from "Duke Rhino," a work in progress (by Mitch Sisskind)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bedlington terrier

Rabbi Frankenstein was a real person. It seemed impossible
that anyone could be named Frankenstein but there he was. 

Rabbi Frankenstein visited our apartment several times a year
to ask for a donation to the temple. He always brought a gift for
me, a small ceramic dog, and it was never the same kind of dog.
The World Book Encyclopedia had several pages in color showing
the different breeds of dogs so I always knew the breeds that Rabbi
Frankenstein brought. But I had never spoken up about it, I just
said thank you.

Talking with Rabbi Frankenstein was hard because of his name
and also because he had a glass eye. But now that I was in seventh
grade, I was starting to feel more confident about certain things. For
example, I used to be frightened of getting stuck in the freight elevator,
which had once happened to my mother and me, but now I liked
getting stuck in the freight elevator. I even knew how to make it get
stuck. So the next time Rabbi Frankenstein came over and gave me
a ceramic dog, I said, “Thank you for the Bedlington terrier.”

This happened at the start of the long hall near the guest bathroom.
My father and Rabbi Frankenstein were on their way to the library where
my father would write a check. Outside the door of the guest bathroom
the Rabbi took the ceramic dog out of his pocket, smiled, and handed
it to me. Usually he didn’t say anything when he gave me a ceramic
dog but this time, when I mentioned the Bedlington terrier, he turned
to my father and said, “A smart boychik you’ve got here.” 

Then he said to me, “How did you know it’s a Washington terrier?”

“Bedlington.”

“How did you know?”

“I just knew.”

I knew it was a Bedlington terrier because they look like
a sheep. No other dog looks as much like a sheep as a
Bedlington terrier. I had never seen one in person, I had
just looked closely at the picture in the World Book
Encyclopedia. But I didn’t want to go into all that with
Rabbi Frankenstein. I just held the ceramic Bedlington
terrier in my hand and felt sorry for it because it had been
in Rabbi Frankenstein’s clutches. There were other dogs
that were still in his clutches but at least some of them
would eventually be free because Rabbi Frankenstein
showed up two or three times a year.