Dog Info

As we assign dogs the task of protecting human life in a time of terror, of serving in the defense of Israel, it is illuminating to see how dogs have been regarded throughout Jewish history.

First, to honor our Pups for Peace, the reason why terrorists can't win when faced by detecting dogs is explained by the Or Hayim (a Torah Commentator, Kabbalist and Talmudist, 1696-1743): "No animal overcomes a person unless he appears to the animal as another animal" (Shabbat 151b), because he has lost his "Tzelem Elokim," image of God.

Jacob, Moses, and David were all shepherds, people who cared for animals. The Talmud specifically states that Moses was chosen for his mission because of his skill in caring for animals. "The Holy One, Blessed Be He, said 'Since you are merciful to the flock of a human being, you shall be the shepherd of My flock, Israel.'" Likewise Rebekah was chosen as a wife for Isaac because of her kindness to animals. When Abraham's servant asked for water for himself, she volunteered to water his camels as well, and thereby proved herself a worthy wife.

Although the Torah prohibits causing pain to animals, and even prohibits sitting down for a meal until one's animals have been fed, there is, unfortunately, a Jewish antipathy to dogs that also reaches far into the past, as Rabbi Judah Elijah Schochet points out in Animal Life in Jewish Tradition (KTAV, 1984):

"The dog is one of the few animals almost invariably spoken of in negative and derogatory terms [in Jewish Scripture]. There apparently was little personal relationship between biblical man and the dog.. Dogs are described as being noisy [Psalms 59:7-14], greedy [Isaiah 56:11], stupid [Isaiah 56:10], filthy [Proverbs 26:11].... The term "dog" is applied as an insult to humans [I Kings 22:38]. Furthermore, "dog" appears to have been a derogatory designation for male prostitutes [Deuteronomy 23:19]."

Schochet argues that this treatment is a result of the position in which biblical man found himself regarding the dog in particular and animals in general. Dogs were worshipped by Egyptians and Caananites, as were other animals. It is one of the triumphs of Torah that it made clear to biblical man that God and God alone was worthy of worship, and that man's role was to be a respectful steward over creation, including animals. The exultation of the dog was incompatible with this concern.

On the other hand, Midrash Tanchumah refutes Schochet's statement that there was little relationship between man and dog. The dog actually plays a prominent role in Jewish lore. This Midrash relates that when the Jews passed through the Red Sea and the Egyptians were drowned, they didn't believe the Egyptians were dead. They thought perhaps they escaped on the other side. So God performed a miracle and had the bodies thrown out of the water onto the shore where the Jews were. The Midrash then relates: "Each Jew took his dog, and went to the body of an Egyptian, putting his foot on the Egyptians throat. He then said to his dog, 'Eat the hand that enslaved me!'" Thus, the Jews had dogs, and they left in the Exodus along with the Jews.

The Hebrew word for dog, kelev, can be translated as "close to the heart" - a reference to the loyalty and companionship dogs often have to their masters. Here are some more canine references: - Jewish tradition reports that dogs can be vicious; the Talmud says that dogs used to help guard Israel's Northern border.
- The Sages say that dogs (at least of ancient times) possessed a sixth sense, knowing even when the "angel of death" had come into town.
- There are many references in the Prophets of people comparing themselves to a "dead dog" - indicating a lowly individual, unworthy of special attention.

Clearly, dogs have been acknowledged as part of Jewish history ever since their defining moment of leaving Egypt with their masters. In Exodus (11:4-7), God tells Moses:

"Around midnight, I will go out in the midst of Egypt. Every first born in Egypt will die, from the first born of Paroh sitting on his throne, to the first born of the slave girl behind the millstones, plus every first born animal. There will be a great cry of anguish throughout all Egypt. Never before has there been anything like it, and never again will there be the like. But among the Bnai Yisroel, a dog will not even sharpen its tongue at man or animal. You will then realize that G-d is making a miraculous distinction between Egypt and Israel."

Midrash states that just before the Angel of Death descended, God instructed the dogs living among the Hebrews to be silent. The dogs complied with loving obedience. God was so pleased that He told them that because they had obeyed with such love, He would reward them.

