The people who love this book--and lots and lots do--I'm practically unique in failing to be charmed--call this "sweet" and "charming." It's about a dog, Skip, who Willie Morris got as a gift at nine-years-old in 1943. And more than that, it's about his life growing up with his dog in Mississippi. I guess I kept waiting for a plot to show up. But this isn't To Kill a Mockingbird. Or Sounder. Or anything I could find that resembled a plot. I think this is too... gentle a story for the likes of me. Too anecdotal. With prose called "spare" in the blurbs I found just too simplistic. And for me the book was about as exciting as being taken through someone else's family album. If there was any conflict (which is just about the definition of plot) I surely missed it. At least at 118 pages it was short.