Spot the Dog Passes Away

While we are on the subject of sad news, I should report that Spot the Dog has passed away. He was known by many other names, too numerous to mention here, but his favorite was perhaps "The Dog Formerly Known as Spot". He was 14 1/2 years old.

He came down with Lymphoma last Rosh Hashannah, and his vet, Dr. Marganite, was able to keep him alive for almost a year. He got chemotherapy at the animal hospital in Beer-Sheva, which was effective as long as he was on it, but then relapsed a couple of months after it stopped. He passed away, or was "put to sleep" as the saying goes, on the 17th of Tamuz, the middle of July, a fast day on the Jewish calendar, after he had stopped eating and drinking. He finally lost the energy to stand.

Spot the Dog's final photo. Too weak to stand, he still puts on a good face at the vet's.

We took him to Dr. Marganite who examined him and agreed with us that his time had come. She told us to say good bye, and she said that this made everyone sad but she would not cry to stay professional, but then we all started to cry. She took Spot away and then a short time later I heard the squeeky wheels of the gurney and knew his end had come. They put him in a plastic sack and wrapped him in the sheet we had brought, after which he was put in a cardboard box which was taped shut. We wheeled him out to the car and placed him in the back seat and drove home to Mitzpe Ramon.

We decided to bury him in the JNF forest near the Machtesh, just below the Wise Observatory where I do my star tours every night. Yishbot, one of the Black Hebrews, dug his grave under a tree at the least used edge of the forest. Our friend Chaim helped us bring him up and bury him. We placed his old sleeping sheepskin in the grave and then placed him in his box on top. Pam almost lost her purse in the grave since we hadn't realized she had put it on the sheepskin in the car. Fortunately, we found it before the dirt started flying. Otherwise, Spot would have had quite a Pharonic burial.

Spot is placed on his sheepskin in his little grave above Mitzpe Ramon

Chaim helps us bury Spot in the JNF forest.

After we finished covering his grave with dirt I put large rocks on it, as Dr. Marganite suggested, to keep the wild animals from digging him up.

Spot's grave site in the JNF forest above Mitzpe Ramon

Every time we visit I add a large rock to the pile to protect him. It is also a Jewish custom to leave a rock of remembrance on a grave at every visit. The pile has gotten very big.

Spot's rock pile on his grave site.

We miss Spot every day, but as Yair, our grandson said, "I miss Spot, but it makes me happy when I remember him." What better could be said about a dog? We miss you and remember you, buddy.

Fighting Lymphoma - An Update on Spot the Dog

Ever since his diagnosis of lymphoma in September, Spot the Dog has been going to the Be'er-Sheva Animal Hospital for chemotherapy. He is on the multi-drug protocol where his initial treatment was a different drug weekly for 8 weeks, followed by biweekly treatments for six months. He also takes prednisone daily with his lunch of challah and dog food.

His appetite, always big, has become huge and he eats enough table food at each meal for a healthy adult and then consumes 3-4 cups of dog food per day on top of that! So, I finally found a way to get Spot's vet to stop making me feel guilty about over feeding him and his over weight problem.

"Ok," says Dr. Marganit, "I'm not going to fight with you over a dying dog." :)

Fortunately he has not had any serious side effects from his treatments, no nausea or vomiting. His body hair has gotten a bit thin and the hair over his rump isn't growing back well since his haircut in October, but other than that his side effects appear minimal.

For his chemotherapy a small catheter is inserted into a vein in his leg into which his medecine is injected. His biggest problem is that he has old veins which are very small and hard to use, so sometimes he has to get punctured in each leg during a treatment to find a vein that will work. Dr. Marganit, his great vet, has to use a needle made for a kitten, his veins are so small! But she always manages to make it work.

Dr. Marganit and team prepare Spot the Dog for his chemotherapy. (Click for full size image.)

When he was first diagnosed he was very sick, sleeping all the day, high fever, anemia. Since his treatment began, his blood work is back to normal, although there are still nasties circulating in it. Now he is more like his old self, although he refuses to go on walks. He was even frolicking a bit the other day. He still sleeps alot, but now he is much more alert and engaged, especially at meal time. He doesn't like to be touched and petted much any more, and Donny is the only person he will let do that.

