Peterkin and the First Dog
Peterkin is an orphan boy in an alternate ancient world.
He first appeared as the hero of a long and meandering story I told my younger daughter over many months. Till then I’d not have believed that a story could come to me as fast as I could tell it. Thereafter she badgered me to write it up. She seemed to be sure it would bring me fame, unlike my other literary efforts.
When I started writing the story set off in much the same way as the original but soon took its own course. It is no longer a child’s story, and despite the mid-teen protagonist it sits uneasily in the YA category that I’ve adopted, maybe wrongly, as the least-bad one for marketing. Much of the early (and appreciative) readership has been, not to cut too fine a point, towards the other end of the age scale. But the deeper strata carry over from the original - flight, a journey with many predicaments, the play of good and evil, the bond between two orphans. It’s for anyone, perhaps, from a sophisticated 12-year-old onwards.
Peterkin has grown up in a high and remote valley. In the wider world history is beginning: an empire has consolidated, a script is in use. As with the Aztecs and Incas there are no rideable beasts. But in his world - unlike ours since the early stone age - there are no dogs either.
He befriends a wolf. The two have to flee the valley, into a new and alien world. Here they struggle through many adventures, their fortunes tied in with a cast of remarkable characters: the Holy Crone Sujata, Kuzak the Errant (a kind of wandering warrior-monk), the devious Baron Tark, his sharp-eyed helpmeet Asli and his three specimen minders, the paranoid King Karaman, the demonic bandit Golo.
In the end they find safety and welcome. Only then does the point of the title come into view - the word ‘dog’ doesn’t appear in the main text, the wolf is never more nor less than a wolf.
My thanks to my artist sister Jane King-Spooner for illustrating the book, including the cover design and the chapter-opening capitals. My favourite of her many wolves is on the left; the samples below are paired with the relevant texts.
(I removed an eBook option after I discovered that the Print Replica format it was published in won’t play on Kindle, and maybe some other devices - my apologies to anyone who bought it.)
Some Passages:
Peterkin walked out one morning in spring, swung back the door of his hut on its leather hinges and walked into the day.
It was late – soon the rim of the sun would keek at the skyline, chasing off the last cool grey of dawn. He’d meant to be out at first light to chase the crows from his barley field, but he’d stayed up with a suffering ewe till the lamb at last slid from her and was up on its legs and feeding.
He hurried, carrying his sling. They took off as soon as they saw him, fanning out under the skyline to not make a target, kraaking as if in mockery. He slung a stone from his pouch but it fell way short.
Peterkin had lived all his life with beasts – sheep, a few goats, a milk cow for a while. He followed his mother’s way with them, patient, careful, cajoling. The lambing, the milking, out on the hill. When they found a lost lamb with its eyes gone she wished no ill on the raven, smiling drily and shaking her head as she ended its little ruined life. She even did that gently, a careful quick dip of her knife between the neck bones – the lamb’s life-force magicked away, legs instantly unstrung.
Peterkin gave the low whistle of a dusk owl and as he did tossed out a piece of meat. The wolf jerked back in shock, crouched low, ears down. Peterkin kept very still. It crept up on the morsel and snatched it and backed off and gulped the morsel down. … A real dusk owl came and perched in a low tree and called back, bemused and indignant, its little tuft-eared silhouette against the twilit sky.
When he’d done he … closed the door decisively and barred it, then quietly went to the window. He’d left the shutter open a crack. The wolf had taken the final piece of meat and was staring at the hut, in hope or in puzzlement. Then it turned and trotted away.
The little dusk owl had flown down and was calling from a fence post, insisting that its rival come out and fight.
Irminbruga had the idea of seeing him face to face, just the two of them. Taking him by surprise, like a bearer of sudden news. Taking him off balance. The force of her big, quick-minded personality; the demands of senior-relative respect.
