Parenting Anew, at a Puppy's Beck and Call - New York Times

When the dog owner turned I immediately recognized him as Leon Panetta, the former chief of staff to President Clinton and soon-to-be-named director of the C.I.A. and, later, secretary of defense. Here was one of the world’s most powerful men, and yet in the battle between man and canine, well, let’s just say he could have used reinforcements.

That scene came to mind as I read Jill Abramson’s “Puppy Diaries: Raising a Dog Named Scout.” Ms. Abramson, the executive editor of The New York Times, is a powerful journalist few would dream of discounting. She built her career as a hard-nosed investigative reporter with the ability, by her own account, to intimidate colleagues and sources alike. And yet, when it comes to her dogs, she pleads guilty to being a hopeless pushover.

She is such a pushover that as she and her husband, Henry, drive to meet their new dog, he summarily demotes Ms. Abramson, “replacing me as pack leader because I am neither calm nor assertive.”

The author confesses that her husband’s assessment was “harsh but fair,” considering how horribly she had spoiled her first dog, a West Highland terrier named Buddy, cooking him gourmet meals of rosemary-dusted chicken and wild Alaskan sockeye salmon and forgiving him for all sorts of doggie infractions.

“The Puppy Diaries,” based on a popular online column Ms. Abramson wrote for The Times from July 2009 to May 2010, is her account of the first year with a beautiful but predictably high-energy golden retriever. The book is a worthy addition to the crowded so-called dogoir genre, primarily for the candid glimpse it offers into the softer, personal — yes, even cuddly — side of one of the world’s most influential opinion shapers.

It is no secret that the best dog books are not about the dog at all but rather about the powerful ways in which canines and people intersect. They explore the human condition and how dogs can enrich and elevate it.

At its core, “The Puppy Diaries” is not Scout’s story so much as the tale of an empty-nester couple seeking meaning and fulfillment in the postparenting age. Even with her high-powered career, Ms. Abramson confesses to an emptiness since the departure of her two grown children. She and Henry appear to have a strong marriage, and yet something is missing.

As the book opens Ms. Abramson is enveloped by a deep depression after two life-altering events: the death of her beloved Buddy and a near-fatal accident in which Ms. Abramson was run over by a truck while walking near Times Square, requiring months of rehabilitation.

Into this “severe case of midlife blues” arrived Scout. For Ms. Abramson, a puppy was the perfect remedy.

“Besides looking for any excuse to inhale that irresistible puppy smell, I felt a reflexive urge to cover the top of Scout’s soft head with kisses,” she writes. Ms. Abramson makes up “lullabies with silly lyrics” to coax Scout to sleep. She marvels at Scout’s “sultry, flirtatious look” and compares her to “a canine version of Veronica Lake, down to her blond, silky fur.”

Ms. Abramson is beyond smitten. No wonder she has a hard time saying no.

She and Henry pour themselves into their four-legged child with all the neurotic attentiveness of new parents. They dote, they obsess, they rearrange work schedules for puppy kindergarten. They consult trainers and run up hefty bills at Petco, even as they roll their eyes at the Manhattan pampered-pet set and the boutique businesses (doggie hospice, anyone?) that serve them.

They become devotees of the clicker training approach to behavior modification, which relies exclusively on positive reinforcement. Scout figures out pretty quickly that this means she can strain against her leash with impunity, to her owners’ dismay.

For all the couple’s angst over Scout’s transgressions, the dog is typical of her breed, eager to please and with an easy disposition. Like all puppies, she chews shoes and table legs, urinates on the bed, jumps on guests and steals food. But I can attest, as the owner of a retriever widely regarded as the world’s worst dog, that Scout’s antics are mere child’s play. Seasoned dog owners might grow impatient with the couple’s hand-wringing over such ho-hum misdeeds.

True to her reporter roots, Ms. Abramson absorbs everything she can find on dog training and interviews numerous experts (all of whom, not surprisingly, return her calls). Despite this, “The Puppy Diaries” is not a how-to book. It is amply researched and written with informed confidence, but the advice offered is strictly cursory.

Nor is it a humor book, even though rambunctious Scout provided plenty of opportunities. For example, one day on a walk through the couple’s TriBeCa neighborhood, Scout cannot resist the aromas wafting from a sidewalk cafe — and leaps onto a table and nearly into the meals of two diners, dragging Ms. Abramson along for the ride. On another occasion Scout destroys Henry’s eyeglasses on a day when he is stressed about a work deadline, leaving him prostrate on the floor, sobbing in utter defeat. All good fodder for comic relief, yet Ms. Abramson plays it straight, without a glint of humor. Part of me wished she had forgotten about her serious-journalist credentials and had a little more fun with these parts of the storytelling.

Ms. Abramson writes with intelligence and grace and never descends into the saccharine, steering clear of sappy land mines even as she celebrates the simple joys a dog can bring. Some readers will be looking for evidence to brand her elitist, but Ms. Abramson’s voice is bighearted and surprisingly down to earth as she and her husband forge a stronger bond with Scout at their side.

Dog lovers will enjoy this account of one couple’s efforts to raise a well-behaved pet. More important, “The Puppy Diaries” provides a fascinating insight into the private sensibilities of The Times’s top editor, the final arbiter of what ends up on the front page.

John Grogan is the author of “Marley & Me: Life and Love With the World’s Worst Dog” and the memoir “The Longest Trip Home.”

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