Another bad day for stargazing, it seemed. While Glark slept, I got up and headed back to the buffet, this time making a better showing even though what I’d most regretted not having on Wednesday — the eggs benedict — wasn’t available Friday. Boo-urns. Glark was just finishing his ablutions when I returned, so we headed out, on apomp’s recommendation, to Kiholo Bay. The drive was very nice — apparently the bay is bordered by houses owned by the Paul Mitchell hair guy and the guy who invented the Pacemaker, and I guess they’re pretty rich. But the beach itself was practically deserted. We were promised sea turtles, but we must not have known exactly where to look, because we saw none. We did, however, see mudskippers, lizards, tons of little crabs, and a whole family of (we supposed) wild goats, including a young kid we thought was pretty cute until we saw even younger baby ones. As we were walking back to the car, we saw the babies in a somewhat open glade; they spotted us and “baaa”ed in alarm, and a couple of bigger goats showed up to run interference. Unexpected!
We went back to the highway then and drove up the coast to Hapuna Beach. This beach was much busier than Kiholo Bay, but nicer, too — regular beige sand instead of black at Kiholo, and with bigger waves, plus a snack bar (WITH FRENCH FRIES, thank you) and a counter for renting water toys and suchlike. We tried out the water; once we were in it, it was nice and not too cold, and also very shallow (and very salty). We swam for a bit, though once I’d been pulled down with the force of a wave into an unintended somersault that threw both my elastic headband and my goggles off my head and sending about four gallons of seawater up my nose, I took a break. Glark stayed in, watching people on boogie boards, and decided that it looked so fun we should try it. He went up to rent one and we took turns on it, eventually figuring out when and how to jump into the lip of a wave and managing to ride waves all the way to the beach — salty work, but fun. While I stretched out on my towel to try to dry off a bit in the sun, Glark returned the boogie board…and then something happened.
“I think someone brought their puppy to work at the snack bar, and it was the cutest puppy ever.”
“Yeah?”
“It was brown and soft and little and it was running around and it had floppy ears and it was adorable!”
“Well, that’s nice.”
We stopped back at the snack bar before leaving the park so that Glark could get a drink, whereupon he asked the woman behind the counter, “Did someone there have their dog at work today?”
“He’s not really someone’s dog; we just look after him. He’s a lost dog.”
“Lost?! Who would lose a great dog like that?”
“I don’t know! Do you want a dog?”
“I do want that dog, but I have to get on a plane tomorrow.”
Glark looked around the stand a bit, to see if the puppy would come out, but there was no sign of him. He was quiet the whole way back to the car, whereupon he abruptly declared, “I would adopt that dog, if there was some way we could. I would bring him home and name him Pineapple.”
Knowing that there wasn’t really any such possibility, I didn’t think much of it as we returned to our room, dealt with the four pounds of sand we brought back between us, and headed back to Kona to Killer Tacos — since we had actually located it, at last, the previous day. But midway through the meal…
“Remember that dog you never saw?”
“I remember not seeing it.”
“He was the greatest. I wish I could take him home with me.”
“That dog is your hula lamp.”
Glark was quiet again on the drive back until I finally asked, “Look, in all seriousness — do you actually want to get a dog?”
“…Maybe.”
“Because if you really, truly do, we can talk about it.”
This is a subject that comes up every time we leave Kim and Jim’s, because they have an excellent dog named Baxter whom I like just fine but whom Glark looooooooooves. Glark had dogs as an older teenager, so he’s used to them — the inconvenience, the smell, whatnot. Whereas apart from my parents’ ill-advised purchase of a purebred cocker spaniel when I was a kid (we had him for about two months, after which we all realized that we weren’t, as I apparently put it at the time, “a dog family”), I didn’t grow up with dogs, so I’m not. And there always seem to be more reasons not to get a dog than there are to get one — reasons such as that we travel a lot and would have to board a dog; we live in a cold climate and would have to walk him even when it’s ass-cold outside; when you have a dog, you can’t just go out and see three movies back to back (which we do sometimes) because you have to let the dog out. Also, dog hair gets in everything and every time you touch a dog, your hands smell like dog for hours. But all those cons might get obliterated by the overriding pro of unstoppable dog love. Seeing that dog, Glark claims, “melted his cold, black heart.”
Eh, at least he didn’t see an especially cute child.
{ 8 comments… read them below or add one }
Two additions:
1. Wing lost her goggles about 3 minutes into our swim but about 20 minutes later a stranger pulled them out of the surf right in front of me.
2. The dog’s full name is Hapuna Q. T. Pineapple.
Oh buddy, I’m a dog person so I know what yur going thru.
Also, friends of mine backpacking thru India found a stray dog who wouldn’t leave them alone so they brought her back to Canada, called her India and she’s the best dog ever. So I guess anything is possible . :)
Oh, now I feel bad. I should have mentioned that if you do take the road to Kiholo Bay, you should walk and walk and walk to the right once you hit the beach to get to the great turtle spot. But good to hear you saw other exciting wildlife instead.
There’s this excellent dog named Baxter who told me yesterday that he would like to come live in Canada.
I should also add, in fairness to dogs everywhere, that our dog is more high-maintenance than some and if I may offer some unsolicited dog advice, it’s that there is tons of info out there about various breeds etc. and there are types that like to lay about and just love you.
They still need to be boarded when you leave town though. Can’t help you there.
Dogs are the greatest, there is no question. I would be happy to offer all kinds of advice — stolen entirely from my sister, who deals with dogs as her profession — as to what you could consider.
From my own life, I can only discourage you from anything with “spaniel” in its name, because a shocking number of them seem to be biters, retarded, or both.
I recently got a dog, after many years of wanting one of my own and it was a great decision. The big caveat: I got a puppy and they are TONS of work. However, the joy she brings me is enormous, and I am quite excited to have a dog of my own to train and be my companion.
Oh, she’s an Australian Shepherd. Great dogs. High energy and smart as hell, so a challenge in many ways, but worth it. However, not the breed for everyone.
Man. My boyfriend and I almost took home a dog we met in South Carolina. We couldn’t have kept her because our new apartment didn’t allow pets, but his sister wanted a dog. However, we didn’t have cell phone reception out in the boonies, and couldn’t reach his sister on the phone. So we left her behind. Of course, we get back to school and all of our housemates have pets, and the landlord doesn’t care. All first semester, we would say things like, “Okay, you free this weekend? You want to go get her, or what?”
We named her Emmylou, after Ms. Harris herself. We have three photographs, and not taking her with us is something I will probably always regret. Best. Dog. Ever .
It’s been a coon’s age since I’ve read . . .
Please oh please tell me you took the puppy home. Even if you’re not a ‘dog person’ there’s something to be said for having someone that gets your ass out of the house on a regular basis (if even only to poop) and loves you if you’ve got bad breath and medusa hair.
I’m a dog mom in Minneapolis (honorary Canadian) and think it’s soooo much better than you can anticipate. We picked up Nikki (cattle dog/shepherd mix) in PHX and our lives would be empty without her. Yes, it sucks when it’s freeze-butt outside, but it’s brief. Hell, it gets colder here than it does where you are . . . .
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