My husband and I are three-time greyhound adopters, and we said a sad farewell to our last hound in March. Lahni was nearly thirteen years old, and was the hardest luck case in our bunch. She had been adopted out, then returned to the agency about nine months later. Upon inquiring why, we learned she hadn’t done well being on her own during the day. Once back at the agency she was allowed to roam free in the hall because she wouldn’t tolerate being crated. Lahni had languished for over a year in this state of limbo while other dogs with fewer issues came and went.

We had actually been to this place on several occasions to meet and walk different dogs, following the heartbreaking loss of our first greyhound, Abby. We were determined to hold out on adopting again until we felt the same magic spark we’d experienced with her. Unfortunately, none of the candidates had stood out for us. One day after another failed attempt, we offered to walk Lahni. She wasn’t a consideration for us given her anxiety issues, but she looked like she could use a change of scenery.

Outside the confines of the kennel, a whole new dog emerged. She was in her glory! She had a jaunty little bounce to her step, sighting on everything that moved and with ears constantly perked up at attention, while her nose sniffed the breeze and then, every few feet, the ground. While I’m at it, I might as well mention that she had the largest ears I’ve ever seen on a greyhound. If I didn’t have the National Greyhound Association registration with her pedigree I might wonder if she was actually a purebred greyhound, owing to those elephantine antennae. But I digress. Her transformation on our walk was remarkable. While the other dogs had dutifully gone along with us, this one was on a mission. When we eventually turned back, she was crestfallen, and her pace slowed considerably.

As we made our way back we considered the situation anew. Yes, she had issues and might take some work. However it was beginning to dawn on us that we could look for the rest of our lives and never find another Abby. Lahni could also be waiting the rest of her life for someone. Maybe we should be thinking about something new: giving back. While they’d warned us about her anxiety being alone during the day, we secretly wondered if maybe the former adopter or environment just hadn’t been a good match. (When I later recalled this notion, I had a great laugh at my own expense – oh the hubris!)

We decided to go for it, and the adventure began. After an unsettling week or so during which we’d regularly come home to find Lahni had been sick to her stomach while we were at work, we took her to the vet. Following a series of expensive tests that showed nothing was wrong, the vet gave it to us straight: She needs company. Which is how we found ourselves in the hitherto unimaginable position of getting a dog for our dog. Back to the agency we went, and as luck would have it on that day, there was a new arrival. A brindle, like our first, but that is where the similarity ended. This one stared at us, wide-eyed, unmoving. As I crouched in front of her, looking into those unblinking eyes, I felt there was someone in there, waiting to be set free. And do you know what? There was. But that’s another story.

Lahni was a new dog once she had company. While she never did warm to me as much as she did my husband, we were able to give her a good life with lots of walks. With the addition of two greyhounds, our formerly carefree days became more complicated, expensive, and sometimes even circus-like, but mainly joyful and never boring. Now that they are gone, the quietude of our home feels less like peace and more like loneliness. Although we likely have not owned our last greyhound, we are taking a moment to regroup. It is difficult for us to wait, but easier on our would-be dog, given current schedules.

This lonely, dog-free time in our lives is no doubt what had me reaching for The Dog Stays in the Picture: Life Lessons from a Rescued Greyhound, by Susan Morse. She decides to adopt a retired racer as her last two teens head off to college. This choice disrupts the plans she and her husband have for entering their liberated, empty nest years. Although this didn’t really scratch my itch for a dog-lover’s read I kept at it, in part comforted by the knowledge that I wasn’t the only person to be tolerated by a greyhound while a spouse is adored. In spite of the title, the book is more of a general memoir; stories about the challenges of adopting a greyhound are woven together with past and present reflections on her college-bound children, traveling-for-work actor husband and even a health crisis. And perhaps that is the point: making room for this singular breed in a life underway takes a little bit of doing, but will pay you back. Given the absolute lack of real-world context for dogs who have only known a racetrack environment, their general confusion is understandable (what is my purpose here?) As is their inexperience with practical concerns such as stairs (how do they work?) and glass doors (solid). The foibles Morse describes are familiar and perhaps even endearing to me.

