Rafi and I spent Shabbat in Shorashim. (Jeff is in America, of course.) We spent the afternoon with a family that has two dogs. In the afternoon we took the dogs for a walk. First imagine the scene:
Three adults, three dogs, and Rafi. Luna, a medium old dog, is aggressive toward other dogs and a bit of a ringleader, so she has to be on a leash. The giant one, Moose, is young and friendly and walks off-leash. A neighbor’s dog, also off-leash, is walking with us. Rafi, as he loves to do, is holding Luna’s leash.
So we’re strolling along, chatting away, when suddenly we hear barking and snarling…I realize we haven’t been paying attention, and the dogs and Rafi are out of sight! In a bit of a panic, we start to run, but we don’t see them. We run faster. Finally the dogs are in sight, four of them fighting, we see blood–and there’s Rafi not more than ten feet away, in a semi-squat, pulling on the leash with all his might to get Luna out of the fight.
He wasn’t even rattled. He proudly told us how he was holding the leash tightly just like he was supposed to.