This is a dog's story, but it is also a story of how rural communities thrive in Hawai'i.
I start my day with an hour or two of work at my desk, since 5 am Hawaii time is already 11 am on the East Coast where some of my short sale negotiators are getting ready for lunch. But if I haven't looked up by 7 am, my weimaraner drops a pair of running socks in my lap as a gentle reminder that it's time for our run.
What was different about our run yesterday was the dog we found not far from the bottom of the mac nut orchard above our house in the Halaula area
east of Kapa'au in North Kohala. He was not a pretty sight. He had blood and mud on his neck and chest, and gratefully laid down when he saw us, his eyes pleading for help. I carried him in my arms back to the house, with my pup proudly heeling at my side.
There are two small animal vets practicing in Kapa'au. We use Kapa'ua Veterinary because their holistic approach is appealing to my aromatherapist husband, and we were welcomed in when we arrived at their door just before opening hours. We left "Laki" (Lucky) to be stitched up, and went home to make a "found dog" flyer to post in all the logical places.
In a rural community like Kohala, Hawai'i, dogs are more than just pets. This little guy was well cared for, friendly and attentive, which told us he was likely a working dog. The purity of breeding of a dog or a horse here is less important to its value than the extent to which it has the genetic makeup suited to its job: herding cattle, guarding sheep, or hunting pigs. It was a pretty good bet our found dog mattered to someone.
And that someone would likely start their search on the town's bulletin boards: Arakaki Store at the bottom of our road is popular for its selection of lei, the snacks enjoyed by kids from the Middle School across the road, and of course cold beer at pau hana time. Next would be Sunshine Hardware in Kapa'au town center; then the Kapa'au and Hawi post offices (since none of us have mail delivery); and Takata Store, our main grocery.
Of course I also put the word out on Facebook, which is as popular here in rural Hawai'i as anywhere, although it seemed the majority of responses were from friends on the Mainland!
"Laki" spent the night with us, and in the morning my dog and I took the longer run to look for the employees of Big Island Eco Adventures who are installing their second zipline up above where we'd found the dog. One of them considered for a moment and suggested that the dog might belong to one of the Parker Ranch cowboys who work the cattle pastured up that way.
More luck for this little found dog, in a rural community in Hawai'i, where the culture is based on relationships. I emailed a past client of mine who works in Human Resources at Parker Ranch. She emailed the head of security, who let me know he'd send text messages to all the cowboys assigned to this North Kohala ranching area.
Seriously, modern working paniolo are best reached by text. In 17 minutes I got a cell phone call from the cousin of the owner of the dog. Five minutes later a pickup with the Parker Ranch logo was in my driveway, and "Doser" was wagging his tail furiously at the sound of his name spoken by a familiar voice.
We talked story for a few minutes, connecting all the dots, as other members of this particular paniolo family are working closely with me on our effort to build a community horse arena for North Kohala. And that's the moral of this dog's story: the quality of our aloha and the way we malama our relationships is how rural communities thrive in Hawai'i.
A hui hou,
Beth