Yair is still on the outs with Spot, and sometimes when he doesn't think we're looking, he will try to give him a kick. Spot just moves away. Spot's external lymph nodes were very swollen when he first began his therapy, and now all but one have returned to normal. But just this week, that remaining swollen gland has shrunk alot, so we are quite encouraged by his response to his treatment.

Spot the Dog says "Arf" to all of his friends who send wishes for good health and a speedy recovery.

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• Lymphoma in dogs

Living with Lymphoma - a Guest Post by Spot the Dog

On Erev Rosh Hashanah it was suspected, and just before Erev Yom Kippur it was confirmed - I have lymphoma. Lymphoma is a cancer of the lymph nodes. Untreated it usually results in death in dogs within two months. With chemotherapy, I could live another 12-18 months.

I went to Dr. Marganit at the Beer-Sheva Animal Hospital, feeling very sick. I had been sleeping most of the day for almost a month, lost my appetite, and as it turned out had a high fever.  She found that my eyes had started to get cataracts, and my lymph nodes were terribly swollen all over my body. She said that the inflammation from fighting the disease can give dogs cataracts, and all my symptoms were classic for lymphoma. She took needle biopsies of my lymph nodes and sent them off to the pathologist. She confirmed the diagnosis.

There was alot of crying in the vet's office and at home afterward. But I don't hold any truck with such sentimentality and move away from the crying people as soon as I can. One of my favorite movies is The Barefoot Contessa, and I have adopted Maria Vargas' (Ava Gardner) family motto as my own: "Que sera, sera." "Whatever will be, will be." Stoicism befits a dog's life.

There is chemotherapy available to prolong the life of a dog with lymphoma. Now don't mock. I know that almost every treatment available for humans is available for a dog, from brain surgery to ligament surgery. Heck, I just had my gall bladder removed a few months ago. But a fatal disease, that is a different matter. Dog chemo is just meant to comfortably prolong the life of a dog. It doesn't aim for remission. That would make me too sick, and I do know that in the Great Chain of Being I am just an instrumentality, a means to an end, not an end-in-itself, having the dignity of man, as my favorite philosopher Immanuel Kant put it. It would not do to make me terribly sick to seek a cure.

But I do have a certain animal dignity, and the Torah prohibits causing T'sar Ba'alei Chaim, unnecessary pain to living creatures. But there is an expense to chemo, although much less in Israel than in the US, and a commitment to a long round trip from Mitzpe Ramon to Beer-Sheva every week for many weeks. And the chance of side-effects.

I knew these thoughts were going through master's mind. Would he be keeping me alive selfishly for himself, or would it also benefit me? Or perhaps he just wants to be done with an old dog?

I looked him in the eye during Rosh Hashanah and pleaded silently, "I want to live." This was my silent Shofar sounding for the Holiday, too sick as I was to blow with him as usual during Elul. Is this not the cry that every Jewish heart utters silently on Rosh Hashanah. We look to our Master as the Shofar, inarticulate as a dog's beseeching eye cries, "I want to live", in answer to "Who shall live and who shall die".

He heeded my look, and my chemotherapy began on the Tuesday before Yom Kippur. And as we read yesterday on Yom Kippur, "The preeminence of man over beast is naught, for all is vanity." (Ecclesiastes, 3:19).

That's my point of view, and you are welcome to it.

Further Adventures of Spot the Dog -- Spot Dodges a Bullet

Spot the Dog came home from the Beer-Sheva Animal Hospital yesterday. He had vomited almost continuously on Shavuot, eventually having dry heaves.  His vet, Dr. Marganit Yaffah, diagnosed an enlarged and partially blocked gall bladder that had to come out if Spot was to survive more than a few weeks. Spot's gall bladder was removed on Monday by a colleague and friend of Dr. Marganit, an Israeli veterinary surgeon who specializes in abdominal surgery. Dr. Marganit didn't tell us that there was a 40% mortality risk from the surgery, which was probably just as well. But that risk mostly applies if there has been leakage into the abdominal cavity or if peritonitis has developed. Fortunately, we caught Spot's condition early, so he had none of these complications.

Spot the Dog recuperates at home from gall bladder surgery. (Click photos for full-size images)

We were surprised at how perky he was at the hospital, and at home he shows almost no ill effects from the surgery and is back to eating and drinking without any problems. The recuperative powers of animals are quite impressive. It looks like Spot the Dog dodged a bullet.

