Woodlawn Jerome

Woodlawn Jerome 

A Cautionary Tale
By Arlene Levin  (c) 2019

                                                               
New York City:  1967
Michael and I were a little apprehensive as we got off the elevator.  Our friend John had said, "I'm not going to tell you but let's just say, things are a little different at Richard's these days."  Tauntingly he continued.  "You'll see when you get there."  

Richard lived on the upper westside in a huge 1920's era apartment overlooking the park.    On our arrival greetings were minimal as Richard quickly ushered us down the long apartment entranceway.  As we reached the living room we passed another hallway.  There, behind a little wooden kiddie gate sat "Woodlawn Jerome" the largest German Shepard I'd ever seen.  His head was well above the gate.  His barking was deafening.  Jerome's dark menacing eyes followed us as we scurried to the relative safety of the living room. 

Another gate was put across the living room entrance.  Then Richard opened the gate restraining the dog.  Jerome burst forth, running the long entrance way and then down the other hallway that led past the bedrooms to the kitchen.  We huddled as Richard assured us we were safe.  Jerome continued to check us out from behind the kiddie gate.  Eventually, sure we presented no threat, Jerome settled down as we all settled in the living room.  

In a comforting tone Richard said, "Jerome greets all visitors the same way.  Don't take it personally.  And don't worry, Jerome never goes over or through the fence.  You are perfectly safe".  I looked at the flimsy kiddie gate.  I looked at Jerome.  I looked at Richard.  And then our host said with a smile, "Really, you're safe.  Jerome really is a sweetheart."

Native Chicagoans, at this time Michael and I were living in Amherst, Massachusetts .  We came into New York for visits and to escape the small college town we found ourselves in as Michael worked on his Masters Degree and I taught elementary school.  We stayed with Richard many times but when he got Jerome things became a little more complicated. 

If we were alone and Jerome was free to wander the hallways, we would be in the living room, safe.  For us to move from one room to another Jerome had to be distracted.  There was a plan.  Dog treats were stashed in the living room.  You simply threw a treat down one of the two hallways of this "L" shaped apartment and closed a door or secured a gate to keep Jerome out.  

To leave was a little more challenging.  Once again Jerome had to be distracted.  From the living room we would throw a doggie treat down the shorter hallway leading to the kitchen.  There wasn't enough time to actually unlock the living room gate so Michael had to hop over the baby gate and close the hallway door before Jerome got back.  It never happened, but if his pants got caught on the gate or if he tripped we could be in serious trouble!

Then came the day we were alone with Jerome.  The dog behaved differently.  He didn't bark.   Behind his kiddie gate he paced the hall non-stop.  It became obvious, this dog needed to go out.  We had walked with Richard and Jerome on a number of occasions.  At those times we were talked into getting on the small wood paneled elevator with 110 lbs of unpredictable dog.

"Don't worry.  Jerome loves to go on walks" was Richard's comment.
"On these walks he's a different dog."  Much to our surprise, Jerome was quiet and well behaved.   Yes, he was a different dog when he walked outside WITH RICHARD.  We didn't know how Jerome would be with us.

It was difficult to see the dog in pain so we decided to take a big chance.    We knew where his leash was.  We got it.  When Jerome saw the leash he knew what was going to happen.  Unfortunately we didn't.  Honestly, I don't remember exactly how Michael got the choke chain over Jerome's huge head.   With the leash secured, Jerome led us down the long hall to the front door.  

The next challenge was the elevator.  Michael and I looked at each other terrified.  There was the shared vision of the 3 of us in that small elevator.  What if Jerome turned "unpredictable"? The scary possibilities were endless. 

The elevator door opened.  Thank goodness it was empty.  Going down, the elevator stopped only once.  As the door opened a stylish- well-dressed older woman took one look at Jerome and said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Oh...you go ahead".

We got to the main floor.  The lobby was huge in this old well-worn  art deco apartment building.  The doorman knew Jerome and gave us a knowing glance.  Jerome knew the doorman but no pleasantries were exchanged.  Jerome was focused on his "mission".

In a flash we were out of the lobby, on to the sidewalk and across the street to the park.  Almost immediately Jerome's "business "was done.  Not wanting to push our luck, we headed back to the relative safety of Richard's.  

We rode an empty elevator back up to the apartment, took off Jerome's leash, threw a doggie treat down the hall to the kitchen and put up the kiddie gate.  Exhausted we collapsed into the safety and comfort of the living room.  Mission accomplished.

Richard really loved that dog and it was obvious to see that Jerome really loved Richard.  Watering the plants was a game they played.  Armed with a spray bottle Richard entered the living room.  Removing the gate he called "Jerome come".  

Michael and I sat motionless on the couch as the huge German Shepard scampered happily into the room.    Much to Jerome's delight and to our gales of laughter, Richard continued to alternate between watering the plants and hitting Jerome squarely in the face with mists of water the dog tried to catch in his mouth.  This went on until both the plants and Jerome were dripping wet.  With a big smile Richard turned to us and said, "See, Jerome is really just a big puppy".

Was there a change in Jerome's attitude toward us?  Not really, but we had a new appreciation of this big old dog.  We weren't as afraid but we were still very very careful. 

Some dogs you remember

Some dogs you never forget.