The Jewish Dog (9 page)

CHAPTER 12

O
ver the next few days
,
I was more irritable than usual.

“I think he misses his mother,” Shoshana said.

“Yes,” Kalman agreed
.
“He must understand that he's next in line.”

Herschel smothered me with love
,
but it was mixed with anxiety over our looming separation
.
One morning
,
a Friday judging by the scents coming from Shoshana's kitchen
,
Herschel dragged me to the washroom and scrubbed me thoroughly with a rag soaked in scented soap
.
Reizel dried me off and combed my fur
.
I didn't enjoy being washed and groomed
,
but it was clear to me that I should try not to shake the water out
,
as it would interrupt their work and simply prolong the torture
.
When the children completed their masterpiece
,
their parents handed them their due pay and sent them off to the store.

“Buy some sweets and chocolate
.
Buy whatever you want.”

The children didn't need any more encouragement than that
,
and their hurried steps soon faded down the busy street
.
Just a moment after their footfalls had subsided
,
a wary knock was heard at the door.

“Ah
,
right on time
.
Come on in,” Kalman greeted the new arrival
.
“Tell me
,
what's new at the newspaper?”

The guest was Frank Heinz
.
Back in the day
,
when Kalman would leave the house early in the morning and not return until evening
,
Frank would often visit our home
.
Ever since Kalman began spending his days at home
,
Frank had stopped gracing us with his presence
.
I liked him a lot
;
he would always dedicate a moment of his time to me
,
petting me vigorously
,
and treating me to a delicacy the likes of which I never saw in Shoshana's kitchen
:
a pink-brown tail
,
curly with a chewy and wonderful texture and a heavenly flavor.

“So here's the little bandit,” Frank said to me
,
petting the top of my head.

I lay on my side
,
lifting my right paw and exposing my underbelly for him to pet.

“My my
,
you smell so good
.
You had a bath
,
did you
,
little bandit? Greta will love him
.
I'm sure she'll fall for him at first sight
.
Our little Abarax looked just like him.”

Shoshana served cookies and lemonade.

“He's a wonderful dog,” she said
.
“A really wonderful dog.”

“What can he do? Have you trained him?”

“He only knows ‘sit' and ‘down,' but he's very bright
.
When he's hungry
,
he'll tap his paw on the rim of his food dish
,
and if he wants to be taken out for a walk
,
he'll bring us his leash in his mouth.”

“Is that so?” Frank smiled
.
“It sounds like the little bandit is trying to train
you
.”

Kalman nodded in consent.

“Is everything all right?” Frank asked
.
“You seem nervous.”

“I'm worried that the children will return. . . .”

“The children?
!
Aren't they at school?”

Kalman shook his head
,
and an uncomfortable silence ensued.

“Okay,” Frank said
.
“I'll take him and go
.
Please don't worry
,
we'll treat him like a prince
.
We'll replace his water every day and give him plenty of food
.
I promise
.
You really mustn't worry
.
He'll want for nothing.”

Frank rose
,
took my leash
,
and hooked it to my collar.

Kalman brought my face close to his and I could see tears in his eyes.

“Good-bye
,
beloved little pup
.
Don't you worry
.
Frank and his wife will treat you well.”

I licked his face.

“I haven't told the children yet,” he disclosed to me in a whisper
.
“Maybe I'll tell them that you got lost or got run over by a car
.
Or maybe I'll tell them the truth
.
I don't know what to do.” Kalman took my head into his hands and blessed
,
“May the Lord bless you and keep you
;
May the Lord make His face shine light upon you and be gracious unto you
;
May the Lord turn His face toward you and give you peace.” He held his face against mine
,
and his tears soaked my whiskers.

Shoshana couldn't hold her tears back either.

Frank looked embarrassed.

“You should know,” she said
,
“he really is a very smart dog
.
He's like a child
.
It's as if he was human
.
He simply understands everything
.
He has incredible comprehension
.
You really don't need to train him – he understands everything on his own.”

“He looks clever
 . .
 .” Frank Heinz stammered
.
“You can come visit him whenever you please.”

Kalman and Shoshana said nothing.

With the helplessness of a dog living in a world ruled by humans
,
I looked out the window of Frank's Volkswagen and stared at the Gottliebs' house for the last time.

Shoshana and Kalman watched me leave from the window
.
Kalman's hand held Shoshana's hip comfortingly
.
They both stood with their heads hanging low
.
How can I bear to watch these evils come upon me? How can I bear to watch the loss of my childhood home? My entire existence had been filled with Gottliebs
.
The air in my lungs had always been blended with their scent
.
What would become of me now?

I couldn't picture the world at large
,
let alone my own little world
,
without the presence of Kalman
,
Shoshana
,
and their children.

And what is such a world?

A dried ravine
,
an arid lake
,
a wasteland.

