PETER THE SHEEPDOG

On the road to Bethlehem, Mary and Joseph had not for the first time looked in vain for an inn. This evening, they feared that once more they would have to spend the night outdoors. When it was already growing dark Joseph detected a small dwelling that showed no light at all. Hurrying to reach it they found that no people lived there: it was a sheep pen! Well, surely it would be warm inside, and they would have a roof over their heads!

Only, Joseph and Mary had not reckoned with Peter, the sheepdog. During the day Peter helped the shepherds to drive the sheep to pasture and at night he guarded the sheep, that they would be safe from thieves or other villains. As the dog caught the smell of people approaching he sprang up, rattling his chain, growling and beginning to bark at the strangers. He wanted to say: ‘Take care, or you will have to deal with me. Do not come near: I am standing guard.’ As Joseph heard his furious baying he turned to go back, shrugging his shoulders dejectedly. ‘Nothing to be done’, he said to Mary, ‘this guardian will even be less susceptible than unmerciful people.’

Mary stayed, listening to Peter who was quite pleased with himself that he had managed to keep those people away; you could hear it in the way he now barked. Then she said: ‘Look, Joseph, let us at least try. The nights have become very cold, and without a roof to cover us we will not be able to sleep.’ Calmly, she continued on her way.

Now the dog became beside himself with rage. Barking continuously he danced around, kept back by his iron chain, trying to reach Mary. Before Joseph with his walking staff had managed to block his way, something unforeseen happened.

Suddenly, Peter stopped baying; he stood as stiff as a rod and looked at Mary, as if he had received a soundless command. Mary had come within his range, yet he did not attack her. The big dog, cowering first and wagging his tail, now sprang to meet her like a young puppy. Then he turned to lie on his back and Mary stooped down to scratch his belly. He started to growl when Joseph approached, but became quiet once more under the soft touch of Mary’s hands. ‘Now look, how wild is this youngster that has tugged so strongly at his chain’, Mary said, showing Joseph the open sores under his collar.
Peter stayed quiet under Mary’s touch. The dog would have loved to sleep in the sheep pen, too, to be as near as possible to Mary.

But that was not possible. He lay down contentedly against the door, feeling very fortunate to be allowed to guard Mary this night. The next morning, the shepherd arrived to let the sheep out. Astonished, he saw the door of the sheep pen opening, a man and a woman coming out, followed by a donkey. Peter, that vicious sheepdog, allowed this! Wagging his tail, he even sprang at them, licking the hand of the woman. In the pen, the sheep bleated lustily, as they only did when someone there whom they knew and trusted. The shepherd thought that he was dreaming and only came to himself when Mary and Joseph had long gone. ‘Na, Peter’, he called, ‘what guests did you have overnight?’

Oh, had he but been able to understand the dog’s language. Peter would have told him who had been spending the night in the pen! Yet, as the shepherd stooped to release his dog, he saw that the ugly wounds on Peter’s neck had disappeared overnight; and he was the more astonished.

Arie Boogert and Anna Marchant, 1998