Break­ing up with boyfriend Bri­an leads 30- some­thing Rena to exam­ine her life. And did I men­tion, to steal his new girlfriend’s dog? In order to extri­cate her­self from the past, and to return the dog to its own­er, she relies on help from friends and fam­i­ly. These include divorced par­ents who dine togeth­er week­ly, for­mer drug-deal­ing sis­ter turned reli­gious, well-ground­ed friend Lisa, and pla­ton­ic new flame, Chaim (Chuck). Through the char­ac­ters, Guter­son explores when rela­tion­ships begin, how they end, and which ones endure. ​“Odd souls need each oth­er, whether they want each oth­er or not,” Rena muses. 

Exam­in­ing rela­tion­ships in this book extends to self-regard. Hav­ing giv­en up on becom­ing a speech­writer, Rena admits, ​“I’m a wait­ress in a steak­house with no future career prospects. I have a pushy moth­er. I have one failed rela­tion­ship under my belt. I have no con­fi­dence in myself. I’m a crim­i­nal. You do the math.” Yet through­out Gone to the Dogs, she becomes the hero­ine of her nar­ra­tive. Brid­get Jones Cross­ing Delancey best describes Rena. Fam­i­ly inter­ac­tions also humor­ous­ly expose the mores of mod­ern Jew­ish life. Read­ers who have been there, if you know what I mean, will smile while rec­og­niz­ing them­selves in the novel.