The Dog Thief and Other Stories

By: Jill Kearney / Narrated By: Wes Super

Length: 4 hrs and 53 mins

Comical, and not in a good way, narration overwhelms what miiiiiight be a good little collection…

I’m torn, I tell you, torn. I don’t know whether The Dog Thief and Other Stories is a gem of a collection or whether it’s, when all is over and done with, repugnant.

All I know is that the narration by Wes Super is waaaaay over the top from the get-go. I hate it when narrators do all sorts of juggling and vocal gyrations in an attempt to convey different characters, and Super does this in blazes. What emotion is present in the writing is amplified by characters who are buffoons coming off as BUFFOOOOONS, and women coming through with shrill falsettos.

I tried to listen to what was underneath all the squealing, and growling, and shrieking, and when I could manage to get the gist of the words, this seems like a supremely well-written set of short stories. But how much, really, are ya gonna get outta something when the text reads that the character whispers something, and the narrator blares it out in ear-shattering bellows?

Add to that, author Jill Kearney has a fascination with society’s “marginalized”, the potheads and dealers, the hoarders and drifters, the alcoholics, the elderly living in squalor. Sounds right up my alley, doesn’t it? Especially when animals figure into each and every story.

Welllll, it miiiiiiight’ve been good, but even going by the writing, I can’t say that I liked it. There’s a foreword saying that it’s about one town with many small miracles and one felony, but I could barely find a miracle in it. There is some dog-thieving, to be sure—a lot of the stories center on mistreated, abused, neglected, tormented animals, with those who survive it all perHAPS getting a second chance through a Good Samaritan’s thievery. But for the most part, it’s just animals living in unbearably horrible circumstances: How on earth do we expect good lives for the animals when their humans are impoverished and unable to take care of themselves?

So there’s that quandary: Don’t the poor have the right to have animal love and companionship in their lives? But even if that means the animals have to live in squalid conditions and vet care is unaffordable? And to most of the characters in this set, living with drug addiction and hanging out with crooks and society’s nitty gritty underbelly, that’s their reality. They’re zonked out overnight from pot binges all day; they’re dying from overdoses of meth; they’re sneaking into their exes houses for a hot shower and to steal cigarettes and money from the tip jar; they’re elderly and living in stench, all alone now that their one companion dog has died.

I dunno, maybe I just wasn’t in the mood for it, cuz usually I’m all OVER that. I LIKE it when authors are brave enough to show us all aspects of our society, the less fortunate who just need a chance, even the less fortunate who will always blow their chances through poor choices. I respect the author who challenges me to look at the sordid.

But, again—dunno—maybe it’s just that this set of totally unfortunate individuals only made me wanna retch rather than weep. And the only self-aware characters were Elizabeth—high ear-splitting falsetto as per Wes Super’s uber-distracting narration, and Animal Control—a man without a name. They act with a sense of right and wrong in their hearts but that, with a single other instance, is about as far as feel-good moments go in this collection.

If you’re into the absolute ugly underbelly of society, if you’re okay with rampant drug use, and animal neglect due to an inability to care at best and utter cruelty at worst, you’re in for a real treat cuz that’s what you’ll find within this 4+ hours of listening.

Me? I’m just glad I’ve not cleaned my ears in some time—I think the wax saved my poor eardrums from the screeeeeeching and high pitches…!