One sunny morning I noticed a deer fressing (eating without cessation) the grass in our yard. At that time, I believed that the deer was just passing through the neighborhood, on a goodwill tour, sponsored, perhaps by the local frum deer population. However it appeared that he was looking over the area for future residence. After all, the neighborhood was filling up with shomrei Shabbos (Sabbath observers), families that fed their pets glatt kosher food. Some of the chayess (creatures) that live here were even learning Yiddish! And the deer in this neighborhood have a better chance for survival than other deer because, face it, how many Yidden are hunters? We align ourselves with Yaakov, the student, rather than with Esav, the hunter, right?
Nu, you may remark, dray nisht dehr kopp (stop confusing me). Just continue the tale! Iz azoy (so, it’s like this):
I accused the deer of being a vilder chayeh (wild animal), which changed nothing. The deer continued fressing. Nu, thought I, once upon a time, my cheder teacher called members of the class vilder chayes, and that too changed nothing; the paper airplanes kept flying above our heads!
The deer stared at me for a few seconds and turned back to fressing the shrubbery. Then, feeling insulted at being told to leave, he lifted his head and exclaimed, “Ich hobb deer teef ihn bawd (go take a bath)!” But when I began walking towards him, he ran away (ratz katzvee), takeh (indeed) like a deer!
I had planted a variety of vegetables during the spring season prior to the deer plague, but planting in the presence of half a dozen deer was an exercise in futility. However, although I was unhappy with the deers’ fressing, I had a certain respect for them. Fahrvoss (why)? you may ask. Iz azoy (it’s like this):
Deer are herbivores. Doss hayst (that means) that they feed on plants exclusively, while carnivores, chayess such as the fox, feed on other animals. There once were rabbits roaming in the area. Somehow, foxes entered the scene, and since a fox is a fox (and a carnivore), the rabbits disappeared.
Another morning, I noticed another deer. He and I “froze” and stared at one another for a few seconds. Usually, after making eye contact with a deer, it flees – but not this time. How was this meeting different from all other meetings on other days? you may ask. Iz azoy (it’s like this):
I began conversing with the deer – not in English and not in Spanish but in our mama loshon, Yiddish. The deer, which apparently wandered around in frum neighborhoods, responded in Yiddish as well – what else? The conversation went like this:
“Fress nit dee blumen (stop eating the flowers).”
“Zay hobehn a gutin tahm (they taste good).”
“Bist do ah gahnev (are you a thief)?”
“Fahrvoss? Yetst darfst do nit shnyden grozz (why? Now you don’t have to cut the grass).”
“Do bist ah chachem fuhn dee (you’re a wise guy).”
“Ah dahnk (thanks).”
“Voss iz dine nawmen (what is your name)?”
“Hirshel.”
“Vee ahlt bist do (how old are you)?”
“Vehr gedenkt (who remembers)?”
“Voo iz dine froy (where is your wife)”?
“Zee dahvent” (she’s praying)?
“Deer dahvenen? (deer pray)?”
“Ahvahdeh (absolutely). Nishmas kol chai…Ahless voss lebt bentcht Gott (It is written that all living things bless Hashem.”
Following this remarkable verbal exchange, Hirshel waved his tail, indicating that I should follow him, so I did – keeping 15 amos away. Soon we were at a nearby park, where several deer were moving their antlers sideways, which reminded me of the movements of some dahveners (praying people) – lehavdil.
Suddenly, members of the group lifted their heads, and before you could complete the Nishmas kol chai prayer, they scattered in all directions. No deer, No Hirshel. Geshvunden (they disappeared). I returned home, and it all was like a cholom (dream).
The following day, I examined the backyard. Lo and behold, there on the ground was a beautiful white antler! Nu, was it all a dream? Vair vais voss (who knows what)? I gave the antler to my ainikel (grandson), which he enjoyed, especially after I related the story of what occurred.
Sylvester: The Cat without a Hat
In addition to deer, there are other vilder chayess (wild animals) in the area, such as opposums, squirrels, and birds. The rabbits disappeared, and now the foxes have disappeared – a reminder of the Chad Gadyah in the Haggadah, where one thing consumes the other.
Recently, an additional chayeh appeared on the scene in the form of ah vilder kahts (a wild cat). We named the cat Sylvester, and he would occasionally appear next to the trash cans awaiting shirayim (leftovers). He soon made himself at home on our porch, snoozing, not, chass vesholom, on the floor but on a comfortable lounge chair. One morning I opened the door, and Sylvester was in a stupor, completely stretched out like a vacationer on the beach. I therefore began speaking loudly to see whether he was still functioning. Of course, I spoke to him in Yiddish, the language understood by animals in the neighborhood. The shmuz (discussion) went like this:
“Chapp zich oif (wake up)!
“Ich hawb deer ihn bawd (go take a bath)!”
“Shlof ehrgets ahndresh (sleep elsewhere).”
No response.
“Do bist ah foiler (you are lazy).”
“Voss vilst do fuhn ah kahts (what do you expect from a cat)?”
“Heet ah nahnder hoyz (go guard another house).”
“Yiden bnay rachmonim, richtig (Jews have compassion, correct)?”
“Ich hobb rachmonis oif dee shtool. Mine shtool shmekt fuhn dir (I have compassion on the chair, which has your odor)!”
“Ah chutzbeh fuhn ah mentch (the nerve of a human)!”
Greatly insulted, Sylvester jumped up and walked away with his head and tail held high. I imagined him holding a pipe in his mouth and shouting, “Ich bin tsurik (I have returned)!” And he did!
Araccoon – the Raccoon
A few months later, a raccoon decided to burrow a tunnel towards our house. The raccoon began digging close to an outer wall and proceeded to lengthen the large opening. The tunnel had an entrance, which I attempted to block with bricks and rocks. The following morning, I inspected the area, and lo and behold, the raccoon had moved every last brick! I again blocked the entrance, but it helped like walls block Mexican immigrants from entering America!
Suddenly the raccoon appeared and shouted, “Fahrvoss gibst meer tsoress (why are you troubling me? Why are you damaging my residence?”
Hairst a geshichteh (can you imagine such a thing)?!
Nu, go fight with a masked raccoon! So what to do? I gave him a section of the yard away from the house, and things have quieted down, so far.
Ah klal, to sum up, Hashem created an interesting array of creatures. We need to park our iPods and other finger-poking devices and open our eyes to observe the fascinating array of living things in our midst. Achieving such a goal will enable us to better appreciate the fabulous world of plants and animals created by the Ribono Shel Olam (G-d).