Beer-Sheva Animal Hospital

Coming out of the hospital we encountered a sheep that had lost its way, with no Abu BoPeep in sight. The hospital is situated all alone on a hill near Tel Sheva, the real original site of the biblical Beer-Sheva, surrounded by acres and acres of fields empty of everything except wild flowers. Tel Sheva itself is just visible from the hospital in the distance.

The Beer-Sheva Animal Hospital at the top of a hill surrounded by fields and wadis.

In the early spring the fields are full of beautiful wild flowers with large blooms, but latter in the season those wild flowers give way to weedy wild flowers which still have their own rugged beauty.

Early spring wild flowers surround the animal hospital

Late Spring weedy flowers surround the animal hospital, seen in the distance at the top of the hill.

The hospital was originally built in 1973, according to a man I talked to at the CafeNeto this week. At one time research on veterinary health was conducted there, but I do not know if that continues today. Although some of the buildings are starting to show their age, especially the outdoor pens that are no longer used, the building is well maintained. The staff is extremely pleasant and helpful, and almost all of them speak English, some fluently, including Dr. Marganit herself. If you need anything more than routine veterinary care in the south of Israel, this is the place to go.

Beer-Sheva Veterinary Hospital on Google Earth

Spot the Dog is Sick

Spot the Dog took ill on Erev Shavuot. He got a very upset tummy, such as he has never had before, and threw up all night and day during the holiday, until his poor tummy was empty and then he had the dry heaves. We took him to see his vet in Beer-Sheva on Thursday at the Beer-Sheva Veterinary Hospital at the Tel Sheva junction.

All the trees and bougainvillea were in bloom in the city, making for a colorful sight. The animal hospital stands outside Beer-Sheva at the top of a hill near open fields about a mile from Tel Sheva, the archeological site that marks the real ancient location of Beer-Sheva, not the tourist trap concocted in the Old City. It is a very pretty and bucolic place.




Spot sees Dr. Marganit (Daisy) Yaffa there. Dr. Marganit is a younger, tom-boyish version of Sigourney Weaver with her brunette hair pulled back in a no-nonsense pony-tail, green eyes, and sun-flecked complexion. She is also the best vet Spot has ever had. Spot has been here alot since we came to Israel, because he had an ulcerated cornea that Dr. Marganit had to operate on. Sometimes I can't tell if he's really sick or is just suffering from Münchausen syndrome by proxy.

In any case, this time Spot was really sick, although when we first arrived Dr. Marganit thought he was just suffering from "Garbageitis", the intestinal illness dogs sometimes get from picking up random scraps of food from off the ground. A blood test showed that some of his liver enzymes were 1000x higher than normal. An ultrasound scan of his tummy showed that his gall bladder, already somewhat enlarged in an earlier visit, was grossly distended with some kind of mucosy substance partially blocking the bile duct. Surgery to remove the gall bladder was called for if Spot is to survive. So, Dr. Marganit called a friend who is a specialist doggy abdominal surgeon. He is scheduled to remove Spot's gall bladder next Wednesday.

Spot's earlier ultrasound with enlarged gall bladder (center shadow)

Spot's ultrasound from Thursday, showing a grossly distended gall bladder (large, dark shadow in center).

A Thank You Note To All My Friends For Your Bark Mitzvah Presents - A Guest Post By Spot The Dog

 
I would like to take the occasion of Yom Yerushalaim to thank all of my friends for their good wishes and presents on my Bark Mitzvah. The pens - I can't write with them, but they do come in useful as a stylus to hunt and peck at the keyboard when held in my mouth. In fact, I am using a very nice Aurora pen to peck this note out right now. The money - Yes, keep it coming! Preferably in the form of State of Israel bonds of large denomination.

Yom Yerushalaim is the perfect day to report back on my special Bark Mitzvah project, marking every hydrant in Jerusalem, so-called "East" and "West", as mine all mine. Yom Yerushalaim celebrates the reunification of Jerusalem as a single, sovereign city of the Jewish people after the Six Day War. Before that, no Jew was allowed access, and the Jordanians, Muslims all, committed the most sacrilegious desecration of the most holy Jewish places. Under what possible misguided idea could the President of the United States think Jerusalem should be redivided and given into the hands of Muslims again, who continue to desecrate Jewish holy places wherever they come under their jurisdiction?

Spot the Dog warns President Obama: "Don't get into a pissing contest with me over Jerusalem!"

