Ka Wai Ola - Office of Hawaiian Affairs, Volume 20, Number 10, 1 October 2003 — Kimo's Red Collar [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Kimo's Red Collar

Lisa Linn Kanae

a native hawaiian journal In coIIahoration wilh 'Ōiwi: A Native Hawaiian Journal, Kai Wai Ola reguIarly showcases works by kanaka maoli writers. In this excerpt of Kimo's Red Collar, Lisa Linn Kanae tells the saga of a misunderstood Stajfordshire bullterrier. Rescuing Kimo from an abusive incident, she finds that the dog ends up adopting her. In his new Iife, Kimo teaches all who eome into contact with him about prejudice, compassion, Iove and forgiveness, and in the end, a little bit about Iife. The first time I heard Kimo's dog tag was the afternoon he wandered onto my lanai. The usual coo-cooing of pigeons was displaced by a staccato of metallic clicking. Sniffing at my potted roses was a tan-colored, barrel-shaped, green-eyed Staffordshire bullterrier. It was the neighbor's dog. He was the same dog I had heard yelping in pain the week before. I marched towards my neighbor's house and hid in a hibiscus bush where I could peek through the branches into my neighbor's backyard. I could hear a man swearing

and loud thuds. Then the back door slammed open and a dog Hew out.

A young man bolted out the backdoor and began to whip the dog.

"STOP IT!" I screamed, hiding behind the hibiscus bush. I could see the momentary guilt on his face. I was angry, but I felt powerless. "I'm reporting you to the Humane Society." "Mind your own business," he yelled back. I bolted into my kitchen and dialed the Humane Society number. I was given two options: press charges or have the Humane Society issue a warning. I pressed charges. After seeing that man whip his dog, my ears kept vigil. Just as I had started feeling rather smug about my valorous fight against the inhumane treatment of animals, I found Kimo lifting a hefty hind leg over my potted roses. "No," I said. Kimo cowered. When I reached out to pet him, he collapsed onto his back like a dropped marionette. "You hungry?" I asked him. All I had to offer was a ehunk of cheese and half an Egg McMuffin. He graciously accepted both, and in exchange guarded my lanai for the next seven days. When Kimo's master finally showed up, he was disturbingly See 'ŌIWI on page 18

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Author Lisa Kanae shares a moment with her eanine companions. Photo: coutesy 'ōiwi

'ŌIWI from page 18 pleasant, probably afraid I'd turn him in again. Actually, I was afraid he might accuse me of stealing his dog, so I told him the dog was trespassing on my property — where was he for the past week? He had just returned from a trip. He apologized for the inconvenience, and if I didn't mind, would like his dog back. "Sure," I said. "You ean catch him on my lanai." After an embarrassing chase scene, my neighbor clipped a ehain onto the dog's collar and dragged the reluctant beast to his house. But Kimo escaped and found his way to my chaise lounge. After two unsuccessful attempts to keep Kimo tied up, my neighbor gave up. Kimo was too stupid to learn anything, my neighbor told me. As far as he was concerned, Kimo was useless, whieh meant, of course, that I would end up keeping Kimo. I didn't mind. Kimo was a worthless guard dog, but at least he looked the part. At first glance, he was a scary-looking dog. Whenever I took him for walks, people reacted as if I were walking Frankenkimo, or Kimozilla. Other dog owners would eautiously turn around and walk away in the opposite direction. Grown men would step way over to the other side of the sidewalk. Children would point and yell, "Look Mama, it's Spuds McKenzie!" Mamas would take one look at Kimo, then piek up their children. The truth was Kimo loved everyone, and onee people got past what Kimo looked like, they

loved him back. Joggers and hikers who frequented the trails near my house knew Kimo's name way before they got to know mine. Kimo loved children. He'd let them tug at his ears or hug him a little too hard. He was always willing to chase a ball, even if he rarely returned it. Kimo loved the mailman, the cable man, and the telephone man. He even loved door-to-door missionaries. Kimo looked like a fierce bullterrier, but was actually Ferdinand the bull incarnate; a

reluctant beast who preferred to contemplate on roses...before he lifted his leg to pee on them. 'Ōiwi: A Native Hawaiian Journal is dedicated to publishing the writing and art of Native Hawaiian writers and artists. It is the first publication series of the non-profit Kuleana 'Ōiwi Press. Submit your writing to 'Ōiwi at: P.O. Box 61218, Honolulu, Hl 96839-1218. For information, eall 956-3031, email oiwi@hawaii.edu, or visit www.hawaii.edu/oiwi. ■