How My Grumpy Neighbor Prefers to Spend His Time with Dogs Instead of People
The older I get, the more I'm inclined to agree
Isak first came to know dogs when he found a stray German Shepherd on the streets of the small Wisconsin town where he grew up. The dog had been abandoned because it was dying of distemper.
Eight year old Isak took the dog in. He grew up in poverty and lived in the kind of place where you could hide a dying dog without anyone noticing. For three days, he laid with that poor animal providing comfort in the dog’s final moments.
In return, dogs have watched out for Isak ever since.
The dancing dog walker
Today, at 70+ years old, dogs remain the focal point of Isak’s life. Even though he grumbles about everything else, he loves all dogs with a sincere intensity. Today, you’ll see him walking through town, always leading a dog, sometimes multiple dogs on retractable leashes.
When the dogs start to act up, run or play, Isak begins to dance. He spins the retractable leashes over his head, and twirls so that the dogs can have as much freedom as possible without getting tangled into a knot. He dances like he’s listening to music. He resembles a blade of swamp grass bouncing on the wind. It seems like chaos when you watch, but invariably the dogs settle down and the walk resumes.
No matter how many dogs Isak walks, he never seems to get tangled up.
Isak’s Russian cavalry jacket
When we first got our puppy three years ago, Isak was the first one to notice. I’d seen him before that, of course, but he’d been a fixture in our city like a road sign or a lamp post.
He always walked the streets wearing an ankle length wool jacket. He told me it’s a Russian cavalry jacket from World War I. On a walk, he showed me how you could button up the leg flaps to make it easier to ride a horse.
He’d found the jacket stuffed into a wall on a job site years ago. He’d put it on, found it fit perfectly, and decided to take it. Naturally, that’s what you do with something you find stuffed into a wall.
Isak is friends with my dog
Isak never introduced himself to me, he introduced himself to my dog. He came running over and started talking to my dog, then turned to me and asked the dog’s name.
“Kuzo,” I said.
“He’s a great dog! He’s a great dog!” Then Isak produced some bits of chicken from his pocket. “I always carry bits of chicken,” he said.
He got us a prong collar for Kuzo. “It’s not cruel,” he said. “The cruel thing is letting a dog get free of a leash where it runs into traffic and gets run over. I’ve seen that.” His eyes started to tear up. “Once he gets used to the collar, he won’t pull against it. The only humane thing is to properly train your dog.”
I was skeptical that my wife would allow the prong collar, but Kuzo had already gotten big enough that he’d pulled the girls down a few times. “It seems like a good idea,” she admitted.
Walking with Isak
It got so that I started taking regular walks with Isak. Isak had come into possession of a dog that’s part wolf. He said he never once picked a dog, they always came to him.
Something about Isak owning a wolf dog seemed appropriate, like this was the pinnacle of Isak’s career. The wolf dog had come to him because he’d earned it. I get the sense that this might be Isak’s last dog.
Her name is Celeste. She’s the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen. She’s possessed of a terrifying intelligence. Sometimes I get the sense that something is watching me, and I turn to see Celeste a quarter mile away. When she walks towards you it’s hypnotic. Her legs churn the ground, but her head stays stable and seems to float in your direction.
It’s inescapable. It’s captivating.
How a dog loves a man
Celeste loves Isak with passion. When she plays, it’s rougher than when you play with a dog. When she gives you a love nip, it’s about 20% too hard. Her love nips approach serious. Then you look in her eyes and you get a sense of what she’s capable of.
Her love nips are nowhere near serious to her. You just need to realign your perspective and have some respect for what you’re dealing with. It’s humbling to be in her presence.
Celeste is a sacred animal. It’s a privilege to be near her.
Celeste will pester Isak. She’ll nip him and rip his shirt.
“Darn you Celeste! This was a brand new shirt!”
Celeste just smiles and looks at him with adoration. He’s shown me the white scars on his fingers where she’s accidentally pierced his flesh to the bone. Celeste is serious about her love.