Of the age and condition she was, mother of ten and not much given to walking, she set herself off on the uphill track one evening. She worked her way up slowly, breathing heavily, favoured by a near-full moon and a brisk and cooling downhill wind. She gave thought to her purpose as she walked.
A steep section faced her, leading up to a moon-backed skyline, as if she looked up at the crest of a hill. She stopped for a while to get her breath, staring up, preparing herself for the ordeal.
Then she saw Peterkin, head and shoulders in silhouette above the skyline, seeming to toss something. A faint low whistle came down the wind to her. Then she saw the wolf.
He’s passing the moonlit side of her cottage, using the bean-rows for cover – the beans already shoulder height, he creeps in a low crouch – when Widow Colwen speaks from her porch. Barely above conversational pitch, but it might be the loudest sound he’s ever heard.
Ho, creeping youth ...
She catches him at the point of sprinting ...
Run and I’ll scream blue bloody murder. You hear me, sneaking boy? Come here. Come here.
Peterkin, at a loss, steps closer. She’s sitting half hidden in her porch, bundled up in many clothes, watching the moon and the night, a cup of mead on a ledge of the porch beside her.
She gestures him to turn so the moon shows his face.
His wolf comes entirely into sight, buckled with fear and ingratiation: crouched prawn-like, the rear right down with the tail curled under the belly, ears flat and back-hair crested.
They lived will enough on hare; grouse; a goose. They camped at a shelter stone a mile above and aslant to the cottage of the curling smoke, and Peterkin found a viewpoint and watched for half a day at a time the old woman’s goings and doings. Sometimes she made strange gestures or quavered gobbledygook chants, each night by means of her staff and a helpful boulder she creaked down to her knees and kowtowed to the setting sun as it fell across the plain.
The boy. The boy at his task, bizarre and beautiful cameo framed by the long-leaved willow, his skinny nakedness, his self-enclosed diligence, work she’s never before seen done by a male.
Not sexual, or not to speak of. but a terrible tenderness, for the skinny bare orphan out of nowhere. Not a truant from one of the higher hells, with his wolf-familiar; not a godling come to test her. Just a boy lost and alone, arrived at her porchstone with his stuttering courtesy, washing his stinking clothes.
Suddenly a swordsman is crying the name and titles of Tark, the Baron Tark, and stands to the side as a large perspiring man appears where the streamside path meets the clearing. Improbably large he seems, with slabby chops clean-plucked and the chest of an ox, a great sleek belly below, smug in its fine-woven travel smock. He carries a staff of blackwood carved to a twisting design and topped with a silver boss. He’s stopped till his wife the Third Baroness comes up, and to get his breath back: a square-on stance, feet sprawled, unhurriedly eyeing the company. Each morsel of his presence tells of immense self-importance: the pose, the lovingly chosen attire, the insolent unhurried stare, the way he already imposes his physical mass.
Wolves, she cries, your wolf brings many. As if on cue the eerie rope of a pack howl climbs upwards, goats as if flung come stuttering round the clearing-edge or swerving through the company.
The big man with the sword is well apprenticed for his place in life. Ruslan of Tannak, unwanted eighth child of inebriates now long dead; a half-renegade gang of brothers, cousins, comrades now also far past. Courageous, with a sour pride, naturally cruel, he indentured five years to a troop of Empire occasionals, then sought the eye of the Megharan nobility.
‘Mine is wolf’ - he heard the boy say it. He thinks he’ll follow him.
Then the wolf bolts.
He runs through parkland, zig-zagging for cover, keeping the line of the boundary wall but not thinking to jump it. Somewhere behind the Captain is bawling to hold back the rag-tag force which has lurched in pursuit, shouting incoherently, axes and pitchforks readied.
Peterkin’s quicker of foot. He drops bow and quiver and gear but might be standing still against the speed of the wolf, who vanishes over a rise - moments later come the screams of maids, weeding with hoes as he hurtles through the kitchen garden, then rounds the big house and heads downhill for the river.
