Jim Krusoe’s second novel, Girl Factory, opens on what appears to be an ordinary Saturday morning: A man reads the newspaper and drinks coffee (“black, two sugars”) on his balcony. Within minutes, however, an article about a too-smart, genetically engineered dog whose “surly way and judgmental demeanor” disconcert the people around him sends the man off, crowbar in his sleeve, to free this special beast from the animal shelter. The man’s plan—like most of his life—goes terribly awry, leaving a Cub Scout dead and a killer pooch (he freed the wrong animal) on the loose. As strangely whimsical as