National Adopt-a-Greyhound month is in April, and although the agencies we used when adopting are now defunct, there are numerous others still working to find homes for retired racing greyhounds. Visit the Greyhound Project website for a directory of agencies and other resources. To learn more about the breed, check out Cynthia Branigan’s Adopting the Racing Greyhound, or Retired Racing Greyhounds for Dummies, by Lee Livingood.

Kirstie David is the Literacy/Outreach Librarian at the Morrill Memorial Library in Norwood, MA. Look for her article in the January 16, 2020 issue of the Transcript and Bulletin.

With another Christmas gone by and the New Year approaching I’ve just about finished my annual tradition of binge-watching holiday movies. Ever since childhood I’ve associated the month of December and its corresponding onslaught of decorations, carols and cookies with a television set airing non-stop seasonal programming. As I’ve gotten older, though, my tastes have changed.

Once upon a time we didn’t have Netflix or Hulu or DVRs. Before then we didn’t have DVDs or cable television, or even VHS tapes. During my childhood we had no option but to scour the (print) TV guide that came with the Sunday newspaper and keep track of when Christmas specials would air. I could hardly contain my excitement anticipating the animated How the Grinch Stole Christmas, A Charlie Brown Christmas, and Frosty the Snowman. My absolute favorites, though, came out of the Rankin/Bass stop-motion studio and included Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer (featuring Bumble the abominable snowman) and The Year Without a Santa Claus (featuring the brothers Heat Miser and Snow Miser).

Back then we had to mark our calendars and tune in at specified dates and times to watch these classics. Nowadays you can look up any of these in the Minuteman Library Network catalog and borrow them, or likely find them available on-demand to stream with the touch of a finger. This convenience allows for the discovery of hundreds of holiday films, and I have been enjoying watching some less-traditional picks this year.

If you tire of wholesome classics like Miracle on 34^th Street and White Christmas, I recommend The Night Before, starring the comedic duo Seth Rogan and Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Along the same irreverent lines, R-rated options include Bad Santa, starring Billy Bob Thornton, Office Christmas Party, starring Jason Bateman, and A Bad Moms Christmas, with Mila Kunis and Kristen Bell. Rife with drunkenness, drug use, and exotic dancers, these choices may not be kid-friendly, but could lift the spirits of harried grownups this holiday season.

Amid the chaos of shopping and preparations, some movies offer relief by depicting Christmases gone horribly wrong. Imagine cute gifts turning into monsters and wreaking havoc as the mogwai do in Gremlins. Think your family is high maintenance? In The Ref, a burglar takes an entire family Christmas party hostage and the attendees become so unbearable you find yourself empathizing with the criminal. In the alternative classic, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, hapless Clark Griswold (Chevy Chase) finds his plans to engineer the perfect holiday going terribly awry.

As a horror movie fan, I gravitate toward Halloween flicks more readily than the Christmas classics, but fortunately some cross-genre films eliminate the necessity to choose between the two. Some, of course, fall into the so-bad-they’re-good category, such as Silent Night Deadly Night and Jack Frost (and its sequel). I genuinely and non-ironically enjoyed Krampus though, and just discovered Rare Exports, which may rise to the top of my all-time favorites list. Both films hearken back to mythological origins of today’s sanitized Santa Claus. Krampus brings the eponymous Central European creature into the dysfunctional American family setting in a decent yet typical slasher film. The Finnish gem, Rare Exports, focuses on Joulupukki, the pagan Christmas goat. In a rare feat it combines comedy, horror, lovely cinematography, and touching father/son relationships.

What if you’re sick of Christmas altogether? Adam Sandler’s Eight Crazy Nights stands out as the most well-known of the few Hanukkah movies out there, and will have you humming “The Chanukah Song” from its soundtrack till New Year’s Day. Speaking of which, New Year’s Eve, while met with mixed reviews, features an all-star cast directed by Garry Marshall. Departing from holidays altogether, The Shining and Misery, both based on Stephen King books, depict what can happen as a result of getting snowed in. On a more upbeat note, the heartwarming Edward Scissorhands has beautiful ice sculptures and snowfall without overabundant Christmas imagery.

