THE VERB OF LOVE 7/13/10 by Sue Menahem, L.C.S.W.

               Do you remember who or what taught you the verb of love? The real meaning of the action word “love”? Maybe it was a significant other, maybe a child, perhaps a passion or career path, or maybe it was an animal. I had always thought that I knew what “love” meant -- I loved my parents, I loved my friends, I loved whoever I was dating at the time, I loved pepperoni pizza, I loved the beach. It wasn’t until I came across an 8 week old little German Shepherd Rottweiler mixed puppy that I learned what it was really all about.

      I’m still not sure what made me sign the papers. Sure he was cute, but did I really have to get a puppy? I was in my last year of a graduate program, working full time, interning 20 hours a week and on top of that I had just purchased and moved into a brand new home – things were still in boxes! What made me decide I needed to throw an 8 week old puppy into the mix, I’ll never know.

     Our first night together was miserable. I had him set up downstairs in my kitchen, he had toys, soothing music, a comfortable bed and I had played with him for over 3 hours to ware him out. I was exhausted. As soon as I turned out the kitchen light and headed upstairs for bed, it began. Barking, yelping, screeching like I had never heard before. Anybody passing by would have thought that I was skinning this animal alive. I tried to ignore it hoping he’d get tired but as the night wore on, he just got louder. Every bit of patience drained from my body, I trudged downstairs to the kitchen and turned on the light. There he was, wagging his tail, smiling and looking up at me as if to say “Hey pal! What took you so long??” I scooped him up, took him upstairs to my bedroom and put him in a box I had just recently unpacked. At least, I thought, he would be in my room and finally shut up so I could sleep. The clock said that I had 5 hours of valuable sleep time left and then a 16 hour day ahead of me. Light turned out, both of us tucked in, problem solved. 5 minutes later, I heard a gnawing sound. Was it the beginning of a dream? Of course not. The little puppy began gnawing his way out of the box. Frustrated, I took him out of what was left of the box and tied him to the leg of my brand new dresser – which led to gnawing on the dresser and more yelping. Drained, exhausted, and filled with regret, I slid onto the floor next to him and began to cry, what had I done?? Happily he leaped over to me, curled up in my lap and within seconds, he was fast asleep. And, that’s how we slept our first night together.

     When friends came by to see my new puppy, I begged them to take him – dog, crate, food, toys, leash, bowls – all of it for free. Just take him. He was too much for me. Although many considered it, nobody took me up on it. I finally resolved that I was going to have to deal with him myself.

     Life became, working, interning and training and entertaining this new little puppy. Long walks were a godsend -- although there was that time when he was so wound up and I really needed to tire him out and took him on a mile long walk to the store. On our way back, he decided he was too exhausted and wouldn’t go another step. I wound up having to carry him all the way home and of course, when we got back, I was exhausted and he was raring to go!

     I’m not sure when it happened but at some point, I began looking forward to coming home to him. That silly little happy face and wagging tail was always so thrilled to great me. I arranged puppy daycare for him, playdates, and outings not because I had to, but because I wanted to. It made me happy to know that he was having fun and enjoying his life. Sure I got mad the day I came home and found that he had chewed my favorite pair of Tevas to pieces but for some reason, it was so easy to forgive him. As time went on, anybody that knew me knew him too, we were that inseperable.

     He spent the better part of 12 years being the best little dog a person could want. Then suddenly he got very sick and I needed to contemplate putting him down. I don’t know how he managed to teach me about real love, but he did. It’s the kind of love that doesn’t really care what, if anything, you get in return. The kind of love that warms your insides solely because you’ve done something warm for someone or something else. The kind of love that is verb, that makes you do, that opens you up, that makes you need to be there regardless of anything else.

     There was no other decision to make, except for the hardest and most loving decision of all … To say goodbye and to end his suffering. They say that owners and their pets will meet again one day by a rainbow bridge and cross the bridge into wherever together. I’d like to think that’s true. Not only would I love to hug that furry little body one more time, but I’d really like to thank him for opening my heart and teaching me that real love truly is a verb.

In memory of Jembay, August 29 1997 – June 30 2010