Asli watches with her mouth wide open as the barque slides faster and faster towards the funnelling mouth of the cataract. Past the boom now, utterly doomed. A small scream escapes her and her hands grip her face. Sliding out of vision, gone. Suddenly and completely gone, wiped from sight as if it had never been.
When Peterkin unlatches the gate and goes in with the wolf the wolf hauls so hard on the leash he has to sit down and dig in his heels to hold him, the thong tourniquetting his hands. He eases out the leash an inch at a time and the cubs fawn at the wolf’s feet and the wolf starts to ease his domineeringness and give the first hints of play. When he’s sure enough, Peterkin stands and works his way along the leash and the cubs dart into their hutch and the boy muitters a prayer and slips off the loop, and his wolf is free and peering into the hutch, and as Peterkin retreats to the side of the pen and sits himself down the cubs keek out and sidle out and there they all are skipping and feinting in play and in sport.
Reviews …
BarbaraL 5 stars on Amazon and Goodreads
A tour de force in literary fantasy
This is the story of a boy who befriends a wolf and has a series of adventures as he tries to find sanctuary for them both in a mysterious country peopled by pilgrims, brigands, kings and barons, all of whom are fully rounded characters with their own stories to tell. The adventure sweeps from the upper reaches of a great river to a city by the sea, a river whose navigable stretches are broken by ship-destroying rapids, a powerful metaphor for the art of story telling itself.
This is a novel to linger over, for hardly a sentence goes by without an arresting image, or a thought-provoking use of language, which turns this sweeping literary fantasy into a real tour de force, a story that lingers in the memory long after the first reading. Highly recommended.
RachelT 5 stars on Amazon
Enjoyed this very much!
AnnieP 5 stars on Amazon
An exciting escape. An adventure through a mysterious world with lovely illustrations to aid the journey!
Lindsay Duncan 5 stars on Amazon
Page Turner
My partner and I rarely read the same book however she recommended this one to me and we both enjoyed it immensely. We hope there will be a sequel.
Evelyn Facebook ‘Peterkin’ page, no rating given
A gripping tale, vividly painted, ancient and yet modern. I could smell the pine resin and the cool morning air. Simon's writing complemented by Jane King-Spooner's mysterious illustrations that seem to be emerging from the mists of time.
The Story Eater blog (https://www.eaterofstories.com/book-reviews-1) 4.5 stars on blog, rounded up to 5 on Goodreads
King-Spooner’s tale of an ancient young farmer and his gift for taming wild animals is by far one of the most unique books I’ve read this year (perhaps because it is an indie and does not follow conventional publishing norms, hmmm?). King-Spooner’s prose was absolutely mesmerizing and the story provided a grand adventure that had my heart in my throat the whole way through. Though the book is a bit rough around the edges and needs some editing, I highly recommend it for those who like to read stories of adventure written with younger folks in mind, provided they don’t mind a bit of language.
Peterkin is a young orphan of about 15 whose mother has recently died when the story opens, which leaves him by himself to tend the small family farm he inherits. While he is dutiful and takes wonderful care of his property, he must deal with pressures from some in his community to cede his land to a near relative and take care of an injured wolf that he is unwilling to kill. All of these outside forces converge on him at once, forcing him to flee his farm and take the wolf with him. While Peterkin’s mother raised him diligently to be self-reliant and responsible, as is important with all humans, he still needs other people and community to thrive. The trouble is that not all people who offer help are good, and those who seem to be stingy are not necessarily bad.
I haven’t read a book with prose quite like this for a while. Many things are inferred, and the reader must stay engaged in the story to understand what is happening. I find this aspect of the book one of its best qualities, as many books written for contemporary young people offer easy-to-read plots and dialogue with a lot of action to entertain—which doesn’t leave much of their thinking provoked or even adequately stimulated. In Peterkin and the First Dog, Peterkin’s story offers a dichotomy of human nature for readers to examine; on one hand, we have humble Peterkin trying to protect life and offer his labor in exchange for help; and on the other, we get to experience the thought process of powerful people who have the resources to help those in need but seek only to exploit the downtrodden.
