A Last Goodbye

Kelsey and Kim (You Are Never Alone) have previously collaborated on science-based stories about life on Earth. Here, they study animals at the ends of their lives. When companions are dying, higher mammals display behaviors that are complex and poignant: "I will tuck soft bedding behind your back," Kelsey writes, imagining a chimpanzee addressing another, "and carefully tend to your hair." After a death, killer whales assemble: "Some will travel long distances, and stay for many hours." And what happens after animals die? They become part of the earth: "Will tiny roots take hold... in the rich soil you nourish? Will new undersea communities flourish on the nutrients found in your skeleton?" In Kim's absorbing dioramas, hung from frames and photographed to create tender scenes of community, intimacy, and loss, the dying creatures are paler than their companions; they lie as if sleeping. Individual animals are painstakingly detailed, and paper trees filled with species form the illusion of hanging boughs. While the deaths portrayed by Kelsey and Kim are never violent, they are deeply sad in a way that befits their subject matter. Readers will appreciate the matter-of-fact, never emotionally prescriptive look at creatures' mourning behaviors. Ages 4-up. (Apr.)

PreS-Gr 4--A chimp that seems to be ill is comforted by another; a dolphin beginning to slow down has a companion to swim with in its final moments; and elephants apparently make long journeys to send off a member who is about to die. The narration comes from a parent-like watcher, "When it comes time to say our last goodbye, I will wrap my trunk around you and support you with my tusks," in line after line of reassurance slightly modified to reflect the animals in the scene. A monkey comes to a rest, and "I will tuck soft bedding behind your back and carefully tend to your hair." Death occurs, and the narration ponders the miracle of the soil being nourished by the decaying loved one, or the nutrients of the skeleton as a sea mammal returns to nothingness. There is sadness in the loss of an animal comrade, whether death comes to an elder or to the ailing, but Kelsey resists overt sentimentalism with a constrained tone and matter-of-fact vocabulary. It's hard to explain the mysterious draw of the watercolor illustrations, which depict an abstract version of the natural world, and which offer body shapes and clues to actual animals but are not realistic. Their poetry comes from simplicity; the author's note explains that these scenes are based on witnessed events among animals.VERDICT A lovely piece of enhanced nonfiction, this title may also help with discussions on death among humans. Thoughtful and eye-opening.--Kimberly Olson Fakih, School Library Journal