Pure Joy: The Dogs We Love
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER
In this moving memoir, Danielle Steel tells the story of how she met a dog the size of a mouse with a personality that could light up an entire room. From Minnie’s arrival at home in San Francisco to clothes-shopping jaunts in Paris, her adventures provide the perfect backdrop for a heartfelt look at the magic that dogs bring to our lives, and how they become part of the family, making indelible memories.
We meet Steel’s childhood pug, James; and Elmer, the basset hound who was steadfastly at her side in her struggling days as a young writer; Sweet Pea—unveiled in a Tiffany box for a dog-loving husband—and all those lucky dogs who shared a household of nine children, other canines, and one potbellied pig. As she reflects on the beloved pets who have brought joy, and sometimes chaos, to her home through the years, Steel also shares her thoughts on the trials and tribulations of bringing a new dog into a household, the challenges of housebreaking and compatibility, the losses we feel forever.
Filled with colorful characters (human and otherwise), delightful photographs, practical wisdom drawn from long experience, and brimming with warmth and insight on every page, Pure Joy is a love letter to this special relationship—and one of the most charming books yet from the incomparable Danielle Steel.
Praise for Pure Joy
“The mega-selling [Danielle Steel] shares happy memories of her numerous dogs. . . . Steel brings readers into her life, recounting delightful moments with her many dogs, the dogs her children have owned, and her newest friend, Minnie, her tiny Chihuahua. . . . Plainly told with honesty and affection, these stories are an affirmation of the timeless connection between humans and their canine companions.”—Kirkus Reviews
“Steel doesn’t just love to write blockbusters; she loves dogs. Here’s her valentine to all the dogs she’s raised (looking to be mostly of the small sort), with lots of black-and-white photos throughout. A heady commercial combo.”—Library Journal
of the dogs I’ve given people, I don’t know where I got the courage to do it. But something told me it was just right. I haven’t done it often, but often enough to have potentially made some mistakes, but so far I haven’t. That’s a miracle in itself. My next gift of a dog was equally brave, possibly even more so. A very, very dear friend, well into her eighties, had been struggling with cancer but was doing well. She was stable and seemed to have the situation in good control. She spent every
Thanksgiving with us, and that year she said more than once at dinner how much she wanted a dog. She had been “sharing” a dog with a friend who let her dog stay with her, and she said she was ready for her own. My kids responded immediately as soon as my friend went home. “Mom, you have to get Isabella a dog!” I countered their pleas with reason—my friend wasn’t young, she’d been sick, she had help but lived alone. And unlike my other friend, she didn’t have a husband to help her with the dog.
opened my refrigerator. I would come home from work (as an advertising copywriter) to find Elmer sprawled out in the kitchen, exhausted after eating everything in the fridge. I finally had to put a gate on the kitchen, or he would have eaten me out of house and home, but I loved him. Bassets are basically hunting dogs, so the minute you open a door, they take off like a shot. He ran away dozens of times, and I would find him halfway across town. Another not-so-charming trait is that they “bay,”
have spent a lifetime worrying about how what I do will impact other people. I have been a mother since I was nineteen, earlier than most. And I was a wife for thirty-six years, starting at seventeen. For all of that time, and even now, with adult kids, I’ve had to think about how what I did affected someone else. Was it good for them? Their needs had to come first, and I wanted it that way, and still do. I don’t want the choices I make to adversely affect them or the common good. The family
you looking for?” I said I didn’t know, but whatever it was, I would know it when I saw it. I knew I had to fall in love with it, because otherwise all the work, time, energy, and love I’d have to invest in it just wouldn’t be worth it. I tried to explain that to me, a dog, like a house or especially a person, has to be about “romance.” The friend rolled his eyes at me. And by then I figured that I probably wouldn’t get a dog to travel with me after all, since I had looked at dogs of every breed,