All things meta in the narrative aside, King-Spooner also offers readers a fantastic variety of characters. What we see hinted at in the synopsis is but a mere sampling of all the wonderful people fleshed out in the story. Peterkin was so endearing, with his loving nature and humble, grateful spirit. Every character who interacts with him changes somehow, whether for the better or worse, the reader may judge.
Peterkin and the First Dog is available to read right now, and I highly recommend it for upper-YA and adult readers who long to read an adventure tale with no romance and a slight historical, speculative aspect. It also comes with beautiful, experience-enhancing illustrations in the print book.
And from the blogsite ‘2023 bests’:
King-Spooner’s book came out of left field at me. I did not expect to love it as much as I did. I found it to be absolutely stellar and encourage anyone with young readers who need something that’s age appropriate but still challenging to pick this one up. Top shelf for Peterkin.
Jackie 4 stars on Goodreads
This was a very entertaining page turner, particularly for lovers of this genre.
The rich character, setting and situation descriptions made me feel I'd entered this strange other World, and found myself rooting for Peterkin (and the wolf) to reach some kind of happy ending.
Nicola Murray 4 stars on Amazon
Readable Romp with ‘Peterkin and the First Dog’
Great kernel of an idea - a young boy befriends a wolf and over time it becomes his loyal companion, set in a time and place when wolves are universally feared. The time and place exist in the realms of fantasy and, for me, had shades of Tolkien territory. Descriptions of the topography, flora and fauna are satisfyingly clear and ring true, the characterisation is convincing with a peppering of wry humour. I did think it could probably do with a ruthless edit in places but overall a worthwhile read. Buy it!
Sherry L. Ross 5 stars on Amazon and Goodreads
Beautiful, tense, unique adventure of survival in ancient time
King-Spooner’s writing is elegant and filled with quiet tension. It is a tension that mounts and becomes more successful at creating surprise, intrigue and shock because of that restraint. His beautiful descriptions of nature and landscape, survival strategies and the complexities of human failings and foibles, make this survival tale astute and meaningful and delightful to read.
Peterkin, the protagonist, is a young boy who loses everything. In this tale which is set in ancient times, life is hard enough without also being left an orphan. His father is already gone at the start. But before she passes, his mother has taught him well. Peterkin first begins to makes friends with a wolf before she dies. This unusual relationship, especially in a community of sheepherders, only deepens after her death and leads to his being banished by his extended family and community, and all his property taken from him.
Heading off into the wilderness, with the wolf as his company, survival will only get harder and more complex for Peterkin. King Spooner gets inside the mind of young Peterkin and also inside the wolf’s mind. He truly seems to understand the wolf’s motivations. We see how the wolf is becoming a first dog.
Along the way many characters come into to the story; lively, likable, untrustworthy and despicable. The author can capture the internal workings of a character’s modus operandi with a quick turn of phrase. Soon Kurzak enters stage with his own tale of woe and loneliness. He plays an important role in Peterkin’s story. Sujata is prophetic, and in the author’s own words “a saint and a pragmatist.” She is a holy woman. Asli will surprise and delight you.
Baron Tark is the wealthy, over indulged aristocrat on the run from his king. He is Machiavellian and deceptive. It would seem he has all he needs but, “still squirms with boredom… his life might be fine for someone he hasn’t become yet, for someone he might be in maybe 10 years.” His ambitions set the darkness into motion. And the psychopathic criminal, Golo, adds the real threat violence to the mounting suspense. The journey down the river will thrill you and ends in an unforgettable climax.
This story, built with care and beautiful language, will take you on a unique and wonderful human adventure. I know it will stay with me.
