Boynton Beach Chronicles by Jerry Klinger (most read books of all time txt) 📖

Does Norman have a Soul?

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By Jerry Klinger

Ever since I was a kid, in the last century as my grandchildren like to remind me, I have always had a dog. It is hard to imagine life without a chewing, barking, pooping, loving four legged companion. It also seemed a strange question to me, does Norman have a soul? The question was asked, seriously, by a dear non- tribal friend. Actually, I had never thought much of, do dogs have souls, except to think, of course. Does

Norman have a Soul? That is a real question. Do dogs have souls? I assumed, of course.
"I assume"…. how often have I heard the definition of I assume, "to make an ass out you and me."

Menachem Mendel Meyer sat quietly in my living room. He twisted his payyot listening to my question. His eyes smiled. Menachem, or Mendel as he prefers to be called, is a very close personal friend. We met awhile back when he was just transplanted to the second fastest growing Jewish community in America, Boynton Beach, Florida, by his Rebbe's strong admonition to leave Brooklyn, as soon as possible, because of his debilitating arthritis.

I'm not sure what prompted me to talk to him, certainly no one else did. There was this strange appellation, something out of hundreds of years ago from Jewry's European past sitting in the Starbucks on Congress Avenue next to the Vitamins R'Us super store. I had stopped off for a Mocha Java Grande with extra Mocha and cinnamon. To be sure and stick to my diet I threw in two Nutra-sweets.

He was sipping a glass of water from a plastic cup at a corner table. Sweat visibly thickened through his white long sleeve shirt buttoned at the collar. He had a long black coat, a bit dirty and flayed at the hem that touched the floor. His oversized black felt hat, with the extra large firm brim, lay on the table. His full grey flecked beard wiggled whenever his hand nervously readjusted his black yarmulke. Mendel's large gentle eyes cried his tired confusion. He was out of his element. It was 82 degrees outside, very bright and humid.

We are two Jews from the same and different worlds. Yet we became close, each respecting the other. I welcomed him into my secular Jewish life and helped him get settled with a home and a job. Mendel welcomed me into his world where God and the living world are one. For the first time, since I virtually flunked out of the Yeshiva so many years ago, God was no longer so remote. It was Norman that brought us even closer. Norman is my little Cock- a- Tzu dog, a mix of miniature cocker spaniel and Shih Tzu. His breed name sounds like a chicken sneezing.
"Mendel," I asked, "What is a soul?"

He stopped twisting his long hanging payyot and smiled before he answered.

"There is a long Kabbalistic understanding of the soul" he said. Then he looked serious.

"A soul is like a chain with one end linked into the brain and the other to a certain spiritual source. There are five levels of the soul like the five links in a chain, each one parallel to the spiritual sphere where it exists. However, we only relate to the three bottom links as we have no understanding about the two top ones. The three are 1) Nefesh 2) Ruach 3) Neshama. The nefesh is the spiritual existence which resides in the body and keeps the physical metabolism working and the person alive. The ruach is a connection between the neshama and the nefesh. It is the cause of feelings and personal qualities. The neshama is the spiritual existence which pulls the man towards G-d, to the performance of good deeds, to be pious and humble and to seek knowledge and achievement in spiritual fields. It resides around the head.

When a person dies, it takes seven days before the parts of the soul understand that it's all over and leave the body. Until then they hover around the grave and travel to and fro between the grave and the house of the deceased, waiting for the body to start functioning again. The nefesh does not completely leave until the body is decomposed."

"Mendel," I cried out, "What in our world does all that mean?"

He sat back and laughed. "In your world it does not mean a sack of beans."

"But for those, almost living in the next world, it means a lot."

"Can we stick to my world for now Mendel?" I asked. We both laughed again.

"O.K. what is a soul?" he half closed his eyes and thought.

Norman put his paws up on Mendel's knees. His light brown eyes looked inquiringly into Mendel's deep brown ones.

"An animal's eyes have the power to speak a great language," from Martin Buber, Mendel said.
Mendel reached down and scratched him on the ear. It had taken Mendel a long time to be comfortable doing that.

Jewish tradition is very confused about dogs. On the one hand Cain was reputed to have had a guard dog. We know of the many times that IDF dogs have given their lives so that Jewish soldiers might live. Yet on the other hand the Talmud prohibits the keeping of vicious dogs in the house or on long leashes. Amongst the Chassidic community dogs are seen as unclean, even evil. For the rest of us, there are good dogs and bad dogs.

