All the dog books say that as a breed, shar-peis (the exceedingly wrinkly dogs you often see on greeting cards and posters) are “distant and aloof.” One thing is abundantly clear: my shar-pei, Winston, has not read the dog books.
“Distant and aloof” is not a phrase that ever comes to anyone’s mind when they interact with Winston. Affectionate, persistent, playful, pesky, demonstrative, mildly obnoxious – these may describe Winston, but never “distant and aloof.” On the contrary, Winston seems quite devoted to one mission: sucking all the attention and affection out of anyone who gets close to him.
Being the wrinkly visual feast that he is, it’s natural to want to pet and cuddle with Winston – at least it is if you’re a dog lover and don’t have a strong aversion to a little slobber. But petting and cuddling never seem to quite fill our dog’s love cup. Love is spelled only one way in Winston’s dictionary: p-l-a-y, and invariably, when he feels like he has snagged your attention, Winston always goes to retrieve one of his yucky toys.
We thought Winston would outgrow his extreme playfulness when he left puppyhood behind. But he’s nearly five years old now – 37 in people years, I guess. His maturity would indeed seem stunted. Thirty-seven-year-old men who act like Winston end up in psych wards or prison.
Playing with Winston is undoubtedly part of the deal we signed up for when we became his loving and faithful owners. It’s certainly not always convenient and it always costs us significant energy, but Winston obviously feels most loved when we are playing with him. We would rather calmly pet his soft wrinkles and rub behind his furry ears, but nothing communicates love to Winston like a rousing game of tug-of-war with a moist and stinky rope toy or fetch with his slimy rubber bone. Play is what psychologists call Winston’s “love language.”
People are like that, too. Well, okay, most of us don’t enjoy tugging on rope toys with our teeth (if you do, please don’t tell me), but psychologists say that we each have a “love language.” If we’re mindful of that fact, we’re better equipped to love one another much more effectively. I do not like to play with Winston all the time and would, in fact, like to teach Winston a new love language – something more sanitary and serene. But he’s wired to feel loved when someone is playing with him and I cannot change or deny that fact.
One expert and author, Dr. Gary Chapman (The Five Love Languages, Moody Press), has provided a list of what he considers the primary human love languages: quality time, words of affirmation, gifts, acts of service, and physical touch. Odds are good that one of these probably touches your heart more deeply than the rest.
And it follows that each of the people in your world can also be most powerfully blessed by one of these languages. If you want to love your family and friends well, you better learn to speak their love languages, even if they are as foreign to you as Swahili.
The problem is that we all tend to think that everybody is like we are. Big mistake. The people closest to you probably speak different love languages. You can resist that reality and endure sub-par relationships, or love them enough to learn their languages. Spend time with them when you’d rather read a good book; buy them special gifts even if it means you have to venture into heretofore unexplored and possibly uncomfortable regions of the department store. Say those honest, vulnerable things they need to hear; do something to help them in a practical way (wash their car, vacuum the house, pick up their socks); don’t be stingy with appropriate physical affection.
When asked to summarize the hundreds of laws governing the lives of the Jewish people of his day, Jesus made it plain and simple: love God and love others.
If loving others is so supremely important, I might as well figure out how to do it well, and learning to speak some different love languages might be a good place to start.
Okay, Winston, you win. Bring me that nasty rope. It’s play time.