In her debut novel, My Dog, Olivia Wakeford delivers a powerful story about loss, healing, and the unbreakable bond between a boy and his dog. “My Dog” follows ten-year-old Rhys as he navigates the aftermath of his mother’s death, a move to London with his estranged father, and his growing attachment to a mysterious black Labrador named Worthington. This beautifully crafted middle-grade novel balances heartache with hope, creating a reading experience that stays with you long after the final page.
Plot and Storytelling: The Journey of Rhys and Worthington
The story begins with Rhys finding a black Labrador hiding under his mother’s hospital bed. When his mother passes away and no one claims the dog after two weeks, Rhys decides Worthington belongs to him. But there’s a complication: Rhys must move to London to live with his father, who doesn’t like dogs. Determined to keep his newfound companion, Rhys smuggles Worthington to London and hides him, first in the garden shed and later in his bedroom.
Wakeford skillfully weaves together multiple narrative threads—Rhys’s grief, his strained relationship with his father, his struggle to fit into a new school, and his concern for Worthington’s mysterious ailments—creating a story with genuine emotional stakes. The plot builds toward Rhys running away back to Wales, culminating in a moment of profound realization about the nature of loss and healing.
What makes the storytelling exceptional is Wakeford’s ability to maintain an element of ambiguity. Is Worthington real or a manifestation of Rhys’s grief? The author leaves this question open enough for different interpretations while ensuring the emotional core remains authentic regardless of how readers understand Worthington’s existence.
Characters: Depth and Development
Olivia Wakeford has created remarkably three-dimensional characters in “My Dog”:
- Rhys – A sympathetic protagonist whose passion for dogs and determination are matched by his vulnerability. His journey from anger and denial to acceptance feels genuine and earned.
- Worthington – More than just a dog, Worthington serves as both a comfort to Rhys and a catalyst for his emotional growth. The characteristics that make him “weird”—his reluctance to eat from a plate, his changing limp, his aversion to fetch—add complexity to his character.
- Dad (Ben) – Initially portrayed through Rhys’s resentful perspective, Ben gradually emerges as a flawed but loving father struggling with his own grief and parenting challenges.
- Supporting Characters – From Lucy (the stepmother suffering from postpartum depression) to Kayla (the neighbor with cerebral palsy and an assistance dog) to Nan and Bampy (Rhys’s Welsh grandparents), the secondary characters all feel authentic and purposeful.
The character development is particularly impressive. Rhys’s relationship with his father evolves in a way that feels earned rather than forced, and his gradual acceptance of his new life in London rings true to the messy, non-linear nature of grief.
Themes: A Nuanced Exploration of Loss and Connection
Wakeford tackles several significant themes with sensitivity and depth:
- Grief and Memory – The novel portrays grief not as something to “get over” but as an experience to move through while keeping memories alive.
- Communication and Truth – Rhys’s journey illustrates how lying and hiding one’s feelings can create distance, while honesty fosters connection.
- Acceptance and Change – The story beautifully captures the difficulty of accepting change while finding ways to honor the past.
- Family in All Forms – From Rhys’s biological family to the friends he makes in London, the book celebrates various kinds of supportive relationships.
What elevates these themes is Wakeford’s refusal to offer simplistic solutions. Rhys doesn’t miraculously overcome his grief or instantly bond with his father. Instead, the book acknowledges that healing is a process requiring time, understanding, and sometimes professional support (as shown through Rhys’s eventual counseling sessions).
Writing Style: Clear, Emotional, and Age-Appropriate
Wakeford’s prose strikes an impressive balance—accessible enough for middle-grade readers while containing emotional depth that will resonate with adults. The first-person narration from Rhys’s perspective feels authentic, capturing the voice of a grieving ten-year-old without condescension.
Particularly strong is Wakeford’s ability to convey complex emotions through straightforward language. Consider this passage where Rhys finally visits his mother’s grave:
“I’m so sorry I didn’t go to your funeral, Mam. It wasn’t because I didn’t care; it’s because I didn’t want to say goodbye. But Dad said that just because you can’t see someone it doesn’t mean you can’t love them anyway. And I do, Mam. I love you loads. So maybe it’s never actually goodbye, not really?”
The dialogue throughout feels natural, with each character having a distinct voice. Wakeford also incorporates Welsh phrases and cultural references that add authenticity to Rhys’s background and identity.
Strengths and Minor Weaknesses
What Works Well
- Emotional Authenticity: The book never shies away from the pain of grief while still maintaining hope.
- Dog Representation: Wakeford clearly understands dogs, from Worthington’s behavior to the portrayal of Penny, the assistance dog.
- Cultural Elements: The Welsh setting and characters feel genuine rather than stereotypical.
- Balance: The heavier themes are lightened by moments of humor and warmth.
Areas for Improvement
- Pacing: The middle section in London occasionally feels repetitive, with multiple instances of Rhys hiding Worthington.
- Secondary Characters: While well-drawn, some school friends like Ahmad could have been more fully integrated into the narrative.
- Resolution: While emotionally satisfying, the ending ties up some plot threads a bit too neatly compared to the nuanced handling of emotions throughout.
- The Phone Subplot: The conflict involving Henry and the phone, while serving a purpose, sometimes distracts from the central emotional journey.
Comparison to Similar Works
“My Dog” by Olivia Wakeford shares DNA with other outstanding middle-grade novels about children, animals, and loss:
- Like Hannah Gold’s “The Last Bear,” it uses the connection between a child and animal to process complex emotions.
- It evokes Patrick Ness’s “A Monster Calls” in its ambiguous portrayal of Worthington as possibly real or symbolic.
- It shares with Katya Balen’s “October, October” a profound understanding of how children process significant life changes.
What distinguishes Wakeford’s book is its gentle approach to the question of whether Worthington is real or imaginary, allowing readers to interpret this element in ways that feel meaningful to them.
Final Verdict: A Memorable Debut Worth Reading
“My Dog” by Olivia Wakeford is a remarkable debut novel that handles difficult topics with sensitivity while remaining engaging and age-appropriate. Wakeford has created a story that will resonate with readers who have experienced loss but also appeals to anyone who appreciates authentic emotional storytelling.
The novel’s exploration of grief through the lens of a boy-dog relationship feels fresh rather than formulaic. Its greatest achievement lies in showing how healing doesn’t mean forgetting the past but finding ways to carry memories forward while embracing new beginnings.
Perfect for readers aged 9-12, “My Dog” also offers much for adults, especially those who might be reading it with children processing their own losses. Wakeford has marked herself as an author to watch, and I eagerly anticipate her future work.
Who Should Read This Book
- Children processing grief or significant life changes
- Young dog lovers and aspiring veterinarians (like Rhys!)
- Families navigating blended family dynamics
- Anyone who appreciates emotionally authentic middle-grade fiction
- Readers looking for stories that acknowledge the complexity of feelings
In “My Dog,” Olivia Wakeford has created not just an engaging story but an emotional companion for young readers navigating their own challenges. Like Worthington himself, this book offers comfort, wisdom, and a reminder that connections—even those we can no longer see—remain a vital part of who we are.
