The Jewish Dog (5 page)

There was one café
,
Tsuzamen
,
which Kalman would visit from time to time
.
It was a small neighborhood place that served inexpensive coffee and simple pastries
.
Because the menu only included dairy products
,
Kalman allowed himself to have a cup of coffee there as he perused the morning papers
.
When he went
,
he would tie me up outside
.
At first
,
I didn't make much of it
.
On the contrary
,
I was too impressed by his seasoned bartering skills
.
I watched him through the glass door
,
handing the owner mere pieces of paper and in return being served coffee and a pastry by the fool
.
However
,
as time passed
,
being tied up became nothing less than an insult
.
Kalman sat there enjoying his morning coffee while I sat outside
,
tied to a pole
.
Even a creature with as few demands as I couldn't pretend that there was nothing wrong with the picture
.
I named my post “the pillory.” I think Kalman was aware of my distress
.
Every time he tied me up
,
he would crouch to my level
,
pet my forehead
,
and whisper
,
“don't worry little friend
,
I won't be long.”

The price of abandonment outside the café was well worth the prize of weekends
.
Every week
,
I was reminded of the great advantage of belonging to a Jewish pack
.
Though during the week my food dish usually contained simple leftovers
,
Friday night brought with it remnants of juicy chicken
,
strips of beef fat
,
and fish brine that surpassed the very nectar of the gods
.
This was the gravy in which the
gefilte
fis
h
swam
.
If only you could see me wolfing down that wonderful sauce
.
I consumed the entire dish before you could say “woof.”

The fact that I could regularly enjoy such fancy meals added a weekly dimension to my sense of time
.
The daily dimension was clear and natural
;
it was directly related to sunrises and sunsets
,
light and dark
,
hot and cold
,
and shadows getting longer and shorter
.
The monthly cycle had its own physical aspect
,
tied to the magical power of the moon
.
The weekly cycle
,
however
,
was harder to figure out
.
Its only indicator was the Shabbos meal
.
Shabbos meals were very carefully planned events
.
The Gottliebs would wear their best clothes and stand together around the table
.
Kalman would lift a glass and sing in his clear voice
,
“For You have chosen us and sanctified us
,
of all nations.” My mother and I were the only ones in the room allowed to stay seated as he sang
.
Before the meal began
,
the family would rise to wash their hands
,
and would not speak until they broke bread
.
When I dared to bark between washing and eating
,
the entire family would look at me with reprimanding looks and silently shush me
.
It was a family joke that would make everyone smile anew.

During dinnertime
,
while my mother and I were gobbling down our food
,
the Gottliebs would supplement their meal with songs and
divrei torah
– short explanations of the weekly Torah portion.

When the meal ended
,
Shoshana would place strawberries
,
apples
,
and pastries on the living room table
.
Herschel and Joshua would drape a sheet over two chairs and sit together under the makeshift tent
.
They would employ me as their watchdog
,
guarding the tent opening
.
Sometimes Reizel
,
Herschel
,
and Joshua would pretend to be puppies
.
They would join me and my mother on the ground and traverse the carpet on all fours, presenting their heads to Shoshana and Kalman for petting.

There was one trick that Reizel especially liked
.
She would place a mirror in front of my face and watch my perplexed expression
.
Who was that Caleb imitating my every movement
,
watching me with the same puzzled face? The mirrored Caleb had his own Reizel watching him with a satisfied look on her face
.
The first time Reizel performed the mirror trick
,
I was struck by confusion
.
As time went by
,
I realized that the other Caleb was no more than a copycat lacking any initiative
,
and I lost interest.

CHAPTER 6

T
he crisis came on suddenly.

That day was filled with the hustle-bustle of family activity
.
There was an air of celebration
.
The living room table was covered with colorfully wrapped gifts
,
as well as cakes and other delicacies that I was strictly forbidden to touch
.
Reizel unwrapped a large present
,
and inside she found a doll wearing a long
,
frilly dress
.
“Father
,
this is from you
,
right?” Kalman hugged her tightly and said
,
“My favorite author
,
Agatha Christie
,
was also born on September 15th.”