Midrashic tradition holds that God granted a special dispensation to dogs in Jewish households.
"The Torah states that just before imposing the Tenth Plague upon the Egyptians (killing of the first born), God told Moses that while there would be loud wailing throughout Egypt, but that where the Hebrews lived, not even a dog would bark.

The Midrash states that just before the Angel of Death descended, God instructed the dogs living amongst the Hebrews to be silent. The dogs complied with loving obedience. God was so impressed that He told them that because they had obeyed with such love, He would reward them. He would instruct the Jewish people that hereafter they should give their non-kosher food to the dogs."

In Mendel's Chassidic community dogs were a rarity. Dogs were not pets. Little children were taught they were filthy, dangerous, to be avoided. I have seen little girls in Jerusalem cowering behind their father's legs as a dog on a leash walked by; their fathers glowering at the dog and its owner.

Mendel had been raised in the same tradition.

Shmuel Herskovitz, who lived across from his as a child, had not. Shmuel had a little mutt he named Peanut because of his color. Shmuel and Mendel were friends. Twice a day Shmuel would walk Peanut. Mendel waited downstairs, out of sight of his parents, for Shmuel and Peanut to come down. Together they all would go for a walk and romp and play.

Shmuel would let Mendel hold his leash while they walked and Peanut would lurch forward savoring God's world with his nose, with curiosity, with delight, before doing his business. One day Mendel came home with Peanut hairs all over his black pants. His mother was distressed and his father hit him before sending him to his room.

Mendel promised to never disobey his parents again. He stopped playing with Shmuel and Peanut.

"The dog was created especially for children. He is the God of frolic - Henry Ward Beecher," I told Mendel when he shared his story with me.

We often enjoyed bantering quotes back and forth to cover the conflicted feelings we had deep inside us.

Norman had been a long time discussion in our home. The kids were married, settled up North in their own lives. Sheila did not want another dog. We had had one for 17 years when the children were growing up and Sheila was "retired "now. Rosey had died almost ten years ago. It was just Sheila and me in the house.

Working steadily and surely, I unsuccessfully tried every which way to convince Sheila why a dog was needed. It was her 87 year old mother who did the job for us.

She is 87, has a hard time breathing, cannot bend over to pick up after things but zests for life. She said to Sheila one day, "I want a dog. I can't manage a dog but you can. If you get a dog, I can come over and play."

Sheila and I had talked and talked about it. She joked with me about my persistence.

"I can't decide if we should buy a dog or have a child. I can't make up my mind if I want to ruin the carpet or ruin our lives?" she said.

"Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole- Alex Caras," I said.

It was a weak "O.K." but it was an O.K., I heard her say.

Moss does not grow under my bottom for long. We loaded into the car and headed for the Puppy Palace on Boynton Beach Boulevard.

Norman was the third dog she picked up. He was a white and gold ball of fur that squirmed and licked and licked Sheila's face until the makeup ran down her eyes from tears. He came home that day with us.

The first time Mendel met Norman, he was taken aback. Norman's way of meeting people is to bark and bark loudly. He lunges for the door, jumping and trying to get to whoever is coming in. Not knowing if Norman was ferocious or not, even if he could see he was only a little dog, Mendel backed away. Norman never showed teeth, he just jumped and barked.

I came in first and Norman jumped up on my legs, tail wagging, his face eagerly turned up to me. Picking him up for a warm hug, Norman's licker went to work on my face. "I missed you so much" he seemed to be saying.

Turning to Mendel, still holding back on the portico, I said "There is no psychiatrist in the world like a puppy licking your face- Bern Williams" I said.

Mendel did not respond.

I put Norman down and he gently walked up to Mendel. His little face turned up. His eyes sought Mendel's eyes. Mendel reached down and scratched Norman, tentatively. They walked into the house together.

Every time Mendel comes over they are inseparable.

I volunteer at the Homewood House on Atlantic Ave. not far from the entrance to the Florida Turnpike, where I was able to get Mendel a job as toll booth operator. Sometimes, Mendel walks over to the home to sit and visit with me as Norman and I visit the patients. Many are disabled and some suffer from severe dementia but Norman brings something of the human back out from their distant past. Norman went to Service Dog School and the Homewood House is supportive of Animal therapy dogs.

Norman is always a star there but so is Mendel the Chassid with his long full beard, payyahs and laughing eyes as he has the chance to introduce Norman to the folks in the day care room.