My father was one year old, when his family, together with all of the town’s Jews, were exiled across the Dniester River northeast to the Mogilev concentration camp in the area known as Transnistria. When Freddy was about three years old, my grandparents discovered to their horror that their son was filching food from their meager store of supplies to feed a dog named Tufik. Freddy’s parents could barely feed him and his older brother Yisrael. I am sure they were furious, and obviously Tufik's feeding was summarily stopped. My father used to tell and retell the story and would mention this episode throughout my childhood. He would imitate his call to the dog, “Tufik, Tufik, nah!