On the web-footed heels of
Enslaved by Ducks (2003), Tarte serves up another helping of his always interesting life surrounded by animals. From the first chapter, when Stanley Sue, a parrot, is discovered chewing up the wooden bread box, the reader is plunged into the often chaotic world of the Tartes, in which Bob is obsessing about the hose demon or the whereabouts of his mother's lost purse and wife Linda is popping another gel pack into the microwave to soothe her bad back. Along the way we meet Lulu, a spoiled Pekin duck; Moobie, a large white cat who insists on Tarte holding her water bowl; and Bertie, a rabbit who lost his tail to Stanley Sue. Mixed in with animal adventures are the realities of daily life, of alleged master gardeners who don't understand soil, and of Bob's mother, whose increasing signs of Alzheimer's disease weave a softly melancholy thread through the narrative. What Tarte discovers is that his animals give him his center and focus and that for all the headaches they can cause, they also provide a form of sanity.
Nancy BentCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
