I'll Take Animals (You Can Have People), despite its title, is not meant to be antipeople (or anti-anything for that matter); it's just pro-animals. Animals (with rare exceptions-alligators, say-and perhaps, one cat) are so much easier to live with. The animals who inhabit this book are presented in little vignettes held together by a slender autobiographical thread. Dogs, cats, and birds hog most of the space, but other animals get their turn as well. A strong-willed bunny, in particular, hops through a fair number of pages. A possum, a squirrel, an airborne Russian brown bear, and a racehorse (rider attached, more or less) all make an appearance. Even a few bugs manage to crawl through these pages. Pierre is clearly the king of the canine (or any) hill, the very best that poodledom had to offer. No kennel club has ever seen his likes. He had the pedigree all right, but pom-poms and all that hype were not for him. Family dog is what he wanted to be, and family dog he was. Brownie lacked the papers (mutts don't get them), but he was a class act just the same. As for Nap, He may or may not have had a pedigree. I don't know. All I know is that he was a German shepherd, and he raised me. The other canines-Poo, Loopy, Wally, et al.-never formally became part of our family; we loved them nonetheless. The felines ranged from Smiley (worst) to Charlie and Coco (tied for best). Little Toot had the potential to make it a triple tie, but we only knew her for a few days. Our avians included ducks in Switzerland and Orange County, an aggressive hummingbird (aren't they all?) and two pairs of doves and their broods. To those who see anthropomorphism in every line, move on, but if you are humble enough to share the possibility of human emotions in other species, read and enjoy.