Doggo belongs to Clara and Dan, having been rescued from Battersea Dogs’ Home. When Clara leaves without warning, she leaves Doggo behind, forcing Dan to persuade his new employers that a virtually hairless, scruffy mutt would make a valuable contribution to the office environment. Somewhat reluctantly, the boss agrees, leaving Dan and Doggo to negotiate their new working life together, in a trendy ad agency.
Although a dog owner (I have a cocker spaniel named after my favourite author), books which feature humanised animals are not a big hit with me, so I was relieved to discover that the pooch in this book can’t actually talk. However, the more I read, the more I realised that the book would have been greatly enhanced if Doggo could give his view on Dan’s life. Especially when his colleague tries to frame him by bringing a frozen turd to the office in a Tupperware box, then transferring it to a carefully chosen spot and trying to blame the deposit on the dog. If I were a dog, I’d certainly have something to say about that.
It is embarrassing to admit how long it took me to realise that the title of this book is a play on the words of Samuel Becket’s ‘Waiting for Godot‘. I mean, it was at least half way through. I think the pun is the only reference to the classic work though. Maybe ‘Waiting for Doggo’ has delusions of black comedy, but frankly I didn’t find it that clever.
Thank you to Net Galley for my copy of this book.