In any case, I have solved the problem for all time. My Bark Mitzvah project is complete. If the President of the United States will only visit Jerusalem and get down on all fours, he will smell for himself that the City of Jerusalem, the City of David -- all of it -- belongs to the Jewish people forever. I am warning you, Mr. President: Do not get into a pissing contest with me over Jerusalem!

My point of view, and welcome to it.
   

Thoughts on the Occasion of Turning 13 - a Guest Post by Spot the Dog

Today I turn 13 and become a Bark Mitzvah. I wish I could say the famously trite line, "Today I am a man." But, alas, today I am but yet a dog. It is true that I am the reincarnated soul of a Misnagid (I won't say whom, but you would know the name well), forced to return to an earthly existence to repent for my sins against the Chasidim. I sit below the Shabbos table and relish the challah and gefilte fish I am fed which elevate my soul and help atone for the sins of my past life. And I am even included in the brachos that master gives the members of the family on Friday night. He holds his hand above me and intones:

May Hashem make you like the dogs of Egypt,
Who barked not at the Jews,
In their flight from Egypt by night;
And to no Jew may you ever give a fright.

But still and all, I remain trapped in the body of a dog. It is a terrible thing to be on the wrong side of history.

I remember well the day I was brought to my new home in Palo Alto from my place of birth in San Jose. In the car I met my new family and my young step-sister, Chavie. She had always wanted a dog. "Wanna dog. Gonna call him Spot," she would say. She wanted a Dalmatian, all of the children do after seeing "101 Dalmations", but there was no way that was going to happen. Dalmations are too dumb to even come in from the rain (it's true), and they shed on everything. Ush, such goyishe cups.

My first afternoon at home in Palo Alto with step-sister Chavie. I love Israel, but I will always remain a California dog at heart.

They decided to finally get me after a prowler broke into the house one Friday night on Memorial Day weekend. My master beat the tall, thin prowler with a chair as he ran for the door that had been locked behind him, and he had to dive through the glass to escape. Such a commotion. Police everywhere. Now Chavie was going to call me Spot. "I always told you I wanted a dog and his name would be Spot." Why "Spot" people ask after seeing my all blond self. "Whatever he's on, that's the Spot!" became the answer.

As I got older I stared to put on a little weight. All the vets lectured master about my weight, and tried to get me to go on a diet. But, look, I've lived thirteen years, keinehura, already, so a little weight obviously isn't going to start hurting me now. Everyone's a Vet!

My Vet, Dr. Groskin, in Englewood, NJ. A good man, but w-a-y too fixated on weight.

Now I have made Aliyah and live in the desert in Israel. My bones will be laid to rest one day with the bones of my ancestors. It comforts me to know that. But they still won't allow me to go to the Western Wall to celebrate my Bark Mitzvah. I thought about forming a new group, "Dogs of the Wall", to protest. But you know what, the Jews have enough tsoris already. Let sleeping dogs lie.

Instead, my Bark Mitzvah project will be to visit every fire hydrant in so-called "East Jerusalem" and claim it as my own by marking there. What is this nonsense about dividing the eternal, unified capital of  Israel? Does the world not know that the Arabs used the Jewish grave stones from the Mount of Olives to line their latrines when they controlled that part of the city!? Not even a dog would do that!

Tombstones from the Mt. of Olives line a Jordanian army barracks latrine

After 13 years on this Earth, I still do not understand it. But that's just my opinion, and you are welcome to it.

My point of view, and welcome to it.

  

Spot and the Trotting Ibex

Spot the Dog seems to be settling in to his new home. He has a taste for long walks that he hasn't had since he was a young dog many years ago. A few days ago he insisted on walking around the perimeter road of Mitzpe Ramon, a circular distance of about a mile from our apartment.

One of the nice views on this walk is the approach to Har Gamal, or Camel Lookout, a mountain whose top has been carved by wind erosion to resemble the body of a kneeling camel. I have heard the winds are quite fierce at the top of this mountain, and I look forward to the challenge of getting there some day soon.

Har Gamal, or Camel Lookout, as seen from Mitzpe Ramon's perimeter road

We were walking around 3:00PM, two hours before sunset. This seems to be the time the Ibex begin returning to the Machtesh from town. We saw a small herd in the field near the crater, and then this one who trotted quickly in front of us to join them. I love the sound of their hooves on the ground.

An Ibex trots in front of Spot and me

Spot paid no special attention to the Ibex who joined this small herd across the street.

