"Fighting Dogs Don’t Dance" is a brutal—and sometimes very funny—parable in the best traditions of Guy Ritchie’s films: about a world where loyalty is an animal instinct. Former fighting dog Arap leads a steady life—guarding the owner’s barn and spending his free hours sipping anise leftovers from the local distillery. One day, two of Arap’s friends—Theodore, a Rhodesian ridgeback, and the aristocratic show greyhound “Handsome Boris”—disappear without a trace. Sensing something is wrong, Arap goes looking for them. He’ll be forced to sneak into the place where he once earned fame as an excellent killer—where he hoped he would never return again: into the pit of the Dreaded Butchers (the “vivisectionists’ yard”). But getting in is only half the battle—you have to manage to carry your paws out. Arturo Pérez-Reverte never repeats himself—each of his books is unlike the previous one. But here he surpassed even himself and fulfilled the best hopes of loyal readers. “Fighting Dogs Don’t Dance” is a brutal—and sometimes very funny—parable in the best traditions of Guy Ritchie’s films: about a world where loyalty is an animal instinct.