Introducing Max

When the cat died, we said that would be the last of our pets. Forty years of cats, and now it was time to start living. No responsibilities, no worries when out of the house, when traveling. Yet my heart called out for more. A dog.

In the past few months, my children sent me WhatsApp notices of puppies up for adoption. My granddaughters nudged me over and over – "When are you getting a dog? "Soon," I promised them. "Soon," I promised myself.

"We'll get a dog when the house renovations are finished," Jodie said to me. Three months behind schedule, but at last the majority of the work has been completed. It's time for a dog.

It's time for a dog

I joined a number of Facebook groups. Dogs for Adoption. Dog Lovers – For Adoption Only! Adopting Dogs Limited. Posts of available dogs were frequent, but, none of them were suitable. Jodie and I had made a few decisions. No puppies—we wouldn't be able to handle the training. We wouldn't pay for a dog. No pedigreed dogs. No dogs from shelter that could be suffering from traumas in their past. And, possibly most importantly for Jodie, the dog should not be a barker. In short, we wanted to adopt a dog from a family.

The first dog we interviewed for the position was a big, black, beautiful dog with white spots—Panda—who belonged to the brother of the person in charge of Neve Ilan's youth activities. Panda lived nearby. Panda was very friendly, jumping to lick your face when you first met him. But Panda was strong. Very strong. When we took him on a quick introductory walk, Jodie immediately realized she wouldn't be able to handle him.

How is Max with children?

I found a listing for Max on Yad2, the popular site where people sell, buy, give away, and search for everything from apartments for sale or rent, cars, furniture, and apparently, animals.

I called the phone listed with Max and a young male voice answered the phone. I asked a number of questions. "Does the dog bark?" "How is the dog with strangers?" "How is the dog with other dogs?" "With cats?" "How is the dog with children?"

"He's very good with children," the person said. "I'm a child."

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Fifteen."

That wasn't what I meant when I asked about children. Would the dog get along with my granddaughters? Would he be a good match for my four-year-old granddaughter?

Max was born and spent his puppyhood in Karnei Shomron. From there, two teenage boys traveled on a bus for 90 minutes with Max to their yeshiva in Jerusalem. The yeshiva informed the boys that they had 2 days to get rid of the dog. The boys were rushed to give Max away.

We planned to go to Jerusalem to meet Max on Friday morning at 11:00, with no commitment to take him. But then, the meeting with Panda was set up, so I informed the boys that we were considering other options, that we wouldn't be coming into Jerusalem after all. A few minutes later I received an SMS. "So, are you coming to Jerusalem?"

When the possibility of adopting Panda didn't work out, I sent another message to the boys asking them if we could still come. They happily agreed.

We immediately feel in love with him

We met Max in one of the boy's homes in the Bayit Vegan neighborhood. It was a religious household—their table was already set for Shabbat dinner at ten in the morning. Max was a little hesitant about approaching us, but he seemed like a friendly, healthy dog. We took him for an introductory walk and Jodie confirmed that she was strong enough to handle Max's strength. So, we took Max home with us.

To say that our family, especially our granddaughters, were excited about meeting Max, was the understatement of the year. They immediately fell in love with him, as did I. As did Jodie.

Max is beautiful. Friendly. He gets along with children. He likes other dogs (but not all male dogs like him). He has a healthy appetite. He is healthy, vaccinated, and has an identifying microchip embedded under his skin. He likes to take walks. He will soon be neutered. And, he also has a mind of his own.

"Max!" we call out. He races on.

Friday night dinner. Our entire family is enjoying our meal in Merav's new apartment above ours. Max stands to the side, sniffing at the good smells coming from the table. "No table scraps for you! Sit, Max!" And he obeys. Mostly.

The front door is left open a few seconds more than it should, and Max dashes out. He bounds down the steep steps and into the street. He runs into unknown territory. Maybe he's heading for his Jerusalem yeshiva? Or for his previous home in Karnei Shomron?

We all race after him. Reut and Gali run in one direction and then Erez and I spot Max up the street. He's fast! And, it's starting to rain. Max dashes into a garden. And the rain picks up. It's dark and we don't see Max. It's suddenly a downpour, and we are soaked to the core. We reach the street and follow Max into a four-inch-deep puddle. "Max!" we call out. He races on.

At last, Max turns into a fenced garden and I am able to slip on his leash. We head back to the house, where the entire family is waiting.

Max is back. Max is with his new family. Max is wonderful. Max is now part of our lives. And, we'll make sure to keep the front door closed for now.

(Two days after this story was written, Max escaped again. We really need to keep the door closed!)

 

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