A small herd of Ibex

They quickly ambled off toward the crater's rim, and we continued our walk home.

 

And They Walked Through on Dry Land in the Midst of the Sea Until They Came Out the Other Side

We are deplaning. We have been told someone will meet us at the gate and guide us through the Aliyah process at the airport where we will receive our immigration certificate, other documents necessary to register for a state ID card, medical care, open a bank account, and receive our immigrant financial benefits. I am skeptical this will happen, so I am taken aback when we are greeted by a fellow with a sign reading "New Olim Machefsky" as soon as we step off the jetway.

As it turns out, he is Shmuel A., the cousin of our friend Malkie A. who sold us our house in Englewood 9 years ago. Small world Jewish Geography strikes again. He is a volunteer for Americans and Canadians in Israel where he meets the new olim (immigrants) on morning flights into Ben Gurion airport. His father did this for many years before him and he has taken over the job since his father's passing.

I am worried about Spot now, and ask Shmuel if we can retrieve the dog before we proceed with our paperwork. He says No, we can't go down to the baggage area until we complete our paperwork, and besides, he assures us from his many years of experience that the dog is being taken care of and is fine. He says about 60 percent of new olim from the United States bring dogs and many get hysterical when told they can't see their dog immediately. Fortunately, I am above this and am mostly worried what I might have to do if Spot has messed in his kennel. But, 'Que Sera Sera', remember?

We are taken down to passport processing where instead of going through the usual line we are expedited through the airline crew windows. While we are waiting for our passports to be processed and stamped Shmuel points out the ATM-like machines on the side of the hall. People who carry Israeli passports can register for biometric processing and not have to wait online when going through passport control. This reminds me that Israel has more high-tech start-ups than all other countries in the world combined, except for the US, many in the area of security.

After our US passports are stamped we are on our way to the Ministry of Absorption to get our initial papers. I am delighted when I find we have a direct line to the Ministry to let them know we are coming. The only thing better than a direct line to an Israeli Ministry is a direct line to G-d!

The only thing better than a direct line to an Israeli Ministry is a direct line to G-d

A short elevator ride and walk later, we are seated  in front of the Absorption Ministry agent who guides us through our paper work. He issues us our Certificate of Immigration, which makes us official Olim Chadashim, New Immigrants, a term that always elicits a "B'ruchim Ha'baim" (Blessed are those who come) when announced to Israelis. As it turns out, he himself immigrated to Israel from France in the early 1990s. He tells us that during the height of the Russian immigration in the '90s and '00s the office processed over 3,000 new immigrants a week. The numbers are now only a fraction of that but the Ministry of Absorption office is always open at the airport 24 hours a day, 6 days a week, closing 1 hour before Shabbat and opening an hour after (Jewish holidays excepted, too, of course). So, you can make Aliyah any time of the day or night, any day of the week you can get to Israel.

We receive our Aliyah Certificate at the Absorption Ministry in Ben Gurion airport

We receive 2500 shekels in cash (about $500), the first of our immigration benefits, which continue throughout the first seven months and then at a reduced rate for the next year. We will also get a free taxi ride to our destination in Mitzpe Ramon, a long two hours from the airport. The agent says that some cab driver will be made very happy today. (My daughter tells us that in the old days they used to just give you a bus token and send you on your way. I'm glad the old days are gone. That would be tough with seven suitcases, one dog with kennel, wife, and many carry-ons.)

The agent and Shmuel accompany us down stairs to the baggage claim. This is the best time to be there. Everyone has long since claimed their bags and left. The only bags circulating are ours, and we quickly claim them and place them on carts. But first our attention turns to Spot whom we see in his kennel at the end of the baggage hall.  I expected to have to seek him out, so I am massively relieved when I see him waiting for us. He is dry and clean and no worse for the wear. We go outside, walk the dog, and wait for the taxi that will take us to Mitzpe Ramon.

On Wings of Eagles

There is a biblical metaphor, the image of an eagle that carries its young on its wings. The eagle flies higher than any other bird, and so cannot be attacked from above. Its pinions and fierce beak and talons protect from attack from below. So G-d carried the children of Israel out of Egypt, on the wings of eagles to protect them from harm. Now we are completing our Exodus on the wings of a modern eagle, a 777 Boeing ElAl jet liner. (May G-d protect us from harm.)