“I've read Agatha Christie,” Joshua said
.
Herschel threw him a nasty look that meant “Shut up
,
you're such a brown noser.” Later
,
Joshua and Herschel sang “Happy Birthday” to their little sister
,
and Shoshana cut the pear cake
.
The sense of idyll ended when Kalman turned on the radio.

“It's that Hitler again
.
You can't switch on the radio without hearing him.” Then he added under his breath
,
“
Der hund bellt
!
The dog is barking again!”

Shoshana frowned and said sadly
,
“Haman was a
Lamed Vovni
k
1
compared to this guy.”

I could smell that Kalman's soul was in a rage
.
I saw that he was getting restless
,
and when he was restless
,
he would take me on walks
.
The knowledge that I would soon go on a walk had me on my toes
.
Kalman sat for several more minutes with his family before he said
,
“I can see that Caleb is impatient
.
I think I should take him out for a little while.”

As we passed the park
,
I saw my friend waiting for me
,
tail wagging
.
Kalman let me off my leash and I ran off to play with Karl Gustav
.
We ran together on the wide grassy hill and played our endless game of tag
.
We were soon joined by our friends Bomba
,
Zuga
,
and Schwart
,
and our quiet game quickly became a jumble of barking and play-pouncing
.
I could see Karl Gustav's owner sitting next to Kalman
.
He leaned over and whispered something into Kalman's ear
.
Then he pointed to a nearby signpost
.
Kalman's face clouded over and his mood darkened
.
I felt as though a black cat had passed between Kalman and his German neighbor
.
Just then
,
a black cat passed between me and Karl Gustav too
,
but to our great joy
,
this one was not a metaphorical black cat
.
With newfound exuberance
,
Karl Gustav began chasing it fervently
,
and our playmates joined him in a carefully coordinated hunt
.
I joined the adventure as well
.
The cat hastily ran and hid in the tall branches of a nearby cherry tree.

By way of habit
,
I glanced briefly at the bench to make sure that Kalman was still around
.
Rule of thumb
:
always make sure that your owner is within sniffing range
.
I saw Kalman reading the sign with a worried look on his face
.
But the mere sight of him reassured me
,
and I could dedicate my full attention to the more interesting hunting game.

The cat climbed high up in the tree
,
and seeing as he was out of reach
,
I preferred to let him be and go on with our game of tag
.
But Karl Gustav wouldn't give up
.
He dashed at the tree again and again
.
Bomba
,
Zuga
,
and Schwart encouraged him with urging barks
.
The poor kitten looked at Karl Gustav's sharp incisors
.
I could see the fear of death in his small
,
watery eyes
.
The stench of panic emanated from his small body
.
The pungent scent only heightened Karl Gustav's aggression and the volume of his companions' barking
.
Karl Gustav thrust his entire weight at the tree trunk
,
and the branch of safety shook beneath the cat's paws
.
My heart shook as well
.
I knew this wasn't a game
.
Karl Gustav was out for blood
.
He shot his entire body at the tree over and over
,
filled with boundless frustration
.
His paw scratched and his eyes took on a red hue of madness
.
It was clear that his rage would not be appeased until the poor kitten was killed.

Several young boys playing nearby got wind of the events
,
and decided
,
out of the goodness of their hearts
,
to lend a hand
.
They picked up stones and began hurling them at the cat
.
A direct hit threw the kitten off balance
.
He clawed the branch in a hopeless attempt to stabilize himself
,
but he quickly lost his grip and fell
.
Karl Gustav caught him straight from the air
,
and shook him fiercely.