During the last week of the year I still have some appetite left for yuletide viewing. I plan to settle in with a hot chocolate for a Die Hard and Die Hard 2 double feature to watch John McClane endure a couple of  harrowing Christmas Eves. Perhaps I’ll venture out to the cinema to add something new to my list. Blumhouse Productions, the company known for Halloween and Happy Death Day, has just released Black Christmas, in theaters now!

Lydia Sampson is the Assistant Director at the Morrill Memorial Library in Norwood, MA. Look for her article in the January 2nd, 2020 issue of the Transcript and Bulletin.

Painting by Mary Blair

When I was about three or four years old, my parents took me to my first movie in a theater – Disney’s Snow White. They weren’t sure if I would be able to sit still, or if I would be overwhelmed by the darkness or the sound. But I sat there, completely entranced, for the entire film. Only when it ended and the lights came up, did I start to sob. My parents were startled, and as they ushered me out of the theater, they kept reassuring me, “It was just a movie! The witch isn’t real!” But as I sobbed through the parking lot, the adults within earshot burst into laughter as I choked out “I… just… didn’t want it… to end!”

This is a memory that has stayed with me, and I have always thought about it through the lens of storytelling and its universal power. I have always loved stories in all forms, especially books and movies. But recently, as I saw a colleague checking out a book about the female artists who worked at the Walt Disney Studios, something else occurred to me. I had thought for years about the stories and intricate artwork in Disney, but had never known much about who was behind it all. I needed to learn more about the women who helped tell these powerful stories.

The Queens of Animation by Nathalia Holt, is the story of the women who worked to create and shape the animated Disney movies, from 1937’s Snow White to Frozen. Early on, these were women who were inspired by seeing some of the first Disney cartoons, like Steamboat Willie, and made it their mission to work at the studio.

Unsurprisingly, it was difficult to find work as a woman in animation in the 1930s.  Job postings were listed in areas of Men’s Work and Women’s, and most professional jobs did not mix genders. Originally, the Disney studios only employed women in its Ink and Paint Department. Talented male artists were hired as animators or assistant animators, and they were the artists who worked with the Story Department to create the characters and stories that needed to be drawn. Once completed, the images were sent over to the women of the Ink and Paint Department to trace in smooth India ink onto the transparent cells, and after the advent of color movies, paint them. Though integral to every picture- films that are considered some of the most timeless classics in American cinema- these women were never credited as artists, and were paid a fraction of what male artists made.

But Walt Disney was a man of chance and innovation. Though he did not set out to employ women, he also recognized talent when he saw it. Holt’s book centers on five women who helped make Disney into the company we know today: Bianca Majolie, Grace Huntington, Sylvia Holland, Retta Scott, and Mary Blair.

The first woman he hired was an old classmate of his, Bianca Majolie, whom he took on as a storyboard artist in 1935. Bianca would create many story treatments for the company, and helped mold films like Snow White, Bambi, and Pinocchio (which she also translated from the original Italian for the studio).

In 1936, Disney hired Grace Huntington as a writer. Grace would lend her intellect and wit to the early Disney films, and she was a great screenwriter. She was also a record-setting pilot, and what she really wanted to do was fly. Unfortunately, even during a shortage of male pilots during World War II, no one would hire a woman.

Sylvia Holland, the second woman to be hired in the storyboard department, was an accomplished artist and musician. Her musical knowledge would prove invaluable, helping Disney find the right music to use in his films, which would shape emotional elements of the story. Holland chose the music from the Russian ballet, The Nutcracker, to use in the film Fantasia. The use of this music in the film helped reintroduce the ballet to America, where it had previously been a failure with audiences.

