Last Dog on the Hill Quotes

“The first thing I often did with fearful dogs like Solo drew laughs from the other trainers. I’d walk into the dog’s kennel with a book, sit down, and read aloud.”
― Steve Duno, Last Dog on the Hill: The Extraordinary Life of Lou

“He couldn’t wait to run a mad dog tired, then lick his face, or doge a killing bite, then teach a foolish young dog how to look forward to things. Lou was brave and sure and he didn’t care if some tormented meathead of a dog tried to rip out his throat because he knew he was too fast, too smart, too linked in to wilder sympathies. Lou knew that sooner or later he’d find a dog’s button, discover what it needed in order to feel that it was part of something, part of the world again instead of that friendless, dogless pace where it couldn’t help but feel afraid or angry or lost.”
― Steve Duno, Last Dog on the Hill: The Extraordinary Life of Lou

“I had imagined it this way: find a caring breeder, choose the perfect, healthy pup, frame the pedigree, and live happily ever after. I hadn’t planned on making a snap decision beside the road with giant dogs and dead deer and caffeinated truckers and ganja fields and boyish rangers and sweet gypsy eyes looking up at me, wondering when we’d be going home.”
― Steve Duno, Last Dog on the Hill: The Extraordinary Life of Lou

“Following their skittish mother up into the tree line, the pups were nearly out of sight. I gave a quick whistle just to see what would happen; all but one scampered off. But the last dog on the hill stopped, gazed down at the road, then made a mad downhill dash toward us, as if recognizing someone.”
― Steve Duno, Last Dog on the Hill: The Extraordinary Life of Lou

“But sometimes unexpected things happen that can rouse an old memory, something seminal, a past event so momentous and strong that, like a rare old book, it dare not be touched too often for fear of tearing its brittle pages. Shelved and dusty, only its resonance remains, until something special comes along to yank it down from its ledge, open it to the proper page, and wrest the reader back to that exact moment in time, to the experience that, like a bolt of lightning, singed the reader’s heart forever. For”
― Steve Duno, Last Dog on the Hill: The Extraordinary Life of Lou

“The doggy demolition began slowly. Clothes, hairbrushes, dishes, pens, wristwatch, toothbrush (yes, he’d reached it somehow)—anything I came in contact with became an object to chew, maul, consume. Toys, dog chews, or rawhides were scoffed at while he was alone; it had to be something of mine. He ate two remote controls, binoculars, a cherished baseball from high school, two belts, a computer mouse and keyboard, Ray-Ban sunglasses, and too many shoes to count. Even the shifter knob and window cranks in my Civic fell victim to Lou’s teeth. Anything I handled eventually became dog food.”
― Steve Duno, The Last Dog on the Hill