We are sitting at he boarding gate level at Newark, waiting for 12:30 so we can return Spot and his kennel for search and boarding. Pam is taking care of Spot, who is confused, but not panicked.

Spot waits for doggy check-in with Pam

I request a coke which Mark gets from Chili's. Chava decides on a Bloody Mary. We sit nervously and drink.

We drink and wait to board Spot

Suddenly a gate agent appears and asks me to bring Spot. What a surprise, the first time an airline agent has actually sought me out to bring me somewhere on time. Mark and I carry Spot's kennel back up to the ticketing level, where a guard searches the kennel and pats down the bedding, looking for explosives. He assures me that Spot will not be left outside in the cold and rain. I turn and walk away. Spot does not whimper or bark. I walk quickly so I will not hear him, in case he does.

We bid the Finkels good-bye and pass easily through gate security. We walk to the gate. Again there is no line. We walk on, unmolested with all of our carry-ons, find our seats with some difficulty, since seat labeling on airlines continues to baffle me, stow our baggage and wait for take off. The ticket agent has told us that the flight is not full, but all this appears to mean is that not every single seat is sold. There are a scattered handful unbooked.  So, the flight is nearly full but still surprisingly comfortable.

There is little to say about the flight. It was quick and easy. You could almost say we enjoyed "k'vitzat ha'derech", the shortening of the way that our biblical ancestors experienced on auspicious journeys: Jacob when he left Beer Sheva to go to Lavan; Eliezer when he left Abraham to go in search of a bride for Issac; and the Jews when G-d took them out of Egypt.

Our plane touches down at Ben-Gurion airport at 7:10 AM local time on Monday, December 14, 2009, the third day of Chanukah, 5770 years since the Creation of the World. It is an overcast day with intermittent showers. We are Home.

Waiting for the Sea to Split

We arrive at Newark Airport, Sunday morning, December 13, 2009, the second day of Chanukah, 5770 years since the Creation of the World. It is 11:30 AM, one hour later than I had planned to arrive. I am sure we are disastrously late, but I say nothing of it, since I have become a fatalist. As Ava Gardner says in The Barefoot Contessa, The motto of my family is 'Que Sera Sera', whatever will be will be. Or I have finally become a true believer, All that happens is G-d's plan for the best for us, and we must thank Him for the good as well as the bad that befalls us, the bad being only an apparent evil. Now is not the time to cry out and shrei chai v'kayum but to leap forward and hope against all odds that the sea will split and we will pass through on dry land.

I jump out of the car into a cold rain with Spot. As usual, he is panicked by the trip in the car and goes off with me to take a satisfyingly large poop. I am pretty sure that without eating he will not need to go again until after we get to Israel. An earlier giant pish at Rachel's has wrung him out pretty well, so I have done what I can to make his coming 14 hour ordeal as easy as possible.

Despite the fact that we are only two hours from departure, there is no line at the ElAl counter. Usually the line is miles long with people going through rigorous security screening, large families of Chasidim, tourists and Israelis waiting on line for a ticket agent with bags overflowing everywhere. We walk right up to the ticket counter, present our passports and eTickets, weigh our baggage, and are ticketed and given boarding passes. Our strategy of over loading each of six allowed suitcases a little and bringing an extra seventh pays off. The ticket agent gives us a pass on our overweight bags and only charges us for our single extra. She doesn't even glance at our many carry-ons.

Spot will have to return an hour before boarding so a security agent can check out his kennel, after which he will be sent on his way, wherever that is in the bowels of the airport. I see another couple traveling with a dog who tell me they take their dog with them everywhere they travel, no problem not to worry. This sets my mind somewhat at ease.

The Finkels, Pam, Spot and I make our way down to the boarding gate level at Newark awaiting the time we will return to the counter so Spot and his kennel can be searched and boarded. (Damn those terrorists!)

And so, 3300 years after the Exodus from Egypt, 1,937 years after the Roman Second Exile, and 60 years after the modern founding of the State of Israel, we return to the Land of our Fathers and Mothers: Abraham, Issac, Jacob, Sarah, Rivkah, Rachel and Leah.

...us and our Little Dog Spot.

Returning from the Second Exile

We Pack for Departure

Ok, so we are packing to leave. My wife is screaming at me becuase we have had 4 months to pack and here I am packing the night before our flight. I hurl curses at her. Liz arrives and sends me to a neutral corner, but not before I hurl curses over my shoulder to let them know I am down but not out.

