SAmpLE:

STRAY DOG IN THE MANGER: A Christmas FABLE

Chapter 1: Mutt

“Out of the way, mutt!”

            “Beat it, cur!”

            “Mangy mongrel!”

            The hollering got louder and louder. 

            A stone hit Lev's back leg and he let out a yelp. He dashed past the food vendors, but they kept on yelling at him. He scrambled around the corner into a narrow alley and crouched there, panting hard. 

            All Lev had to show for his trouble was a gristly bone the butcher had left lying around. Not much, but as a stray dog, he knew that any scrap is better than nothing.

            Lev backed into the shadows with the bone gripped tight in his jaws. He flashed on a memory of Leader, the old, white-muzzled dog who had taught Lev everything he knew.

  “A full stomach,” Leader preached. “That’s all a dog needs in this world to be happy.” 

            “A full stomach!” Lev woofed to himself. He started crunching on the bone. 

            Lev was a tough, feisty street dog who survived on his own in the backways of Beth-lehem. He knew how to fight and would bite a human if he felt in danger.

            As Lev sat there, his nose sniffed in the sharp, mingled scents of the city streets. Dusty earth. Rat smell. Dog pack smell. Bread baking in ovens. Laundry boiling in vats. Rotten vegetable peels. Fish-heads. Soap. Wine. Honey.

            It all smelled good to Lev. This was the life he knew. He had been born, just a year ago, into a wild dog pack on the outskirts of town. Lev liked running with the pack, but being on his own was better. He could sneak into places and steal food more easily. He did not have to share what he stole. 

            When Lev was little, hunger felt like a giant twisting pain in his stomach every day. He could see hunger now in the eyes of the puppy who came scrambling down the alley towards him. Lev narrowed his eyes. The pup was so famished he was trembling. He stopped in front of Lev and lowered his head to show respect.

            “All I want is just one lick,” Little Dog whimpered. “I haven’t eaten for days, I’m starving!” 

            Lev growled deep in his throat, a warning.

            “You remember me,” Little Dog went on. “We peed on the same post together over by the meat pie seller’s wagon.” 

            Lev snapped his jaws. Little Dog gave out a scared rowwff and beat it around a corner. Lev started gnawing again on the bone. He felt that Leader would have been proud of him. 

Leader taught his pack, “The rule of the streets says look out for yourself and nobody else.”

            That is just what he had done. He felt sorry for the starving dog. Still, a rule was a rule, and he wasn’t about to be the one to go hungry if he could help it.  

Lev cracked the bone between his teeth and started licking out the marrow. When he was done, though, he felt somehow hungrier than before he had eaten. It wasn’t a twisting pain hunger, or a burning in the belly hunger. It was something new, something that made Lev want to prowl the streets and poke his nose into every corner until he found what he was looking for. But what was it?

  Lev didn’t know.

Chapter 2: The House of Bread

            Towards evening, Lev frisked his way through the part of Beth-lehem where the wealthy people lived. On the way he saw streets thick with townspeople, travelers and Roman soldiers. People jolted by on donkeys and in carts, on horseback, on foot. Most wore the same plain robes and tunics, but Lev also caught sight of strange clothing from afar, with fabrics in bright colors. He heard the music of bracelets jingling, of flutes and tambourines.

            “What’s going on?” Lev asked a roustabout dog he knew named Nosey. Nosey got his name from always nosing through trash for food.

            Nosey stopped for a minute and ran his tongue thoughtfully over his black nose.

            “Lots of people,” he said, looking around, “coming and going and going and coming.”

            Lev rolled his eyes. “I know that! What are they doing here?”

            Nosey considered for a moment, licking his nose again. “I heard a two-leg in a black robe say that Beth-lehem means the house of bread.”

            “So?”

            “Maybe they are looking for this big house of bread where they can eat all they want forever.”

            Lev laughed by letting out a few short barks, then bid good-bye to Nosey and trotted off on his own. Nosey was funny! His idea of human life was that people roamed around all day just like dogs, looking for food or a place to pee or bed down. Well, thought Lev, most of the humans he watched did always seem to be looking for something as they traveled the streets of Beth-lehem.   

Lev trotted through the streets alone, avoiding the other scavenging dogs. No deep belly hunger was driving him, but Lev felt this other hunger growing stronger inside. It was a scary feeling, like a scorching pain, hot as the stones on the gravel path at midday. Scraps and a gulp of water did not make it go away. He ran, fast, loping and dodging his way through the back alleys. 

            People jumped out of his way as he ran. He heard a mother yell, “Mad dog!”  That pleased Lev because it made him feel fierce. He ran faster, towards the outskirts of the town called the House of Bread.    

Chapter 3: Leader

Lev stopped to rest. The foothills outside Beth-lehem were as far as he usually went nowadays. Beyond lay the hunting grounds of the packs. He used to belong there and knew all the ins and outs of the place by heart. There Lev had learned how to sneak behind a farmer's hut and snap up scraps or steal an egg from under a hen. He'd mastered how to wag his tail humbly by a shepherd’s campfire until the man’s back was turned, then dash off with the shepherd’s supper between his teeth.