CHAPTER 13

F
rank Heinz did not keep his promise
.
The treatment I received was despicable
.
From the moment I stepped into their house
,
Greta was decidedly cold to me
.
I was not granted even one hour of grace.

“Do you remember what my father said when I told him we were getting married?” she cross-examined her husband.

“I assume that's a rhetorical question.”

“No
,
I'm really asking if you remember.”

“He said I'm a good guy.”

“He said
:
‘Frank is a good guy
,
but he doesn't look before he leaps.' You got mad at my father
,
but I'm sorry
,
he was one hundred percent on the mark
.
If you had thought about it
,
if you had taken five minutes to think about it
,
you wouldn't have done something so stupid.”

“Why is this so stupid? When I brought Abarax home
,
you weren't over the moon at first
,
but it soon grew into true love.”

“That's not true
!
With Abarax it was love at first sight
.
I just wasn't sure that it was the right time in our lives to raise a dog.”

“And now isn't the right time?”

“What are you talking about?
!
It isn't about timing
.
How can you be so thick? The water in Abarax's dish is still clean
,
and you come home with a new dog? Besides
,
he doesn't look a thing like Abarax
.
How could you even think that a Jew's dog could fill Abarax's collar? What's this thing's name
,
anyhow?”

“Caleb.”

“That's a stupid name.”

“Yes
,
yes
,
of course
.
But names can be changed,” he said
,
and then added jokingly
,
“the Jews have gotten used to their names being changed
.
I thought perhaps we could name him Abarax.”

“What?
!
What?!” Greta roared.

“I'm sorry
,
I just thought that. . . 
.
Well
,
it doesn't matter
,
you're right
.
No
,
it's really not a good idea
.
Maybe
 . .
 .” Frank suggested
,
trying to appease his wife
.
“Maybe we'll just call him Zelig
.
Zelig is an excellent name for a dog
.
Yes
,
it has a nice ring to it
:
Greta
,
Frank
,
and Zelig Heinz.”

Greta walked off toward the kitchen and returned with a glass of water
.
She was tall and stiff
.
Her long strides exuded vulgarity
.
It was the first time in my life that I had disliked a person so intensely.

“Zelig is a nice name,” she said
,
“but I don't have the patience or the inclination to raise this dog
.
I have a bad feeling about him
.
Look at him
,
he has the eyes of a Jew
.
I'm telling you
,
he isn't fit to lick Abarax's paw.”

She looked at me
,
then at Frank
,
and then back at me
,
straightened the tablecloth and declared
:
“I do not want him
.
Either you return him to the Jewish dump he came from
,
or you raise him yourself!”

I listened to this humiliation with drooped ears and prayed that Frank would return me to the Jewish dump I came from.

My prayer was not answered
.
Frank decided to try and raise me himself
.
I can only assume he hoped that
,
as time passed
,
his hag of a wife would soften up and eventually accept me.

Food and walks were now cut down to a bare minimum
.
Once a day
,
Frank would fill my dish with rice and dried sausages
.
By my snout
,
I swear those moments when he filled my dish were the only happy moments of each long day
.
Aside from the dish-filling
,
I had nothing to look forward to
.
The food tasted fine
,
but the quantity left much to be desired
.
Every day
,
I waited for Frank to pick up the serving cup and go out to the balcony
.
The food would soon be devoured
,
and I would collapse onto my rug
,
trying to accept the fact that there were now twenty-four hours between me and my next meal
.
Begging for food during their meals was strictly forbidden
.
Where was my beloved Herschel
,
zu lengere yaren
,
5
to stretch his hand under the table and smuggle me a bite of smoked salmon or half a butter sandwich
?
Once Herschel had snuck me a whole cutlet and the entire maneuver went unnoticed
.
I had quietly snatched the loot and gobbled it up where no one would see me
.
The sharp memories pierced my heart
.
Look at me now
,
I thought
,
my heart aching –
a ris in hertzen
.
6

Each day
,
I was granted one walk
.
Two if I was lucky
.
Either way
,
they were never very long
.
Usually Frank took me out
,
but one of the rare instances that Greta walked me was brutally eye-­opening
.
She dragged me along at a quickened pace that didn't allow for my customary sniffing breaks
.
Then she met one of her friends
.
The friend wasn't quite as tall as Greta
,
but she was a sizeable woman
,
wrapped in a fur stole and holding a cigarette between two long fingers
.
A smile stretched over her powdered face
.
“Ah
,
how nice
.
I didn't know you adopted a new dog.”

“Please
,
do not even joke about that
.
I intend to get rid of this dog the first chance I have.”

“He's actually pretty cute
.
What did he do to get on your bad side?”

“I don't think he's cute at all
.
He sits in the corner and does nothing all day
.
If we leave him home alone
,
he wreaks havoc
.
Last week
,
he ate half of my living room carpet.”

