Purim 5783

Purim 5783

Rabbi Hal Miller

(Reminder: It is traditional that on Purim we read "Purim Torah". These are fashioned in the same way as regular divrei Torah, but are humorous, nonsensical, and often just plain silly. Any "rulings" of law herein are expressly disclaimed as being jokes, not serious.... Oh, and bear in mind you're supposed to be a little schicker when you read it. --HM) Those of you who have been following my writings over the past twenty-some years are aware of the "Halachos of" series I put out for Purim each year. This year, our discussion topic is the halachos of Purim as seen through the eyes of a dog.

The Halachos of Purim, As I Understand Them. By Naomi (a Border Collie)

Human beings sometimes do some really strange things. Usually we manage to make excuses

that, to our own minds anyway, seem to justify all, regardless of how stretched those excuses may

be. Have you ever wondered how these acts might look to a dog? They don't understand the

roundabout quasi-logic we use in the justifications. They just ask, what are you doing?

As a dog watches us do things repeatedly, their wonder subsides and they chalk it up to a 'norm'

they just don't understand from their disinterested outsider point of observation. But once they get

used to things and get comfortable, we seem to "throw them a curve". Watch your dog (or your

neighbor's if you are not fortunate enough to have your own) this Purim. It won't be hard to read

their minds, and what you see there may be enough to convince you to reassess your behavior.

I share a house with Naomi, a border collie, which is widely regarded as one of the most

intelligent of dog breeds. I have asked her to step in as a guest presenter this year, hoping that

we can better understand the halachos of Purim by seeing them through a fresh pair of eyes.

Without further ado, Naomi.

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A lot goes on here that I don't have experience with. I like to think of life as a big game, but I

don't always understand all the rules. Usually with a bit of observation I can figure out what's going

on. Sometimes, though, confusion reigns.

For example, the theme of Purim seems to be loudness. On Shabbat and the other holidays,

human interactions are usually pretty controlled and relatively calm. Everyone goes to the

synagogue (I don't do that part) then they all get together to eat (I definitely participate in that part)

and sit around and talk, meaning I get petted and slipped all the crumbs or leftovers.

On Rosh Hashanah, everyone goes to the synagogue (I don't do that part) then they all get

together to eat (I definitely participate in that part) and sit around and talk, meaning I get petted

and slipped all the crumbs or leftovers.

On Yom Kippur, everyone goes to the synagogue (I don't do that part) but then they DON'T eat,

which means it is not my favorite holiday.

On Sukkot, my human builds an odd structure in the middle of my back yard, which used to scare

me (not any longer), then everyone goes to the synagogue (I don't do that part) then they all get

together to eat (I definitely participate in that part even though it's outside in the cold and rain) and

sit around and talk, meaning I get petted and slipped all the crumbs or leftovers.

On Pesach, everyone goes to the synagogue (I don't do that part) then they all get together to eat

(I definitely participate in that part) and sit around and talk, meaning I get petted and slipped all

the crumbs or leftovers. I don't get this matza thing, but it's still edible, sort of.

On Shavuot, everyone goes to the synagogue (I don't do that part) then they all get together to eat

(I definitely participate in that part) and sit around and talk, meaning I get petted and slipped all the

crumbs or leftovers. There's a wider variety of leftovers, so it's more interesting.

See a pattern here? I've learned that this pattern is in fact law in Judaism. Go to the synagogue,

then eat. I sleep during the synagogue portion (which I understand is not particularly uncommon in

some synagogues) and I'm ready to go when the eating part begins. Nice religion.

But then there's Purim.

There are similarities in that there's food everywhere on and off during the day. Not always the

same kind of food I see on other holidays, but you know the old expression, a dog experiences

the world by eating it. Or, eat first and ask questions later.

Things start off differently. During a normal week, we might get a visitor to the door every couple

of days, so although I bark and go nuts when a truck drives by or I see someone walking a dog,

I really get excited when someone comes to the door. On the day before Purim, we get more

traffic than the rest of the year combined. Nobody stays long, so I assume that's part of the law,

but they do leave behind a little bag containing stuff that I think (some of it anyway) is supposedly

food. Then they run back to their car. You're obviously not allowed to walk back to the car, but I

don't know why not.

The evening begins the same as other holidays. Everyone goes to the synagogue (I don't do that

part). It starts off calm but then things go haywire. Instead of black suits and hats, and fancy

dresses, the people walking by look like they ended up on the wrong side of a paintball war. I

hear they're called costumes, but it seems to me like they just put their fur on inside out. Why

that's a law is beyond me, but whatever. They stay at the synagogue longer because once they're

done with the sleeping portion, they read the megillah. What's a megillah? A scroll. What's a scroll?

I don't have a clue, but apparently they tell a story, same one every year. I hear it includes

something about food, so I guess that's okay.

Then they all get together to eat (I definitely participate in that part) and sit around and talk, meaning

I get petted and slipped all the crumbs or leftovers. So far, so good. But the law on Purim is that

everyone has to be VERY loud. Conversation must be done at the top of one's voice (I can hardly

hear myself bark). Nobody is to put anything down gently, it must be slammed down onto the table.

Much of the time, they don't sit at the table, just come by to graze (you won't catch me grazing, I'm

not a cow, and I prefer to gobble, so more like a turkey) then meander around shouting and laughing.

Certainly the law requires lots of laughter. I wondered how humans could turn that on and off so

easily--for that matter, I wonder how humans can laugh at all, as it doesn't seem to be in my genetic

makeup.

Speaking of makeup, the law not only permits men to use women's makeup on Purim, it apparently

requires it. Clearly, men were not made to do that, as when a woman does, it's fairly subtle, but these

guys go out of their way to do a bad job of it.

The next day, everyone goes to the synagogue (I don't do that part). It starts off calm but then things

go haywire. They stay at the synagogue longer because once they're done with the sleeping portion,

they read the megillah. Same story. Must not have understood it the previous night so they have to

do it again. Maybe they slept through it, although with all the noise I can't imagine how. Still includes

something about food, so again, still okay.

Then they all get together to eat again (I definitely participate in that part) and sit around and talk, meaning I get petted and slipped all the crumbs or leftovers. This time, though, it's even louder. Seems the main food item on Purim day comes out of bottles. Tastes pretty odd, if you ask me, but apparently that's the law. When people drink that stuff, they sure do strange things. I don't understand cause and effect very well, so I don't know if that liquid is to help recover from the dumb stuff or if it causes the dumb stuff. I do have a much bigger job to do on Purim than I do on other holidays. My cleanup responsibilities are typically four to five times more on Purim, and I have a lot of people suddenly lying down in my range whose faces need to be licked. Seems to make them even louder, as if that was possible. One of the other nice things about it is that this big meal tends to be earlier in the day than I normally eat, so there's time that way for a second "evening meal". Nothing wrong with that! Late that afternoon, there's often a parade of cars driving by and honking. That, of course, gives me permission to bark a whole lot. So does the big number of kids wandering around the street in packs. Since the law requires that I bark at each one, I'm pretty well worn out by the end of the day. I have to get in a couple naps, you know, rest enough to have enough energy to sleep well at night. It happens every year. You'd think I would get comfortable with the pattern, as mentioned above about other holidays, but this one is just too different. It makes Pesach look easy!