Lev circled through the olive groves. He lifted his nose in the air a few times to catch the scent, then made his way unerringly to where Leader was holding court. No one knew how old Leader was, but there he stood, proud and still strong, surrounded by a batch of young pups. They pushed close together in the pack, all eager to listen to what the grizzled old dog had to say. Their ribs showed and they gazed at him, taking in every word, because they knew that in the wilds they needed strength in numbers. Without Leader, many of them would die of starvation.

            “A pack of your own,” Leader growled, “That’s what a dog needs in this world to be happy.”

            "I thought you said all a dog needs to be happy is a full stomach," Lev joked from the back of the pack. 

            None of the pups laughed. They were afraid of Leader.

            “Same thing,” said Leader easily. “Hard to have one without the other.” He turned to the pups. “Time to bed down, then up in a few hours to hunt when the moon is high.”

As the pack settled down, with some scuffling and nipping, Leader trotted over to where Lev stood. They touched noses amicably. “I knew you’d be back,” Leader said.

  “I’m not, but I do want your advice.”

 “Oho,” said Leader. “You leave my pack but still think I will help you?”

Lev cocked his head. He knew if there was anything that Leader liked better than food it was playing the role of the Wise Old Dog.

  “Let me guess,” mused Leader, scratching at himself with his rear leg. “You’re tired of scrounging in the dumps with those scraggly town curs. You want my advice on how to be Top Dog of your own pack.”

  “Some days I eat, some days I don’t, but I run alone. That is not my question.”

  “Well then,” said Leader, “it must be love. You need a pretty mate and your own pups.”

  “I don’t know what love is,” said Lev. “That is not my question.”

  “Well then,” said Leader. He bit at a flea and listened.

  “What is the hunger inside the hunger?” asked Lev.

As Leader considered this in silence, both dogs started to trot along together, circling the camp to make sure everything was secure.

“The hunger inside the hunger,” Leader repeated.

Lev’s voice came out low and growly, because talking about the hunger was not easy for him. 

 “Even after I eat, some days I feel a terrible hunger. Like a cut in the paw, only deep inside, and nothing makes it go away. Tell me what to do to send this hunger away.”

They stopped at the edge of their camp as the moon started to rise in the sky.

  “Follow the rules,” said Leader. “Look out for yourself and take what you can, when you can. Show no dog your pity. Pity means weakness and weakness means hunger.”

 “I have learned these lessons from you already, like those young pups back there.”

  “You did not listen when I said you needed a pack, a place where you belong.”

Lev thought for a little while, and finally asked, “Have you ever felt this hunger within the hunger?”

  “Why would I, when I have a full belly and my own tribe and my own bed? Go find somewhere to lay your head each night. That will take care of your hunger.”

Leader must be right, thought Lev. That was what he needed — a place of his own. 

Behind them, one of the young pups stirred and whined in his dream. Lev watched as a flash of moonlight lit up the olive grove and turned Leader’s grizzled head silver. 

  “Another piece of advice,” said Leader matter-of-factly. “Don’t come back. Ever.  I don't want you giving these youngsters ideas about breaking away.”

Lev took one last look around the silent camp, then turned and loped away into the darkness, alone.

Chapter 4: A Room at the Inn

Lev headed back to Beth-lehem. He broke into an easy run, feeling better because he was sure his hunger was going to go away soon. The moon rose high and the whole sky seemed to light up.

When he reached town, Lev threaded his way through groups of travelers planted in the middle of the roads, people pushing their way into inns and taverns, humans everywhere! Sweet smells, sweat smells, rancid smells. He heard loud voices, children’s cries, shouts, singing, curses. Lev had to move fast to avoid the occasional kick from a dusty sandal, or a child’s hand reaching down to pull his tail.

  “Too much commotion,” woofed Nosey, who had holed up in an alley to stay out of the way. He was lying on his side and panting hard.

  “What happened to you?”

 “Hawker,” said Nosey. He didn’t need to say anything more. ‘Hawker’ to any dog plainly meant: ‘I tried to steal from a food hawker and paid the price.’ In this case the price was sore ribs where the hawker had planted his boot. 

  “Where are you going?” he asked Lev.

  “I need a bed, a bed of my own.”

Nosey laughed until his ribs hurt too much and he had to stop. “Just ask for a room at the Inn,” he wheezed. 

Lev growled angrily and Nosey shut up. Then Lev gave Nosey a smile. “Hey, thanks!” he woofed. 

“Sheesh!” Nosey thought, licking his nose as Lev trotted off and disappeared into the crowd. “What’s up with him?” 

Lev pushed ahead, ducking and dodging in between human legs. Nosey had given him an idea. Beth-lehem was so crowded, full to bursting with the travelers and their families and pack animals. Lev knew he would never find a quiet spot of his own. Even the places he usually went to had been full up for the past several days. Not that Lev was afraid of a fight to claim his own. Many a night he had turfed another dog out of a space he fancied, a warm patch behind the dump, or a comfortable spot in one of the dry ravines.

But now Lev wanted something more — and he had an idea of where to get it.