![]() Biscuit and the Little Pup, a My First I Can Read book, is carefully crafted using basic language, word repetition, sight words, and sweet illustrations-which means it's perfect for shared reading with emergent readers.ĭESCRIPTION : For fans of Clifford and Spot, welcome everybody's favorite little yellow puppy, Biscuit, in an I Can Read adventure!Woof, woof! Arf, arf! There's a new pup in town.When Biscuit finds a little pup in the park, he wants the pup to play with him. In fact, he won't come out of his cozy hideaway at all! Is the little pup lost How will Biscuit get the little pup to come out Join Biscuit as he meets a new friend. But the little pup won't come over to look at Biscuit's ball or to chew on a bone. When Biscuit finds a little pup in the park, he wants the pup to play with him. Woof, woof! Arf, arf! There's a new pup in town. Technology, Engineering, Agriculture, Industrial processesįor fans of Clifford and Spot, welcome everybody's favorite little yellow puppy, Biscuit, in an I Can Read adventure! Reference, Information & Interdisciplinary subjects Hong Kong Golden Dragon Books 2022-2023.The names of good veterinarians are traded in hushed tones at parties like stock market tips, and it’s rumored that we have fire hydrants that are not attached to any pipes - they’re just placed there for the convenience of our dogs.Īnd if you need any more proof of how good a Santa Barbara dog’s life is - it’s been said that Toto, Lassie, and Rin Tin Tin all retired here. There are a lot of older people in this town who treat their dogs like the children or grandchildren they never had or they substitute them for their kids who only visit them once a year. Considering my current situation, revisiting a few adapted paragraphs seems appropriate: Or, you could live the easier “it’s a dog’s life” world, where you might be “a lucky dog” who has his own “dog house,” gets a “doggy bag” at a fancy restaurant, rereads a favorite “dog-eared book,” and maybe even becomes an “underdog” who wins the game because “every dog has its day.”Įither way, things happen fast - because you live your life in “dog years.”Ī few years ago, I wrote the novel The Van Gogh Murders, in which I described Santa Barbara’s infatuation with dogs. To illustrate how pervasive dogs are in our culture, note how many metaphorical dog phrases we use: You can live in an apocalyptic “dog-eat-dog world” in which you spend your “dog days” being “thrown to the dogs,” or get in a “dog fight,” become “dog-tired,” and then get “sick as a dog.” The same person you walked by a dozen times without saying hello to now knows how much time you spend brushing your dog’s teeth. Walking a dog is like spraying a bottle of Instantaneous Conversation on people. Because, in this town, where nearly everyone likes dogs, everyone wants to pet the dog, to know the dog’s name, and to hear stories about him or her (at least you think they do). Walking with a dog is a much different experience than walking alone. It’s kind of like being given a MAGA hat - you don’t really understand what you’re doing you just do it because you get the hat. Because almost all training involves giving treats for doing something: Do this - get a treat do that - get a treat. ![]() Training is more difficult when a dog doesn’t like dog food or, in Oscar’s case, food in general. I like to think of him as coming pre-spoiled. He also insists on having his ears and belly rubbed all the time. And, unlike any other dog I’ve ever known, he refuses to lick up any biscuit crumbs he’s dropped on the floor. In other words, he doesn’t like dog food. Oscar was found wandering the streets of Fresno. My friends assume he’s named Oscar because, as a screenwriter, I realized that it was the only way I was ever going to get one. And he obviously isn’t named after Oscar Wilde, Oscar Robertson, or Oscar de la Renta, because, even though he’s a smart dog, he’s not famously witty, he can’t average a triple-double for a season, and his odor is not one you would associate with a perfume. Even though he’s messy and unkempt just like the character in The Odd Couple - he isn’t named for Oscar Madison. He’s like that cute but scruffy uncle who shows up at family reunions - no one’s really sure where he came from, who he’s related to, or what he does for a living - but you still feed him dinner. No one knows exactly what breed he is, who his family was, or even if he had a family. He came from the shelter without a real name. To him, “Oscar” is just a friendly sound. We got to know him for a few days and named him Oscar. It’s like living in Montecito and admitting that you do your own laundry. No one wants to face that much public scorn and ridicule. When was the last time you heard a Santa Barbarian proudly say that they got their dog from a puppy mill? Of course that’s what you have to say in this dog-loving town.
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