"LEOYE" A SHORT STORY

"LEOYE"

Rebecca sounded frantic on the phone. Terrible thoughts raced through my brain upon hearing her despondent tone. Was Leo sick, injured, or God forbid, dead?

"Ok, take a breath. Slow down and tell me what's wrong, Sweetie," I soothed. "You've got to help me, Cherie. I don't know what to do," she cracked. "Well, what's going on? Is Leo hurt? Has something happened to him," I questioned with mounting concern. "No. No. It's nothing like that. It's much worse," she moaned, "I really believe Leo hates being Jewish!"

"I beg pardon. What did you say, Rebecca?" "You heard me, Cherie. Leo hates being Jewish and I'm at wit's end as how to handle it." I pulled the receiver away from my ear and looked at the phone incredulously. Did I actually hear what I thought I heard? Shaking my head and sighing heavily, I lit a cigarette and, reluctantly, returned to the conversation.

"I'm sorry, Rebecca. You were saying." "It's Leo's behavior. He's acting out and totally disrespectful of his faith," she began in an exasperated tone. "Like what? Give me a for instance, so I can better understand," I pried. "Well, he ruined our Chanukah celebration last night for starters," she snapped, "I've never been so embarrassed. Grandma is furious and I doubt the Rabbi will ever speak to me again." "Ok. Take it slow and tell me what he did."

"Everything was set for the dinner party. The house looked lovely. Leo was polite and cordial to each of the guests as they arrived. That is, until Rabbi Rosenthal came through the door. Suddenly, he became a real brat for no reason. He started whining, crying, and begging to be picked up. And when I wouldn't, he began running around the room like a banshee. He almost knocked the man off his feet," she cried. "Sounds like he just needed Momma's attention," I offered. "Maybe so, he's young," she agreed, "But, Cherie, then he grabbed the Rabbi's tzitzi with such force he spun the old man around like a dreidel. And I couldn't get him to let go, no matter what I did. He was like a wild animal." "Tzitzi. What's that, Rebecca?" "It's the shawl that's worn and hangs down below the belt. You've seen it before, I'm sure. The Orthodox Jewish men wear them," she explained. "And Leo took hold of the Rabbi's?" "Yes, and it was a horrible sight," she answered, "It was like he was using it as a pull toy." "I can see how that was disrespectful and out of line," I began only to be interrupted. "There's more, Cherie. Let me assure you."

I hunkered down and prepared myself to hear of the next faux paux. "Soon, thank God, everyone including Rabbi Rosenthal had a good laugh about what he did." Rebecca continued, "The evening was going smoothly and everybody was having a good time. After finishing our lovely meal, we decided to gather around the piano and sing some traditional holiday songs. That would be fun. But, Leo must have found them offensive because he started howling and screaming at the top of his lungs. He made such a racket and was so disruptive you couldn't hear one note."

I'd had enough. "Rebecca, he's a beagle! They howl. It's their nature. He probably was just joining in. I don't think it was what you were singing, but that you were singing that set him off." "But," she began to argue. I cut her short. "And as far as the Rabbi and the titsy, or whatever you call it, well Leo probably thought it was a tug. You know he loves to play with those kinds of toys. He saw it dangling and." "That's well and good, but what about Grandma and the other horrid things he did," she challenged.

"Tell me," I said dreading she would. "Well poor Grandma was all furklumpth and began yelling in Yiddish. Leo rushed over to her and started barking non-stop. He wouldn't let her speak. He acted as if she was talking jibberish." "Perhaps, he was spooked by her tone and didn't understand what she was saying," I explained. "But then, Cherie, he ate a dreidel. In fact, he ate two. " "I hear what you are saying, Rebecca. And it sounds like Leo was on a tirade last night. But honestly, I don't think it has anything to do with him being Jewish and not liking the fact. He was just being his rambunctious, crazy self. He was just being the doggie you love and adore."

"Oh yeah," Rebecca countered, "Well, before we went to bed, he walked over to the coffee table where my Talmud was laying, lifted his leg and pissed on it. I rest my case." She had me on that one. I didn't know how to respond.

"Cherie, are you still there?" "Yes, I'm here," I answered, "The Talmud, huh?" "Yes, it was so blasphemous, so obscene. I couldn't believe it. You can't tell me you don't see religious rebellion at play now, can you," she demanded. "You might be right after all," I finally agreed in an effort to appease her and bring the conversation to a close. Jesus Christ! My little Catholic brain was on overload.