Pam and Rachel pretend to be cheery about packing

We are flying on ElAl to Israel. The Jewish Agency is paying for our flight, as it does for all new Olim. Our luggage limit is three 50 pound suitcases each, one more suitcase than the two that are allowed for all other travelers. Because we have been living in Englewood four months longer than we thought we would, we have accumulated a substantial amount of clothing, shoes, coats, books, CDs, electronics, presents and other tchotshkies. We were planning to leave in late summer and here it is already winter. It will be difficult to fit our load into the six allotted suitcases.

It takes two near PhDs and a Harvard PhD computer scientist and Stanford JD to figure out that the optimum packing strategy is to overload each suitcase a little bit and then leave the rest for an extra suitcase, hoping that the airline agent will give us a pass on the overweight bags and only charge us for one extra. (As it turns out, $1 million of distributed education has not been wasted, since this is exactly what happens.) We end up with six overweight bags and a seventh at 50 pounds, plus many miscellaneous carry-ons that we hope they will allow us to carry on. (They do.)

Spot the Dog is flying doggy class in his kennel. I was supposed to get Spot kennel trained by keeping him longer and longer in it, but the most I can manage is to get him to sleep on the doggy bed in front of the kennel. This will have to do, as we leave in the morning.

Spot the Dog is none too thrilled about his trip to Israel

Finally at about 4:00am packing is declared complete, as there is nothing else to throw into the suitcases and no more suitcases to throw anything into. In the morning we will discover mounds of papers that I forgot to pack, and they will be stuffed willy-nilly into the outer pockets of our bags. We are almost done!

We Say Good-Bye to More Friends

We have always been fortunate to have a family-owned pharmacy where we took our prescriptions. I hate the anonymity of large chain drug stores. They are just as bad as clinics where you have no personal relationship with the physician. In Englewood we were customers and friends of Buckley's Drugs, the pharmacy now owned and operated by Gill Dominguez and his family. However busy he was, Gill always had time to pass on a story or tell a joke from his days as a drug salesman for Big Pharma. Gill's assistant, Loretta, was always ready to solve prescription problems with our insurace carrier and held down the counter when Gill was out.

Gill and Loretta at Buckley's Drugs in downtown Englewood, NJ

Jose is our main man at Buckley's. He is also an impresario in his own right and introduced me to the music of Cesaria Evora. Thank you Gill, Loretta, Jose, and all the staff at Buckley's!

Jose behind the counter at Buckley's Drugs

We also said good-bye to star dog groomer Ellie, proprietor with her husband of Troy's Trims and Treats in Englewood. Spot got his first trim at (Madame) Alexanders in Palo Alto, an award-winning groomer we thought would be hard to beat. But Ellie is up there at the top of her profession. There are no dog groomers in Mitzpe Ramon. She will be sorely missed.

Ellie with Spot at Troy's Trims and Treats

Spot the Dog Prepares for Aliyah

Today Spot the Dog went for his health certificate to make Aliyah to Israel. This, too, is a bureaucratically entangled matter. Not only does the vet need to be a USDA accredited veterinarian, but the health certificate needs to be further endorsed by the USDA state veterinarian. Spotty also needs to have a rabies vaccine at least 30 days before travel. Spot the Dog had his vaccine in early September, so no problems there. But the health certificate must be issued within 7 days of travel, so we only have seven days to get it endorsed by the USDA state vet. Well, the USDA vet didn't return our call today, so that only leaves 4 days to get his signature in Trenton, NJ before Friday. I sure hope we don't have to drive there to get it done.

Questions about papers for the trip to Israel in the Nefesh b'Nefesh forum reveal an interesting matter. Even according to long-time ElAl personnel, no dog has ever had its papers checked upon arriving in Israel. Nevertheless, we shall play it safe and make sure all of Spot's papers are in order.

Fortunately, our vet, Dr. Groskin at the Englewood Animal Hospital, is USDA certified, so we didn't have to seek out a new one. Spot the Dog is shown below being checked out for Aliyah by Dr. Groskin. I can't speak for Spotty, but we will miss Dr. Groskin and the staff at the Englewood Animal Hospital. They have taken care of Spotty for almost 10 years in illness and in health. Fortunately, he is in health for his trip to Israel. Bye bye Dr. Groskin. We will miss you.

 

Spot the Dog gets the once over from Dr. Groskin