By We recently adopted a fur-baby from a family who’d gotten in over their heads with responsibility and decided to rehome “Jujubee.” That was the dog’s name (like the old-fashioned gumdrop candies) and because we felt it confusing for the poor chap to change it, the name stuck. Everything changed when the previous owners informed us he responded best to his nickname: JuJu.
My husband decided this was a sign the dog had a Jewish soul and needed tradition and religion. This was a good thing since now there would be no need for a formal synagogue conversion ceremony. We simply changed the spelling on the official veterinary chart to JewJew.
My husband’s first task was attaching a star-of-David onto JewJew’s collar and hanging a mezuzah on his doghouse. Next, even though it wasn’t Passover, he proceeded to ask aloud the (slightly tweaked?) familiar four questions: 1. Why is this dog different from all other dogs? 2. All other dogs play at a dog-park, why do Jewish dogs frolic at a dog-parve? 3. If other dogs have their ancestral background listed as ‘canine,’ why then do Jewish dogs have their roots in Canaan? 4. While other dogs learn to fetch, why does a Jewish dog learn to kvetch? Okay, okay, perhaps I made up that last question and my hubby didn’t really ask it. So sue me.
You may be wondering what kind of breed JewJew was. Clearly not a purebred, so he was what you’d call in Yiddish, a ‘Muttshugana.’ If I had to guess, I’d say a mix of German Shleppard, a Schmaltese, and a bagel … err I mean beagle. But one thing was obvious, when he was happy, he not only wagged his tail, he also wagged his tallit.
Feeding JewJew was social (he liked shmoozing and joking) therefore we dubbed it “Kibble n’ Kibbitz” time. But since he wasn’t a Jewdle poodle, we didn’t serve noodle strudel. Okay, you caught me … now I’m just being overly silly!
In all seriousness, while other owners worried about dogs getting rabies, we worried about Rabbis. Would JewJew bite our Rabbi? Should we muzzle him? Answer: No muzzle, only matzah—he viewed unleavened crackers as yummier than dog treats!
As you might have suspected, JewJew was extremely smart and well-educated, therefore we thought a career in accounting or finance was in his future. In fact, when commanded to roll over, he simply transferred assets from one IRA to another, tax free! When told to shake, the banker found JewJew’s trick a delightful way to seal the deal. But he wouldn’t play dead without a life-insurance policy.
Not knowing JewJew’s exact age, I could see he was becoming a mature dog so I planned his Bark Mitzvah. My husband couldn’t wait to hear JewJew recite “barwoof atah Adonai” and for our guests to shout “Muzzle Tov!” Instead of traditional yarmulkes, I ordered custom pawmulkes and had the caterer make extra hard matzo-balls for JewJew’s four-legged guests to play fetch with, while the DJ blasted “Who Let the Dogs Out?” Naturally we made certain there were lots of Jewish “chewish” toys strewn around the party venue. Leftover food was sent home in (wait for it) doggy-bags … duh! There was only one embarrassing moment—a non-Jewish dog thought he was being clever bringing JewJew a dreidel shaped like a bone, but calling it a “drool-del.” We had to explain this was not Chanukah … poor confused gentile pup. Accompanying him on the prance floor was a shvitzing, shickered, shedding, shih-tzu shiksa. Oy! But it was the happiest, (yappiest!) Bark Mitzvah I’d ever seen!
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