“I don't see anything wrong with sitting in the corner,” Powder Lady said
.
“I wish my Shtinky would just sit quietly sometimes and not wag his tail all over the house
,
knocking glasses off the table. . . 
.
By the way
,
I read Frank's last interview with Piet Harlan
.
I must say I simply loved it
.
To tell you the truth
,
I didn't even know that Christina Söderbaum was his wife
.
How is dear Frank?”

“Frank is fine
.
He mentioned recently that he might be asked to write about Carl Orff
,
but I don't know much more than that
.
He hasn't done much since his last article
,
besides bringing this pest into our home. . . .”

“Listen
,
I have an idea for you
.
You can buy him a chew bone at the butcher
.
He'll be too busy with the bone to cause too much harm.”

“I'll think about it,” Greta said
,
and the two parted.

And I
,
understanding almost every word despite the strange pronunciation
,
didn't know what to do with myself
.
There was the vague promise of a bone
,
but Greta's cold words laid out the harsh reality clearly for me
.
It was a painful blow
.
I suddenly realized how far I'd fallen
.
In one swift motion
,
I went from pet to pest.

On our way home
,
we walked past a large park
.
Many dogs were playing together there
.
I barked
,
indicating that I wanted to play with them
.
I wagged my tail in the most sycophantic manner
,
but Greta was not impressed
,
and I was dragged back home against my will
.
I was frustrated
,
and refused to subdue my playfulness
.
My usual way to generate some excitement and fun was to tear paper
.
I took a book that had been placed within jaws' reach and shook it so hard that half the pages fell out
.
I was so engrossed in the shredding that I barely noticed Greta
,
the killjoy
,
entering the room.

“No!” she cried
.
“Not
Mein Kampf!
This time you've gone too far!”

She locked me in the pantry
.
Outside
,
it was getting dark and I started to worry
.
I didn't know if my punishment had a time limit
.
This was the first time in my life that an unsurmountable obstacle stood between me and my water dish
.
It was the first time in my life that a door separated me from my food bowl
.
I sat on a rag and rested my head on my paws
.
What would happen when I'd need to empty my bladder?

I heard knocks on the front door and Greta's clicking heels hurrying over to open it
.
The key turned
.
I hoped it would be Frank
,
but instead I heard the sincere voice of Father Flaschbuch.

“Say ‘Good evening' to Mrs
.
Heinz,” he instructed his daughter.

“Good evening,” said the well-trained Barbara.

Greta reciprocated with a greeting of her own.

From the pantry
,
I could hear Greta reading to little Barbara from their usual book.

At first I listened carefully to Greta and to her stories
,
but eventually I lost interest
.
Time ticked away slowly until I suddenly heard Frank's footsteps in the hallway
.
He walked into the house.

I considered barking
,
or at least emitting a weak whimper
,
but Frank
,
who was obviously surprised not to find me jumping on him as usual
,
beat me to the chase and asked his wife
,
“Where is Zelig?”

They began to argue.

“What?!” Frank sounded appalled
.
“You haven't taken him out? He's been locked in the pantry since this ­morning?”

“He could burst in there
,
for all I care!” Greta yelled
.
“A sorry excuse for a dog!”

Barbara began to cry
,
and the shouting subsided
.
Frank let me out of the pantry and hooked on my leash
.
I loved my leash
;
it still smelled of Kalman.

“You can stop by the butcher and get him a bone,” Greta suggested before our departure
.
“Maybe if he has something to chew on
,
he won't cause quite as much trouble.”

“Yes,” Frank replied
.
“Yes
,
that's a good idea
.
I'm sorry I raised my voice at you. . . .”

We went on our walk
.
Something in the air told me that it was almost the Sabbath
.
My nostrils were tickled by the familiarity of distant scents
.
Frank and Greta had no traditional family meal
.
They didn't light candles or recite a blessing after washing their hands
.
They didn't sing throughout the meal
,
nor did they mumble to themselves at its close
.
Instead
,
at the beginning of each meal
,
Greta would hold her hands together
,
bow her head
,
and say Grace to her Savior
.
She would then move one hand up and down and side to side before beginning to eat.

Outside
,
we met Maximilian sitting on the bench
,
waiting
.
Frank sat by his side and let out a long sigh
.
“That woman is nothing but trouble,” he said. “She just won't let me be. She always reminds me of what her father used to say.” Then he imitated her high-pitched, argumentative voice, “Frank is a good boy, but he leaps before he looks.”

“He couldn't be more right!” Maximilian said
,
resting a comforting arm on Frank's shoulder
.
“If you had given it a moment of thought
,
you wouldn't have married the daughter of such a pain in the ass.”

Maximilian was a charming man with a square and lanky build
.
His facial features were refined
,
and a long cigarette was permanently fixed in his mouth.