Max, a dog who dreams of being a poet in Paris, must be content to remain in New York City with his friends Bruno, a painter, and Marcello, a crazy architect

The high society of Paris is scrambling to wine and dine the wealthy and talented dog poet, Max, during his visit, but when Max sees the dalmation Crepes Suzette perform at the Crazy Wolf Nightclub, all he cares about is winning her love. Reprint.

Enter Max. Dreamer. Poet. Dog. In this rollicking madcap tale, Max and his dazzling Dalmation bride take off to direct a move in Hollywood.

This book is about the meaning of life. I don't like to boast, but I have a lot of experience in the life business. I remember what King Tut said to me once, as we were strolling along the Nile on a balmy afternoon: "Mai Ra [that was my name then], one day you will creat a character who is a dog-poet named Gus [we can't always be right], and you will use him as a vehicle [and we discussed modes of transportation and I remember clearly we touched on the concept of the wheel, except we called it a veel] to explain the meaning of life. And you will get paid a bargeload of saffron and you will have a large barbecue for all your friends, no hair [?] or locusts will plague you, and you will have The New York Times delivered to your door every day." I passed through a few hundred more lives, some as a toad, some as a vase, and now here I am. (In the next life I will not have to write flap copy.) I hope you are not having a ritten day, but if you are, I have thrown in a recipe for a hot toddy so all is not lost in the sands, the mist, the misty sandy mists of time.