Retta Scott would become the first female animator given screen credit in a Walt Disney Animation Studios picture. This is remarkable, as screen credits were rare for most animators, and generally the competition was cut-throat among the most senior animators working on a film. Retta worked on several Disney films before becoming an artist at Golden Books, where she helped create some of the most successful children’s books of the time.

Eventually, Holt focuses on the most influential of her subjects, Mary Blair. Blair was brought in as a storyboard artist, and she would influence the company like no one else. Originally, Blair’s husband Lee was hired as an animator, but Mary was the one who would enchant Walt Disney and become one of his favorite artists. Her playful paintings, with bright colors and flat, modern style would inspire the feel of films like Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland, and many more. She would be the artist Disney would return to again and again, to create the magical feel for his stories. Blair created an exhibit for Disney’s presentation at the 1964-1965 World’s Fair entitled “It’s a Small World.” The concept would prove so popular that he replicated it in his theme parks and these attractions are still active today. After working for Disney, Mary would join her lifelong friend Retta Scott at Golden Books, bringing her colorful modern style to children’s literature.

These exceptional women were largely forgotten for many years, and most of them did not enjoy much recognition in their lifetimes. Only recently has their work been rediscovered and properly studied.  In addition to Nathalia Holt’s The Queens of Animation, Mindy Johnson has written two books about the women of Disney. Ink and Paint: The Women of Walt Disney Animation is a coffee table book featuring photographs of the women who worked at the Disney Studios, and abundant samples of their art. Johnson also created a book aimed at a younger audience, Pencils, Pens and Brushes: A Great Girl’s Guide to Disney Animation, which takes her research from Ink and Paint and creates illustrated collected biographies of the female animators. Mary Blair has several books about her, including The Art and Flair of Mary Blair by John Canemaker, a stunning biography and appreciation of her art.

Even though I didn’t know these women’s names, their artwork and craft has been inspiring me throughout my life. Now that I’ve read The Queens of Animation, I know who to thank for the joy some of the timeless Disney films mentioned above provide again and again.

Nicole Guerra-Coon is the Assistant Children’s Librarian at the Morrill Memorial Library in Norwood, MA. Look for her article in the December 26, 2019 issue of the Transcript and Bulletin.

I’ve never been big on New Year’s resolutions. I find them a little depressing, knowing I’ll likely never keep them. I don’t know what it is about the word “resolution,” but it has such a negative connotation for me that I always avoid them. I prefer to set goals. Having goals sounds way more positive to me than making resolutions. Goals are things you can work toward, resolutions are things you have to keep.

I am a member of GoodReads, a social media platform centered around books and reading. When I first joined, I primarily used GoodReads as a way to keep track of the books I’ve read and the titles I wanted to read. But several years ago, GoodReads start challenging it users to a yearly reading goal in January of the new year. Participants can set the number of books they wish to finish reading by the end of December, and a member’s homepage will track their progress toward their goal. I’ve set goals every year since this feature was introduced, and mostly met them. This year, I was very ambitious and hoped to read 25 books. I might fall a few short of that goal as I’ve only read 22 and December is halfway over!

Even if I don’t finish all 25 books by January 2020, I now have a lovely record of everything I’ve read over 2019. As I look back, I can see a few trends. First of all, judging by my 5 star rating system, I’ve read a lot of fantastic books this year. I’ve also discerned a few patterns in my reading during my review. Here are a few books and reading trends I can recommend:

2019 is officially the Year of the Memoir for me. I’ve never been a nonfiction reader and rarely pick up anything but fiction. I would love to say that I purposefully started out 2019 with a desire to try new genres and expand my reading horizons, but I suspect that convenience is what led me to the memoir. The library’s popular Overdrive e-book service has a wonderful feature in its Libby app called “Available Now,” which highlights all titles that are immediately available for download. I was scrolling through this list, desperate to find an audiobook to keep me company on a long drive to New Jersey. I found Amy Poehler’s Yes, Please! and was intrigued. I’d read Tina Fey’s spectacular Bossypants years ago and figured I’d love anything Tina Fey adjacent, especially anything by Poehler, her hilarious work wife and comedic partner in crime.

