Today–after we found this great sign in the park– my very cute little dog taught herself a new trick. We were in the park for her morning walk and she dropped her ball. We happened to be on a hill so the ball rolled down. Zoe looked at the ball, cocked her head, then leapt into the air and chased it. I’ll admit this is not such a new trick. But wait: She got the ball, brought it to the top of the hill again, and then chased it. For minutes she threw her own ball and ran after it. I have video. I think I owe filmakers more credit because even with something so clever and cute it is amazing how long minutes really are.
I just finished Natasha, by David Bezmozgis. I thought it a simple hard sweet book of stories about a family of Russian Jews who immigrate to Toronto, told by their young son Mark, as he grows up. In the first story Mark is 7, maybe 8. He falls in love with another families little dog and takes her for walks. He lets the dog off her lease. I worried about Zoe for a week.
In the last story, Mark is closer to 18. He is helping his grandfather earn a spot in a building of widows and widowers–Holocaust survivors–by attending the building’s small synagogue. The rabbi has the landlord’s ear, and he has had a hard time gathering enough men for a minyan. Mark’s attendance helps his grandfather’s prospects.
Anyway, it is in this last story that I found my favorite line. It belongs to the happy old Jew– whom the build shuns–because they suspect him of being gay. He has just lost his roommate or partner or lover or friend–with whom he lived–and on this occasion the many who want the apartment they shared suggest he should be told to go. The apartment was not in his name, they say, they disserve the apartment more, he should be out. But this old man is not worried, not bothered at all. Because, “For him, the world held neither mission nor meaning, only the possibility of joy.”
This afternoon Zoe dug her ball out of the corner of the couch and looked at me longingly. I kept typing. I had a word count to reach. She tried a bark. Then she took her ball to the top of the stairs, and just like she had on the hill at the park, she threw the ball down the stairs herself.