Jewish Jokes: Did you hear one about Max the dog?

Jordan Palmer, Chief Digital Content Officer
Published December 4, 2024

I was once asked by the mother of an old friend, ‘Why I publish a “Jewish Joke.’ I responded and she thought I should share my answer.

I believe as Jews, we love to laugh. I believe Jews love to laugh at themselves and laugh at the very things we as Jews, identify as being Jewish. I believe we do it out of love and not with malice. I also believe that in history, we have used humor to add levity to serious Jewish concerns such as war, antisemitism, and the historical mistreatment of our people.

Jewish humor can be difficult to define. As William Novak and Moshe Waldoks write in “The Big Book of Jewish Humor,” it is easier to describe Jewish humor in terms of what it is not than what it is. “It is not, for example, escapist. It is generally not cruel and does not attack the weak or the infirm. At the same time, it is also not polite or gentle,” they wrote.

Not everyone gets every joke or finds every joke funny. If you don’t like Jewish humor because you believe it plays into “tropes” and “stereotypes” you are certainly entitled to that feeling, but please do not read further. Again, you are entitled to not enjoy Jewish humor, just as others are entitled to enjoy it.

If you agree with this definition of why we celebrate Jewish humor, you’re invited to read on. If you have a joke, please email me at [email protected]

My new dog Max

Jordan gets a new dog, a nice Jewish dog named Max. Excited to show him off, he invites his friend David over.

Jordan calls Max into the room, boasting about how smart he is. Max trots in, tail wagging, eyes bright with anticipation.

Jordan points to the newspaper on the couch and says, “Fetch!” Max hops onto the couch, but instead of grabbing the paper, he lets out a long sigh, frowns and says, “Oy vey, the chutzpah! My tail is wagging like crazy, my joints are killing me and this couch? Lumpy. It’s no place for a dog with my back problems! And don’t get me started on the food. You call that gourmet? Please, it’s so salty it gives me heartburn. And gas—oh, the gas! It’s like a horror movie in here! Twice a day, you shove me out the door like I’m some kind of farm animal. And walks? Feh! When was the last time you took me somewhere nice? Meanwhile, you’re sitting here, kibitzing with David and I’m schlepping around like your unpaid intern. But no, go ahead, enjoy your life. Don’t worry about poor Max.”

David, stunned, exclaims, “Max can talk! That’s unbelievable!”

Jordan sighs, “Not fully trained yet. He thought I said, ‘Kvetch.’”