Yes, Please! is comprised of short vignettes from Poehler’s life as a star on Saturday Night Live, musings on lessons in her personal life, and listicles of life advice. I love Amy Poehler but her disjointed writing along with the disclaimer at the beginning and throughout most of the book that “writing is hard” lets me know she’s not a writer. She’s a great sketch comedian but she ran out of ideas in this book and didn’t know how to string the ones she did have together. The book is filled with amazing anecdotes and guest appearances but that is the limit of its charm. The lists, advice, and many of the insights Poehler provides are somewhat boring and trite, even when read excellently by the author herself.

The two highlights of my excursion into memoir territory were Becoming, by Michelle Obama and Educated, by Tara Westover.  I will be honest and say that I was sure Becoming was not worth the hype before I read it. Once I did read it, I completely understood and became part of the hype. The combination of Mrs. Obama’s raw honesty, touching memories, and no-nonsense straight talk had me devouring all 428 pages. Her ability to weave life lessons in with her story without seeming preachy was endearing and relatable, even when our lives had nothing in common. I was especially moved by her surreal and intense recollections of her time as First Lady and her determination to keep growing as a person.

Educated by Tara Westover is another amazing memoir, albeit in a completely different way. Westover narrates her dark and grim childhood struggles to survive and educate herself as a member of an off-the-grid family in rural Idaho. Her father forbids his children from attending public school, fearing any government involvement in their lives, and Tara is barely homeschooled by her mother and older siblings. She perseveres and gets into college, eventually becoming a Gates Scholar at Cambridge University. But make no mistake; this is a tough read. The book is a series of episodes illustrating the author’s terrible family experiences, with her attempts to physically escape and spiritually make sense of herself and the people she loves. Westover’s descriptions of the many accidents, injuries, and physical and psychological abuse are unflinching and horrifying. Every time she seems to find some hope of separating herself emotionally and physically from her family, she gets sucked back in. But her journey of learning what it means to be educated is not a straight line and perfectly illustrates why the struggle to be yourself is truly worth it, even at a terrible cost.

Reviewing my year in books has revealed another trend: I listen more than I read. I’ve become a real convert to audiobooks this year. Typically, I only read before going to bed. This really limits my reading time and I was frustrated by my slow progress. Audiobooks have allowed me to keep “reading” while doing other mundane tasks like running errands or folding laundry. Listening to audiobooks has also allowed me to tackle longer books than I would normally read. Finally, I’ve learned the importance of a good narrator. Someone with a good voice and ability to vocalize multiple characters is a necessity in the audiobook experience.

Pachinko, by Min Jin Lee and The Priory of the Orange Tree, by Samantha Shannon offer two different but excellent audiobook experiences. Pachinko is the multi-generational story of a Korean family that relocates to Japan in the 1930s and joins the second class citizenship of Zainichi, ethnic Koreans living in Japan. This move affects every member of the family in different ways, and some adapt better than others. Allison Hiroto is a fantastic reader, seamlessly transitioning from character to character without her performance seeming forced or clunky.

The Priory of the Orange Tree is a fantasy novel that features two interwoven narratives, one from the East and the other from the West. Each storyline faces the growing threat from the Nameless One, a terrible slumbering dragon that threatens to end life as we know it unless characters from each part of the world can work together. There are the usual suspects of a fantasy novel: assassins, dragons, and magic. But this book dispenses with the thinly veiled Puritanical ideals of most fantasy tropes and instead presents a feminist narrative that champions diversity.

Looking over my reading list from 2019 has been informative and nostalgic. I’ve read some really great books and discovered new genres. As I start to make my list for 2020, I now have a better idea of where I’ve been and where I should be headed with my reading. If you’ve never kept a reading journal or list, I highly encourage you to try it next year. You may find keeping this New Year’s resolution is easier and more fun than you think.

Kate Tigue is the Head of Youth Services at the Morrill Memorial Library in Norwood, MA. Look for her article in the December 12, 2019 issue of the Transcript and Bulletin.