It is like the puppy described later in the work: tough and nippy in parts, lively and new in others.
“Love for the animal rushes through Juliet for its newness, its capacity for destruction. She bends to the puppy’s snarl and snap. She gathers its surprising and lively weight into her arms, against her chest: fur tough, claws smooth, rolls of fat around its ribs. It nips her ear, and a tooth catches on the tiny silver ring Juliet wears in the lobe, and the wince of pain gleams.”
Give it a good home and read it now, so you can say that you have a copy without the awards stickers, because you knew it was inevitable.
It will most definitely be on my list of Favourite Reads for 2012. (I have a lot, lot, lot more to say about this novel, here on Buried In Print. Please check it out.)