This book by Barbara Gowdy, a Canadian author, is one of my favourites this year. I have never read a book that was written in the narrative of an animal, with the exception of Charlotte's Web. (Although this may be inaccurate - I can't remember who narrated Charlotte's Web) I have always loved elephants and this story was mesmerizing; they act and feel as though I personally imagined them. It is so convincingly well written that it's entirely possible that perhaps Barbara herself is/was an elephant. It was just a sad and startling reality; I fell in love with Mud.
The only thing I didn't care for, like every dreamer was how it ended. And not because I think it left you hanging or was poorly ended, but because it didn't turn out they way I had anticipated.