Ingrid Mair 5 stars on Amazon
It’s about a young boy becoming a man along with a wolf he has befriended
I thought the language was great and evocative of an early medieval time. So much interesting detail and it was gripping right to the unexpected ending. I loved this book.
A.M. 5 stars on Amazon
This book would make a great gift to others or to your self
This book would make a great gift for anyone who enjoys fantasy, adventure, and suspense. It’s a real page turner with dynamic characters and their interactions, as they journey with a wild wolf who is befriended and befriends a boy called Peterkin, the story’s protagonist. Both he and the wolf are beset with opponents and cunning deception, as they journey to find a place to settle.
I would say that this book could be enjoyed by those from their mid-teens, onwards: definitely adults.
This is the first book I have read by this author and I am sure that it won’t be my last.
So if you are looking for an interesting gift for Christmas, birthdays etc this is a great choice. Let the adventures begin!
Chris James, author of The O.D. and Sibelsnaat 5 stars on Amazon
Call of the Wild meets Game of Thrones
When I first read the title of this book, I thought it was aimed at older children or young adults, but it didn’t take me long to realise that this book is on another plane altogether. It is unique in my experience -- unique in writing style, and unique in concept. A question that probably arises in most people’s minds at some stage of life is, ‘Where do dogs come from’? There haven’t always been dogs. They must have crossed the divide between wildness and domesticity at some point in time. But when, and where?
Simon King-Spooner weaves an intricate and perfectly plausible answer in this clever novel. His first job is to take us back in time, not through mere description, but also in the style of writing. English as perhaps written in another century. And that’s not to say the action takes place in Britain. When a certain musical instrument was mentioned in the text, I did some sleuthing and figured out the time span of the instrument and the vast geographical area in which it had been commonly played. It’s not actually necessary to know these things though to appreciate the story.
One paragraph early on prompted me to bookmark it, as it gives a great insight into the mind of the nameless wolf of the book:
‘The wolf has in all its senses a fine intelligence of danger. Danger pushes it, and hunger pulls it – mostly the wolf is found precisely where the balanced forces place it. Danger and hunger fight for the soul of a wolf – danger in stranger wolves, in greater beasts, but above all in man. Man the other, man the eternal enemy, whose smell and presence are the bone of fear.’
That’s one of the easier segments to understand. This book is by no means an easy read as we get deeper into the story and meet new characters. But that makes it more stimulating and ‘other worldy’. The author obviously knows his material, down to what these people ate and drank, their belief systems, superstitions, fears and the hierarchical system that bound them.
So, take a journey back to who knows where and meet the first dog, sensitively illustrated by Jane King-Spooner. Highly recommended.
Mrs Middleton 5 stars on Amazon
A Great Read! Gripping and Exciting
I really enjoyed Peterkin and the First Dog. Simon has created a mythical world which is completely believable. He gives his characters a past and a history and they live in a society which has its own traditions and customs and is totally convincing. In fact Peterkin’s world seemed so realistic and was so well drawn that I really felt I could have walked into it and experienced what I was reading on the page. Simon obviously knows a great deal about the natural world and he writes very descriptively about it and with great authenticity. His writing about the wolf itself is particularly impressive. I really hope that the book is picked up by a major publisher so that it can be read and enjoyed as widely as it deserves to be. Good luck Simon
Rosie 5 stars on Amazon
Beautifully written
I couldn’t put this book down. The storyline is incredible and the illustrations are perfect.
CathyKS 5 stars on Amazon
A beautifully written tale for all ages
Peterkin and the First Dog was a departure from my usual reading genre, and transported me back to childhood when the pace of life moved more slowly and I would lose myself in tales of myths and legends. This story is beautifully written with poetic language which gently prompts the reader to reflect, and become a close observer of each character’s thoughts, motivations and behaviours. There is an ever-present appreciation of the natural world and its rhythms, and how each element - living and non-living - has its place. This is a richly-layered tale for readers of any age, with common themes to explore and discuss as each character makes their own choices towards their destiny.