Siblings and Dogs

The Great Plotnik has been listening to several people, in the past few days, talking about their relationships with their siblings. (He has been one of those people.) Upon reflection, something about the conversation has struck him as incongruous. Perhaps those of you who have perfect, seam-free, picturebook relationships with your entire family already know what follows here, but there are those of us who need to think about it still.

Some people spend a lifetime thinking they can change a mate. We all know this can't be done. But we still think it's possible to make a brother or a sister behave the way we want them to.

It ain't gonna happen. Plotnik and his brother Shmeckl have known each other longer than practically anyone else. They've seen each other's best and worst. Shmeckl knows Plotnik's weaknesses. Plotnik knows Shmeckl's blind spots. That's the way it goes. We're all flawed people.

So the key seems to be accepting with some semblance of grace that your brothers are always going to be the spoiled, snot-nosed punks (if they're younger) or overprotective cyborgs (if they're older) you figure they really are. But ask yourself this: if this man really needed you, would you think about his shortcomings or run to wherever he is to help him? Would he sit by your side if you were terminally ill? Could you count on him to go pick up your child if your child were in danger?

If the answer is yes, to hell with the rest of it. Our siblings are not our best friends, we didn't pick them out at the kennel. We all got dumped in here together.

Yes, it would be nice if for once they would just...oh, whatever. They can't. Dogs can't talk either but you scratch their ears anyway. They smell too. Big deal. They know how to make you laugh.