Nonfiction review: Animal Magnetism: My Life With Creatures Great and Small

NONFICTION
In the 1960s, an albino groundhog often scampered along the edge of state Route 151 in the Nelson County community of Greenfield.

Albino animals were no stranger to the rural area, but longtime residents could not recall a previous albino whistle-pig (as Southerners say; Northerners prefer woodchuck).

After several years, the critter was gone, long before author Rita Mae Brown bought a nearby farm -- "Virginia, to me, is paradise," she writes -- and established herself as a permanent resident.

Brown -- whose love for animals is profound and whose farm is home to a menagerie of the domesticated and the wild -- might well have been fascinated by the groundhog. And her readers will find "Animal Magnetism: My Life With Creatures Great and Small" a moving and charming book that takes dead aim at the notion that humans are a superior species.

"Looking back," Brown writes, "I realize that my whole life has been lived with and through animals. Other people's significant dates include first kiss, first physical congress and attendant drama, first marriage, first child, first job -- well, you get the idea. For me, it's first cat, first dog, first horse, first cow, and so on. And each of them taught me something."

Brown shares those lessons in "Animal Magnetism," a breezy memoir through which most of the critters and many of the people in her life meander.

Among them are:

• Mickey, a cat who preceded Brown in her parents' lives and whose purring is Brown's first memory.

• Suzie Q, a horse who belonged to a neighbor but from whom the young Brown learned equine care. Today, she's a devoted horsewoman, an avid foxhunter (in the U.S., the pursued fox isn't killed) and master of the Oak Ridge Fox Hunt Club.

• Charlie and Cappy, two mistreated and malnourished beagles whom Brown and her maternal grandfather saved (by stealing, but hey, lives were at stake) and whose rescue led Brown into a life of working with abused animals.

• Franklin, her paternal grandmother's parrot. The rigidly proper Mawmaw and little Rita Mae disliked each other, so the child taught Franklin a naughty word for excrement, which, a shocked Mawmaw reported, he uttered quite often.

• Foxes of apparently different religious persuasions -- a red fox that lived near Trinity Episcopal Church and a gray one that resided near Catholic St. Mary's Chapel, both tiny houses of worship near Arrington in Nelson County.

• Sneaky Pie, the tabby cat Brown credits as her collaborator on the "Mrs. Murphy" mystery series. "She'd always follow me into the workroom," Brown writes. "She stayed until each chapter was finished." Sneaky Pie lived to be 19; Brown's writing partner now is Sneaky Pie II, also known as Ibid.

• Godzilla, a plump Jack Russell terrier who likes to jump in other vehicles, only to be discovered down the road. Sometimes, she stays with her hosts for a couple of days. "In this way she acquired many treats," Brown writes. "People thought the poor dear would be longing for home. The poor dear longed to be the center of attention. She was, and still is." Though she dumped Brown for a neighbor who treats her like royalty, she makes daily visits to her former human.

That's a small selection of the many riches that Brown weaves into this tapestry of tenderness. And the choices don't include many of her eccentric kinfolk; Brown makes them irresistibly intriguing. As for the animals, she has a simple message: Love them, protect them and be enriched by them.

If only for a few hours, "Animal Magnetism" will dispel your stress, evoke your laughter and produce your tears -- and it will be time well spent. As Brown writes, "Every now and then it's good to walk away from whatever burdens you, pick up a ball, and throw it for the dog."

How true. And how good of Brown to share these sometimes opinionated, often funny, always touching stories, rendered with compassion and irreverence, love and humility.

Contact Jay Strafford at (804) 649-6698 or .