Canine Love - Moyshe Nadir
That which I endeavor to tell here is barely suitable to be printed.
We went for a stroll, my hound and I.
He is so faithful and thinks so much of me.
He thinks me to be the smartest person in the world.
When I offer him a crust of bread, he leaps on me.
His tongue is one great kiss, his big, brown eyes avow:
My master is a smartsmartsmarty!
Nobody’s smarter than you!
Only once have I been fooled by him; I shall never forget it.
Nor shall he.
So it happened:
We were walking upon through the woods. The day was hot and stirred up such a thirst in me that I stopped at ever spring we passed and drank.
Necessity then demanded I do that which is crudely human.
My dog stood stock-still, bewildered, and watched me as if he could not believe his eyes.
The fuck!? He thought me the smartest person in the world, and finally I reveal myself not even to know something as elementary, as to lift my leg to pee.
And he howled something awful.
And he never could again be calm – that faithful hound of mine.
from fun mir tsu dir, nayste verk IV, (New York: Freiheit Publishing co., 1932), 144