The Curious Incident of My Dog & Two Bacon-Wrapped Fillets

“I have found that when you are deeply troubled, there are things you get from the silent devoted companionship of a dog that you can get from no other source.” —Doris Day

At the end of September, back when my grandfather was still alive and heart surgery was the furthest thing from my mind, I was dating a real-estate broker. He was short, balding and charming in the way that nerdy Jewish men learn to be in elementary school so gentiles do not steal their matzah balls at lunch.

Truth be told I have seen a ton of naked Jewish dudes, though mostly at summer camp in my youth and rarely in my dating life. My very first boyfriend was Jewish and a meschugener at that. It is possible that he ruined Jewish men for me, though I hold hope that somewhere out there is a good and kind one who will find me just as soon as he escapes the clutches of his mother.

In any case, whether I find love with a Jew or shagetz is of no consequence to me. What is of consequence, however, is that I find love with a mensch and not a shmendrik.

In what is now the shortest date I have ever had, my dog and I entered the home of the short, balding, charming, Jewish real-estate broker. The bacon-wrapped fillets he planned to cook for dinner sat on the very edge of his kitchen counter. Before I even took my coat off, those bacon-wrapped fillets were in the stomach of my dog.

We laughed. The placement was precarious, he admitted. My dog behaved badly, I acquiesced. We discussed what kind of takeout we might want to order before he informed me that the bacon on the fillets was held in place with metal skewers.

Hello, emergency vet.

My date did not offer to come with. Instead he ate Chick-Fil-A, got stoned, and sent me a text to tell me about it while I decided whether to induce vomiting in my dog or allow the skewers to enter his intestines. No decision felt like a good one and I agonized for hours about what to do.

In the end my dog vomited the skewers without any damage to his esophagus and I was overwhelmed by how alone I felt. Per guidance from the spiritual healer I saw on Maui earlier this year, I have considered what I want and need to feel in relationship: held, supported, respected and valued.

Instead I felt dropped, abandoned, disregarded and rejected.

I called the next day to give him the old break-up schpiel, no kvetching about it.

And that is the curious incident of my dog and two bacon-wrapped filets.

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