“A Dog in Georgia” is Lauren Grodstein’s sixth novel under her own name, following the breakout success of “We Must Not Think of Ourselves,” a World War II novel set in Warsaw. The current narrative is also set in Eastern Europe — it’s that Georgia — but the history that affects the plot is much more recent: 2023’s wave of large-scale protests against the government’s increasing authoritarianism.
The premise of the novel — the means for transporting us to Georgia’s capital, Tbilisi — is an original one. As the title says, there’s a dog in Georgia, a wonderful, fluffy white dog who worked as a crossing guard at an elementary school, and this dog is lost, or perhaps kidnapped. Amy Webb of New York City has been following the situation on YouTube, donating money to an organization called Justice for Angelozi (the dog’s name, which means “Angel”).
At the opening of the novel by Grodstein — whose other books include “Our Short History” — a couple of unsettling things happen to Amy: First, a pet psychic accosts her in the park and tells her that her own dog, Roxy, is secretly miserable. That night, a lovely young hostess at her husband Judd’s trendy restaurant texts him some nudes, and though he claims he’s not involved with her, Judd has cheated in the past and she isn’t sure.
So, when Irine Benia of Justice for Angelozi writes to thank her for her generous donations, Amy makes a snap decision to visit Tbilisi and help with the search. It seems as good an approach as any to dealing with her own lostness — she was briefly a model, and after that, a chef; after that, an adjunct writing prof and caretaker of her stepson. But he’s away at college, she has no classes this semester, and all this, plus Judd’s possible infidelity, is adding up to an identity crisis at age 46.
Amy is an appealing character with an interesting set of skills, knowledge, and flaws. Skills: the approach to pasta primavera she breaks out in Irine’s kitchen may well inspire readers to revisit this dish. Knowledge: dog trivia galore. For example, the discouraging fact that black animals are adopted from shelters less than half as frequently as light-colored ones. Flaws: Amy is no money manager. But it’s kind of fun to watch her throw around piles of bills.
What she finds during her two-week stay in Georgia is complicated. From Irine and her teenage daughter Maia, as well as from a Russian army deserter staying in their home, she receives a somewhat harsh education in what American life looks like from the outside.
“Your husband makes the money, am I right?” says Irina. “Or his family makes the money, you’re not even sure? And all you have to do is wake up every day and decide if you feel like eating this or that, or if you feel like walking your dog here or there. Or teaching, or not teaching. It doesn’t matter. You are taken care of. You do not have to make any hard choices.”
This is not completely wrong, but even a pampered New York dog whisperer does confront moral choices. In the course of a surprising series of events that closes the novel, Amy opens her eyes and faces them.
