The Israelis and Arabs finally realized that if they continued fighting, they would someday end up destroying the world. So they sat down and decided to settle the whole dispute with a dogfight. The negotiators agreed that each country would take five years to develop the best fighting dog they could. The dog that won the fight would earn its country the right to rule the disputed areas. The losing side would have to lay down its arms.

The Arabs found the biggest, meanest Dobermans and Rottweilers in the world. They bred them together and then crossed their offspring with the meanest Siberian wolves. They selected only the biggest, strongest puppy from each litter, killed all the other puppies and fed them the best food. They used steroids and trainers in their quest for the perfect killing machine.

After the five years were up, they had a dog that needed iron prison bars on its cage. Only the trainers could handle this beast. When the day of the big fight arrived, the Israelis showed up with a strange animal. It was a nine-foot-long Dachshund.

Everyone felt sorry for the Israelis. No one else thought this weird animal stood a chance against the growling beast in the Arab camp. The bookies predicted the Arabs would win in less than a minute. The cages were opened. The Dachshund waddled toward the center of the ring.

The Arab dog leapt from his cage and charged the giant wiener-dog. As he got to within an inch of the Israeli dog, the Dachshund opened its jaws and swallowed the Arab beast in one bite. There was nothing left but a small bit of fur from the killer dog’s tail.

The Arabs approached the Israelis, shaking their heads in disbelief. ‘We do not understand,’ said their leader. ‘Our top scientists and breeders worked for five years with the meanest, biggest Dobermans and Rottweilers. They developed a killing machine.’
‘Really?’ the Israeli General replied. ‘For five years, we’ve had a team of Jewish plastic surgeons in Beverly Hills working to make an alligator look like a Dachshund.’

I just got back from davening Musaf…and boy, are my arms tired.

Peace and wisdom to one and all.

My son converted when he was 17 by choice.