"Let me ask you something," Rebecca began, "Has Leo been hanging out with new companions lately?" "What do you mean?" "Well, I'm just wondering if there are any different dogs he has been associating with recently." "No," I answered, "He goes out with Gaytor, Gumbo, and the two poodles he's been walking with for six to nine months. Nothing has changed."

"Please, Cherie, don't take this wrong. I know Gaytor and Gumbo are Leo's dearest friends, but they did come from the South didn't they?" "Uh yeah," I responded, "Leo did too, right?" "Yes, he did. But, I truly thought he was use to being in New York. Now I'm not so sure," she responded. Then continuing, "The reason I ask about Gaytor and Gumbo is that, I just am worried they might be teasing him about being a Jew. I mean, we both know Jews are still persecuted in the South." "I really don't believe they are hassling him, Rebecca. They aren't prejudiced. And besides, they love Leo like a brother." "Would you mind speaking to them anyway," she requested. "Of course," I promised. "Because otherwise, I'm afraid the redneck breeder I got him from might have brainwashed him while he lived in Alabama as a pup. It all could be catching up with him. And if that's the case, I'm going to have to get a psychiatrist to see Leo to deprogram him." I almost laughed out loud.

"One more thing and I'll let you go," Rebecca began, "Could you do me a special favor?" "Sure thing," I said without hesitation. I'd have told her anything to put a stop to this insanity. "If you wouldn't mind, Cherie, would you see if you could introduce Leo to some nice Jewish dogs in the neighborhood? I think, if he could be around more doggies that share his ethnicity it would have a good influence on him. You know strength in numbers. Is it possible to have Leo join a predominantly Jewish playgroup?" "I'll do my best," I assured her, "And I'll keep an eagle eye on him and keep you up to date."

This seemed to be what she needed to hear because after voicing relief and thanking me profusely, she said goodnight. Of course, upon hanging up, I was left to mull over the hour and a half of her verbal madness. Now I had heard everything. Good Lord, I'd better brush up on Judaism by morning, so I could talk to Leo and not exacerbate the situation. The poor pooch had enough to contend with living with that loon.

The next day, I walked into the apartment and heard something crunch beneath my feet. Before I could even look down, Leo came running toward me with a box in his mouth. It was an empty box of matzo crackers. He had thrown the contents from one end of the living room to the other. And if that wasn't bad enough, he had knocked the menorah to the floor and bitten each of the candles in half. For a second, I entertained the thought his owner might be on to something. Could Leo actually be an Anti-Semite?

I cleaned up the evidence. Rebecca didn't need to come home to discover this latest insult. It would only fuel her crazy ideas. In my pet care business, I had encountered my share of neurotic animals. And with all that was happening it was apparent Leo was becoming one for the books. But, I knew there was a reasonable explanation why he was doing all of these strange things. And it, certainly, wasn't that the beagle was a bagel and lox bigot.

I leashed up my charge and we headed over to my place. He could play with his pals while I relaxed in a warm bubble bath and pondered what this change in his behavior might mean and how it could be corrected. I decided to have a serious talk with Rebecca that evening. I'd reassure her that although her pet was acting out it was probably just a phase. Perhaps a houseful of guests had threatened his space. Maybe the change in the weather triggered his recent antics. Dogs get insecure and have free-floating anxiety just like we do. In a day or two, I had no doubt he'd be his old self and everything would return to normal.

Gumbo and Gaytor were peacefully dozing. But, where was Mr. Leo? I heard munching in the bedroom and followed the sound. I couldn't believe my eyes. I couldn't grasp what I was seeing. He wasn't chewing on rawhide. He wasn't gnawing on a bone. No, he was eating my yarmulke collection. Holy Mother of God, either his owner was right or I was in the twilight zone with her.

"Cherie, I'm so sorry for going on like I did last night," Rebecca apologized, "I must have sounded like a lunatic. Why I thought my dog had problems being Jewish I'll never know. That's pure craziness. You must think I'm nuts." "You have nothing to be sorry for, Honey. It's understandable. You were worried about Leo," I gently told her. "So, he's ok," she asked. "He's perfectly fine and will get over being angry in no time. I think being circumcised last week, excuse me neutered, pissed him off. He'll be ok. He'll adjust. But, if I were you, Rebecca, I'd not plan on a "Barkmitvah" anytime soon."

This story is the intellectual property of Cherie Leahy Smith.