Like Sherlock Holmes making much of the dog that did not bark during the night, Rashi (the pre-eminent French Torah commentator of the 11th century) says these verses are one way in which God assures us that the guilty ultimately receive their punishment, just as the righteous receive their reward. Because the dogs were silent during the Exodus from Egypt, allowing the Jews to leave unhindered, the dog is forever singled out for reward throughout the generations for its show of restraint on that terrible night: "People of holiness shall you be to Me; you shall not eat flesh of an animal that was torn in the field; to the dog shall you throw it" (Exodus, 22:30-31).

Meat torn from a live animal, rather than slaughtered according to Jewish law, is non-kosher and unfit for Jewish consumption. But Jews are commanded to give this meat to their dogs. Rashi attributes this command to the gratitude we must show to the dog, because God does not let any good deed go unrewarded. Thus, this command contains an ethical teaching as well. Rashi says that if the Almighty rewards such actions from animals, certainly He will reward human actions.

As is common in the Torah, there is more than one lesson here: this verse in Exodus is quickly followed by one which states: "Do not utter a false report." What's the connection? In Jewish tradition, a barking and yapping dog is symbolic of one who speaks "loshon hara" (gossip) about others. The Talmud says the juxtaposition of the two verses is not accidental. He who utters a "false report" (even gossip that may in fact be "true") has besmirched the gift of speech, and belongs in the company of annoying, barking dogs.

During the Rabbinic period (200-500 C.E.), when animal worship was more a thing of the past and the Sages were free to re-mythologize animals, moral and ethical lessons were derived from the animal kingdom in general and the dog in particular. One example:
"The Jerusalem Talmud [Schochet writes] cites as one of Rabbi Meir's fables the story of a dog who observed a serpent poisoning the curdled milk of its master. The dog barked frantically, but to no avail, as its master failed to heed its warnings and set out to partake of the milk. The desperate dog hastened to consume the food itself, thereby dying an agonizing death while saving the lives of its master and his fellow shepherds. The grateful shepherds buried the faithful dog with funerary honors and erected a monument to its memory."

Another story from tradition: Reb Abbahu went to Ceasarea and happened to visit a certain man who seated a dog next to Reb Abbahu. When he asked his host, "Do I deserve such humiliation?" the host replied: My master, I happen to be the one who owes the dog much gratitude: slave traders once came into the city, and when one of them sought to rape my wife, the dog saved her by springing upon him and biting off his testes.

So Talmud anticipates "Greyfriar's Bobby" and "A Dog of Flanders" by 1,500 years. This positive tone becomes a running thread through writings of medieval commentators, Kabbalists, and others. However, one of the tenderest depictions of the dog and its bond to humanity again comes from the Sages. In an elaboration of the book of Genesis called Genesis Rabba (22:12) they deal with the apparently ignominious mark of Cain, bestowed after Cain kills Abel and is condemned to lonely exile. Since the mark of Cain is never described in Torah, it leaves the Sages free to speculate as to its nature. The Talmudic figure Rav does just this, suggesting that the mark was actually a dog that God gave to Cain to keep him company in his solitude.

After Talmudic times, we sadly swing back to the negative. From the Crusades to the Pogroms to the Holocaust, the relationship between Jews and dogs often was not a happy one as Jews were set upon by their persecutors. Happily, the natural connection between dogs and humans has prevailed, bringing us to the present time, when observant Jews must find their way through the complexities of kashrut for the beloved pets who share their lives. Jewish law requires an absolute separation of the pots, pans, dishes and utensils used for meat and for dairy. Homes in which the dietary laws of kashrut are kept thus maintain separate meat and dairy sections. Some have solved the problem of keeping kosher while having a dog by maintaining three sections: meat, dairy and--on a counter and shelf never used for the preparation of human foodÑcanine. By doing this, the non-kosher dog food can't contaminate the rest of the kitchen as a pet owner fulfills the mitzvah of feeding his or her beloved friend non-kosher meat.

Which brings us back to the ancient debt we have to the dogs among us for their ancestors' help in attaining our freedom. Pups for Peace brings the history of dogs and the children of Israel full circle as our trained Pups take their place as frontline defenders of Jewish lives, freeing Israelis from the fear of terror as they go about their daily lives. Once again, they have earned our gratitude forever.

Click here to read more about the background of Pups for Peace.