Page 29 of Doggy Style

Yessi

Preston hails a cab as I pet the sweet pittie, who seems more alert now that he’s had some food and water. But he’s still shy, so I try to speak to him in a soothing manner. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. I got you.”

The pittie allows me to pet him, show him love, and ease his pain. I stare deep into his eyes, and we share a moment as he licks my cheek.

This dog knows I’ve just saved his life; I’m certain of it.

A taxi cab pulls up. The driver takes one look at the dog and drives away.

Okay, that could have gone better.

Let’s try this again.

I stand up and wave down another taxi. Luckily, this one stops and lets the dog and us inside.

“Where to?”

“The nearest vet.”

The driver gives me a blank stare. “Where to, lady? I need an address.”

Uh… I grab my phone and start to search for a vet, but Preston beats me to the punch. “Aloha Animal Hospital on Ulili.”

“Thanks.” I appreciate him taking charge and helping me. I snuggle up next to him, and he puts his arm around my shoulders.

“Don’t mention it.”

The taxi weaves through traffic, and I marvel at this day. I’m in Hawai’i, on my first vacation ever. Not even ten minutes into our trip, I find a stray dog.

I must be cursed.

Or maybe I’m blessed. “I’m sorry to ruin your vacation.”

“It’s fine. Who knows what would’ve happened to him?”

“Uh, me. He would’ve been caught on a pole by a dog catcher, held at the shelter for three days, and then held down by multiple people as they murdered him.” I close my eyes and try to force out of my mind the images of shelters dogs waiting in line for their deaths, being killed for the crime of being homeless.

A crime I’ve been guilty of in my own life.

Preston puts his hand on my thigh. “That’s awful. Well, now he’ll be fine. And we still have a week here, so let’s try to enjoy it.”

I push those depressing thoughts about shelter dogs out of my head and try to replace them with fantasies about this trip. I start to get excited, really excited about our vacation. What’s going to happen? Are we going to walk on the beach, sunbathe, go snorkeling?

“Here we are.” The cabbie’s voice brings me back to reality. Preston pays the driver, and we get out of the taxi.

We walk into the vet with the dog limping behind us. He seems sweet, but he’s obviously scared and will definitely need a strong handler.

Someone like Preston.

The lady at the front desk stares at the dog. “Do you have an appointment?”

I shake my head. “No. Actually, we just found this dog on the street. Can you scan for a chip?”

The lady nods and grabs the scanner. I hold the dog still, and she scans him head to toe.

Unsurprisingly, there’s no chip.

She picks up the phone. “I’m going to call animal control.”