A moment later
,
Karl Gustav threw the carcass away and Zuga swiftly snatched it up
.
He began running around proudly
,
as though he was the one who had made the kill
.
Bomba and Schwart ran after him
,
trying to steal his booty
.
After some time
,
Zuga lost interest in the cat and let it drop from his mouth
.
The game was over and the dogs moved on to look for fresh amusement
.
The boys cheered and praised the hunt and the excellent hunter
.
Bomba
,
Zuga
,
and Schwart also received pats and praise
.
I glanced at the young kitten lying dead with open eyes
,
and distanced myself from the revelry
.
I knew that this time it was different
.
This time it wasn't just a mischievous urination on the kitchen floor or forbidden climbing on the sofas
.
This time I had done something really evil
.
I couldn't bear to look at the dead kitten
.
His accusing eyes made me feel deeply ashamed.

My soul sank.

Kalman and Karl Gustav's owner came and hooked us back onto our leashes
.
Kalman led me back home at a quickened pace
.
I wondered why Kalman had cut our time at the park short
.
Was it because he disapproved of the cat hunt? He didn't scold me or smack my snout
.
He must have been upset at something else
.
He didn't even let me linger for a moment of sniffing when Heidi and Brigitte walked by
.
I gave him a scathing look
.
Vi got iz dir lib
?
2
Just a brief moment of invasive sniffing and we'll be on our way
!
But Kalman pulled on the leash with some force and dragged me home
.
He was troubled and
,
to be frank
,
he carried the same scent that had just recently caused such calamity
.
Fear.

I would often hear the Gottliebs puzzle at my ability to recognize their moods and act accordingly – to rejoice with them in their happiness
,
to leave them be when they were busy
,
and to lie by their sides when they were sad
.
What can I say? It was an impossible feat for my feeble-nosed friends
,
but to me it was second nature
.
The scent they gave off would always reveal their temperament
.
People know how to fool one another and pretend they feel one way
,
when in fact they feel another
.
We dogs always know what's happening inside the human soul.

My ability to read their moods made me into a friend who would listen in times of need.

“They never buy me anything,” Herschel told me
.
“They're so annoying
!
They buy Joshua every book he wants
,
and what am I asking for? Just a pair of soccer cleats!”

“You know,” Shoshana told me
,
as she petted the head I rested on her knees to show solidarity
,
“I'd never say this to Kalman
,
but I'm a little glad he got fired
.
His colleagues there flirt day and night with their young secretaries.” Though I admit I didn't understand every word she said
,
she exuded such a clear scent of fear of abandonment that I had no choice but to join in with a sympathy bark
.
Who could understand how she felt as well as I?

Kalman never needed me to share his innermost secrets
.
He had a close friend named Baruch Zonenfeld with whom he'd speak for hours.

“I am ashamed
,
filled with guilt,” Kalman once told Baruch Zonenfeld over the phone
.
“I try to reassure Shoshana and the children
.
I tell them over and over that they must rid their hearts of concern – that this is all temporary and everything will be all right. . . 
.
But what if it won't be all right? My children think I can protect them
.
They'll find out someday that I can shield them no better than a house of cards.”

The telephone always gave me an uncomfortable feeling of dissonance
.
Baruch's coat smelled strongly of his dog
,
Kugel
,
so I knew that he was on his way over from the moment he turned onto our street
.
But how could I hear Baruch's voice so clearly as he spoke with Kalman on the phone
,
without being able to smell him at all?

Joshua also asked his father about the puzzling contraption
.
“Father
,
how does the telephone work? How is it possible that the voice of someone so far away can sound so close?”

Kalman's scientific answer didn't help Joshua understand
,
and he complained that the contraption still seemed mystical and enigmatic
.
The breakthrough in Joshua's ability to comprehend the secrets of the telephone came after he accidentally stepped on my tail.

“Ah!” Kalman said to his son with a twinkle in his eye
.
“A wonderful illustration
!
See how stepping on the edge of Caleb's tail evoked a series of loud barks on his other side? An action on one side generates noise at the other end of the line.”

The scent of fear around the house increased over the next few days
.
The smell stuck to Kalman
,
Shoshana
,
and the children
,
and became almost too much to bear
.
This scent of fear put me in a vigilant state and was accompanied by a burning sensation in my nostrils
.
I thought I was going mad
.
I felt I had to stand guard
:
from the moment the Gottliebs would step out of their front door
,
they'd feel threatened – easy prey for any predator.