Temple Grandin was profiled in a BBC Horizon documentary a year or two back as `the woman who thinks like a cow'. A somewhat uncomplimentary portrayal you might think, until you appreciate that Grandin is a gifted professor of animal science and champion for autism, and that cows are far more interesting creatures than might often be assumed.

Grandin discovered that her way of viewing the world corresponded very closely to the perceptions of many animals. As a trouble-shooter on farms and ranches across the USA, she found that she could very often just `see' the problems which were scaring cattle and bringing their owners to the brink of despair. Combined with her prolific research and writings, autism has been a rare gift, enabling her remarkable work.

As a novice in the field of animal science, I felt fascinated and challenged by the wide mix of ideas this book presents. Topics as diverse as why pigs enjoy snuggling up to each other and genetic aggression are introduced in easy, layman's terms, giving interesting details about the research but also recognising that scientists don't yet have all the answers. Grandin challenges us to question a lot of what we might believe about animal behaviour - and for that matter autism - and does so with humility and humour.

A wealth of down-to-earth anecdotes ground the research and open questions posed. For example, we learn about a friend's cat who knew when `mother' was entering the lift of their apartment block some 12 floors below and of the prairie dogs of Arizona who've not only evolved a language involving nouns, verbs and adjectives, but even different dialects amongst local colonies!

At the same time, familiar stories are looked at a new light. For example, the story of the German `counting' horse Clever Hans is looked at not as a disappointing scam (it was revealed that Hans couldn't really count), but remarkable for the fact that a horse had taught himself to tune into subtle human cues in the first place. This is just one example of what is often unseen `animal genius'.

Grandin appeals for humane treatment of all animals, which she argues must come through a new understanding of how they interact with their world and how we deal with our husbandry of them.

The joint writing with Catherine Johnson works well, coming across as a conversation between friends (including the reader). But what is remarkable is that Grandin and Johnson manage to present deep insights into both autism and animal communication, as well as linking the two together. Rarely does a book inspire us to think both about the animals around us and our fellow human beings in a new way.

This is a truly wonderful book, and one which I have found myself constantly wanting to recommend to others.

Interesting and informative but not a book to be read on it's own, I think it is an accompaniment to another book "Behaviour problems in dogs"

Glancing across at my bookcase, it strikes me that the observer could be forgiven for thinking that I am a little linear in my interests. It's almost solely devoted to dog-related books.

The latest book to join my already expansive collection of shelf-benders is 'A Dog Year' by Jon Katz. For my copy, the book is subtitled with the phrase: "Rescuing Devon, the most troublesome dog in the world".

Anyone who has ever read and enjoyed the immensely popular 'Marley & Me' by John Grogan, will be right at home with this title. It is certainly based upon the same recipe, though there is no mistaking that the authors have very different styles. I, for one, was thankful for that, as I found John Grogan's style to be a little too rich on sentiment, and I felt that he took too many liberties with his audience, not even bothering to describe the appearance of his family, even though they were crucial to the entire story. Jon Katz does not make these same mistakes. He is careful to keep the story focused on what his audience wants to read about - him and his dogs. In fact, let's face it, it's the dogs we're really interested in.

As is typical with this genre, the story starts with Jon obtaining his dog, Devon, a two year old Border Collie, to add to his family of two loyal and trusted retrievers.

We are then taken, sometimes quite slowly but never uninterestingly, through the inevitable bonding and training processes that all dog owners will be familiar with, as well as the highs and the lows that form part of everyday dog-ownership.

It's all very interesting, that is for certain. It's even heart-breaking in places, particularly when the time comes for him to have to put his ageing and trusty retriever down. I feel little shame in telling you that I had to fight back the tears while reading that particular part of the book.

But, here's the rub... All through reading, I found myself constantly waiting to see evidence that qualified the subtitle "... the most troublesome dog in the world". It just wasn't the case. I can almost guarantee that each reader will know at least one dog which is far worse than Devon. Far, far, worse.

In most respects, he was just a typical Border Collie, a herder with a penchant for tyres, but that really was about it. He stole a chicken from the fridge, but hey, we've all had that happen at some point. We have, right? Interestingly, I noted on the Amazon website, while writing this review, that the subtitle has been changed from the copy that I have to: "A Dog Year: Twelve Months, Four Dogs, and Me". Perhaps I wasn't alone in my feeling that the previous subtitle just didn't accurately reflect the story. Perhaps it was changed for the UK audience? I really don't know. All I know is that he is certainly not the most troublesome dog in the world.

I was happy that the author didn't rely too much on the American geography, something which I feel John Grogan was guilty of in Marley & Me, and so I didn't feel as alienated from the story as I did when I read the latter. I was also happy that the book remained true to its description, telling a story about Jon and his dogs. His family members being mentioned only in passing.

It was a good read, but not a great read. The truth is that, despite all of the failings of Marley & Me, it remains the better read of the two books, as, quite simply, more happens. However, for a British audience, I would still recommend "Walking Ollie" by Stephen Foster above both of these, as we can identify with the specific cultures of the counties mentioned, the landscapes, and the people. It makes for a much more engaging read.

I though the last of the four options that Katz details in this book was for show, to add impact, suspense, a dramatic moment.....I never thought he was serious.

Restricting Orson's space on a farm should not have been that difficult and I am sure the dog would have much preferred this option! (Perhaps the Shaman could ask him which option he would have preferred!).

Or simply try a muzzle when visitors are expected?

For someone who loved his dog so much I was astounded at his decision and stll, days later, cannot believe it (or the 'ease my conscience' ending!)

You need to read this book as an impartial dog lover as the tone of the book is purely from a biologists point of view. Obviously the authors don't have an emotional attachment to any of thier animals as the tone of the book is very much against humans owning pets of any sort as this may be interpreted as enslaving the ignorant animals to do our bidding with no benefit to the animal.
Although some books can be over the top with the emotional point of view of pets I would far rather read something with feeling than this, which left me wondering why the authors own any animals at all.