Reviewed by Tanya Kays for Readers' Favorite

Lauren Ennis sets A Boy’s Best Comrade in 1930s Moscow during Stalin’s rule. A small puppy named Sasha starts out with Sofia and Mikhail, who adopt her during a New Year’s celebration that the government briefly permitted. But their happiness doesn’t last forever. The NKVD comes at night and takes the couple away, leaving Sasha all on her own. She deals with hunger and danger, including rats and other dogs, before eventually attaching herself to the Rostov family. This family includes Doctor Andrei, his wife, Tania, and their young son, Yuri. As Andrei reports a tuberculosis outbreak that officials refuse to admit exists, suspicion grows around them. A heartbreaking arrest shatters Yuri’s world, pushing him into cramped communal housing and later an orphanage. Through streets, metro tunnels, and constant danger, Sasha refuses to leave his side. In a city ruled by silence and informers, can a boy and his dog outrun a system determined to control them?

There are very few truly safe adults in A Boy’s Best Comrade, and Lauren Ennis does not soften the reality of the Stalinist terror, even though the story is told through Sasha's point of view. The officials are cold, neighbors are cautious, and even children are drawn into state loyalty through the Young Pioneers. Yet the novel is not only about cruelty. It is also about attachment, hunger, pride, and survival in cramped spaces such as the kommunalka kitchen or the echoing metro platforms. I was struck by how Sasha’s instincts (like protecting the people she cares about) expose the moral failures of the regime more clearly than any speech could. I also found myself thinking about Yuri’s brave endurance as a child. He is young, but he is not naïve. Ennis balances harsh history with moments of stubborn hope, allowing loyalty to stand as a simple act of resistance. It is a tough story, but one that earns its place on the shelf. Recommended.