Puppy Love - for Rich on his 37th birthday

My brother Rich has always been my protector. Even though he’s my younger brother, he just took on that role. I’m not sure exactly when. It might have been the crazy summer we all lived together on Martha’s Vineyard with Julia and Nick - when I was almost 20 and he had just turned 17. Maybe it was then, I can’t be sure. It just feels like it’s been for almost always. And perhaps Rich had a natural inclination to protect me because our father was out to lunch, perhaps because he felt that he should, and that I somehow needed it (which I sure did). During the times that we lived in the same city (Los Angeles, CA and Manchester, NH, respectively), he always had my back. Whether it was taking my keys away after we were all stumbling down the street from too many La Carreta top shelf grand marnier margaritas or setting straight an obnoxious misogynistic chef who hit on me once (this one got the two-finger and steely eye right in his face ‘don’t you EVER mess with my sister again, you understand?’ Rich was always there.

He may appear tough on the outside, but tough on the inside? Yeah, not so much.

This soft underbelly became quite evident recently when his beloved dog, Red Dog, became physically distraught and just about unable to walk after months of mysterious deterioration and discouraging vet visits. The vet determined that Red had a degenerative neurological problem that was only going to get worse. Rich called me on his way home from work, several days in a row, just straight up sobbing and beside himself at the idea of putting his dog down. He owns his own design/build business and Red goes to work with him in the truck every single day. Has for nearly a decade. Red Dog is a red-nose pit bull. Sweetest dog you’ll ever meet. Smart, too. And not a mean bone in his body. Curls up with Rich’s 4 year old son, guarding over him in a way, but mostly just napping. Red is special. He just is. He’s just one of those dogs.

So after days of distress, Rich decided hell no, he wasn’t going to just take the vet’s advice and put his best friend down. So he drove 3 hours up to Maine to a specialist. An MRI revealed that Red had a viciously bad herniated disc in his neck. It wasn’t a neurological problem at all. But he would need surgery and it was going to cost $6,000.

Six. Thousand. Dollars.

On a nine-year old dog’s neck.

He might not even survive the surgery.

But the doc was confident. Red was a tough old man after all. With impressive musculature. In proud pit dog form.

That’s love baby. Rich is the sole provider of a family of four. He works in the construction business during one of the worst economic times in history. No pension plan for him. No cozy, 2-martini lunch, 30-year career in a suit. Nope, not this guy.

But so much love instead. Puppy love, I guess.

So this whole episode got me thinking. About our love for animals. Animals are so, so easy to love. They give so much and expect so little.

Rather unlike people.

People are so damn busy complicating everything. Overanalyzing. Sweating vulnerability and honesty. Putting up walls. Creating drama. Living in fear of this thing we all want and need.

Love.

Animals are easier to love. It’s just the truth. Animals are pure love embodied in such a wonderful, whole form. They don’t care what you look like or what you do for a living or how much money you make or what kind of car you drive. They barely even care what you feed them. So long as you feed them, of course. They’ll love you no matter what.

They lower blood pressure among the lonely.
The make older people live longer, happier lives.
They bring joy to babies.

It’s too bad that our relationships with people can’t be simpler. Kinder. Gentler.

Well, sometimes they are. But our complex brains and our primitive hard-wiring make us do stupid things too often. It would be nice if we could all try a little harder. Or maybe just have more pets. I don’t know.

Whatever we can draw into our lives that is pure and good is, well, good.

And as for my brother who has always been there for me, I miss his presence in my life. We talk all the time on the phone. Mini therapy sessions. Rants. Raves. Laughter. Joy. Pain. Sadness. Disappointment. Heartbreak. Success. Failure. More success. The price of gas. How annoying cell phone bills are. All of it. I may not ride shotgun to job sites but I feel, a lot of the time, that I’m almost right there.

Me, Rich, and Red Dog. And that’s pure love right there.

Happy 37th Birthday Rich. I love you with all my heart. I’m sorry I’m not up there on this particular August 3rd to celebrate with you this year. But I promise you I’m right there in spirit.

xoxo