At first she never let Isak out of her sight, but Isak says now she’s getting better. Now she lets him leave the house and walk to the end of the block and back before she starts to get upset. Maybe in another year, he’ll be able to go two blocks.
The German Shepherd that saved Isak’s life
Isak told me about another thing that happened when he was young. He’d been running home from school when he fell in the river. “I remember it,” he said, “because I was wearing my good shoes and I wasn’t supposed to be wearing them. I knew I was going to get in trouble for that.”
The stretch of river where he fell was perilous. The current grabbed him and threatened to pull him under.
He’d been on his way home with his brothers and their German Shepherd. The German Shepherd had been running up and down between the two groups to make sure they were all okay. Dogs are like that.
The dog came out of the woods the moment Isak fell into the river. Without hesitation, it scrambled down to the shore and caught Isak in its jaws. Isak came sputtering out of the current.
The German Shepherd saw he was okay, nodded, then turned around to check on the other boys. Keeping those kids alive must have been a full-time job for that animal.
Some part of me thinks that German Shepherd was connected to the one Isak had escorted to the afterlife. Maybe Celeste is too.
The diabetic dog
Isak had another dog with diabetes. The insulin cost them $150 a month. Isak and his wife live in a run down apartment and they clearly don’t have the money to spare on a diabetic dog. Yet, month after month, that was the first expense that got listed on their budget.
Last summer, the dog finally passed. I was sitting in my backyard when Isak emerged from the bushes. He’s always emerging from the bushes. He was grumpy and loud and by now I’ve learned to recognize that means he’s holding back tears.
“We’re going to drink a bottle of wine and talk about what a great dog we had,” he said. “I don’t believe in being sad. I just thought I’d let you know.”
So later, I stopped by to celebrate with them.
The prophet disguised as a beggar
Even my wife has developed an affection for Isak. At the end of June, she mentioned she hadn’t seen him for a few days, and she began to worry. Then we crossed paths with him at the park. He’d been doing his walks early in the morning and late at night to avoid the heat.
Instantly he started swearing, then apologized for swearing in front of our daughters, then started swearing again because he can’t help it.
Normally, my wife doesn’t have patience for people who grumble and curse and seem to complain about everything. However, she recognizes that if Isak had to throw himself into traffic to save our dog, he’d do it without thinking — for the kids too. That won her over.
“It’s like the stories you hear isn’t it?” she asked.
“What stories?”
“The stories about the homeless beggar who turns out to be something magical.”
I laughed. “If there’s one of those in our town, it must be Isak.” Then I thought about how it’s possible to perceive the infinite universe if you take the time to glance into the eyes of his wolf-dog and my laughter turned into a shiver.
“When my time comes…”
I asked Isak if he saved anything from all his dogs. We were out at the tennis courts. Celeste and Kuzo were running and tumbling with each other. Celeste is built to run a hundred miles a day. She’s too much for my dog, but Kuzo gives it the old college try.
“I keep their collars,” Isak said. “When my time comes, I’m going to grab up all those collars in my hand, reach up to the sky, let them jingle, and say, ‘Come and get me!’”
I liked the image of all those dogs running down from the heavens to be reunited with Isak. As Isak told me this story, I glanced over at Celeste. She was listening.
Perhaps it was my imagination, but she seemed to give a little nod as if to confirm Isak’s vision was destined to become a reality. We all know that dogs are angels, it was nice to think that they have a plan for Isak.
Then Celeste turned away and sprinted over to Kuzo, and the two of them got on with their carefree play.
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I finally know what to do with my little collection of collars! What a beautifully written article - especially poignant now, in this cruel world we live in, except for the magical gift of dogs and souls like Isak. Thank you for this. It made a lovely start to my day.
Perfect story. People in our village know us as the walkers. If we are ever without our dogs, they’ll say they hardly recognize us.