To help a friend worrying about “interviewing” pets for a community newsletter, I dug up my old guest blog for Wicked Cozy Writers on portraying a dog as a supporting character. Here’s an adaptation.
Planning Show Me the Murder, I spent weeks envisioning three old friends reunited in their hometown: Phoenix, a wounded former CIA operative; Annalynn, a do-gooder whose husband died in a sleazy motel; and Connie, a struggling singer/music teacher.
Mid book, a Belgian Malinois named Achilles popped up as a plot point—the only witness to a crime. Phoenix finds him shot, starved, and tied to a tree. She identifies with him, saying, “Some of us don’t die so easily.” They adopt each other.
Achilles posed some special challenges. One was revealing his personality and ability when he couldn’t talk and arrived with no backstory. What he couldn’t tell, he had to show. For example, when Phoenix left him alone initially, he howled until she came back. When she took him into the backyard, he protected the hummingbirds from cats skulking at the feeders. When he met Connie, he offered a paw for her to shake.
In each book, he—like the women—revealed more of himself. For example, in Show Me the Deadly Deer, he refused to get out of the car when rambunctious four-year-old twins wanted to play with him. After the children faced a tragedy, he allowed them to maul him with affection. In Show Me the Gold, he even criticized his adored Phoenix, barking a reproof when she raised her voice to Annalynn.
A persistent problem was depicting the omnipresent dog’s actions. I constantly asked myself where he was. Is he glued to Phoenix’s leg (danger close by), sniffing to read the scene (curious and careful), standing by the car to say he wants to go home (bored)? What’s more, his actions had to contribute to plot and/or character.
His nose, intelligence, and personal qualities contributed to every investigation. In Deadly Deer, he indicated that the murder didn’t take place where they found the body. In Gold, he warned Phoenix of a booby trap. She also learned to use him to disarm innocents, terrify bad guys, and back her up. He offered another unanticipated advantage: He exposed the softer side of the tough, cynical Phoenix.
Achilles became crucial to my fictional world. At every book signing, someone said, “I love your dog.” So did I, but I never got over readers praising my canine character more than my human ones.
—Carolyn Mulford