04/23/2018
There’s quite a lot here to digest. In a mix of rhymed general statements and, in smaller type, pithy prose explanations, Kurtz drops nuggets of information about what poop is, how the excrement of a dozen types of zoo animals differs in shape and composition, what said animals do with their poop in nature, and the many ways zoos (and gardeners) study and recycle all those tons of “zoo-doo.” She closes with the provocative observation that more intelligent and socialized primates tend to fling their poop with more accuracy than their duller cohorts—as, perhaps, “a form of communication and self-expression.” Reflecting what young readers will be doing by this point, Black illustrates the author’s final sally with a troop of heartily laughing monkeys. In fact, all the creatures in these brightly colored cartoon illustrations, even the earthworms, are smiling. So are most of the notably diverse cast of human workers (a few pooper-scoopers look understandably beleaguered), as befits both the topic and the tone of this fresh scoop on poop. — John Peters
April 15, 2018 - Booklist
Any kid who’s been to a zoo knows that animal hygiene is not up to Mom’s standards. What might come as news are the very good reasons animals may have to leave their droppings where they drop, and the very good uses to which scat can be put. Rhymed verse rolls continuously along the top of spreads in oversized font, offering an introductory outline for the youngest listeners: “Sloths creep down from trees to poop, but only once a week./ A penguin shoots its poo out in a fishy-smelling streak.” A sentence or two in slightly smaller sans serif type adds nuance to the simple observations. And what about disposal? Kurtz’s explanations are largely satisfactory: some poo is trucked to landfills, some ends up in labs for study, some turns into compost (worms love to eat and re-poop the stuff), and some, like fiber-rich elephant poop, even appears later in the zoo gift shop as writing paper and greeting cards. Black’s toylike animals, with anthropomorphized grins, will hold more appeal for younger listeners, but the information will delight older, independent readers. What kid wouldn’t enjoy imagining a place where nobody tells you to flush, put down the seat, and wash your hands?
There’s quite a lot here to digest. In a mix of rhymed general statements and, in smaller type, pithy prose explanations, Kurtz drops nuggets of information about what poop is, how the excrement of a dozen types of zoo animals differs in shape and composition, what said animals do with their poop in nature, and the many ways zoos (and gardeners) study and recycle all those tons of “zoo-doo.” She closes with the provocative observation that more intelligent and socialized primates tend to fling their poop with more accuracy than their duller cohorts—as, perhaps, “a form of communication and self-expression.” Reflecting what young readers will be doing by this point, Black illustrates the author’s final sally with a troop of heartily laughing monkeys. In fact, all the creatures in these brightly colored cartoon illustrations, even the earthworms, are smiling. So are most of the notably diverse cast of human workers (a few pooper-scoopers look understandably beleaguered), as befits both the topic and the tone of this fresh scoop on poop. — John Peters
April 15, 2018 - Booklist
05/01/2018
2018-03-27
