Last weekend we said goodbye to the sweetest, most gentle dog that has ever touched my family's lives.
Kaimana ("ocean spirit" in Hawaiian) came to me when I was 22 and working at my first "real" job as a copy editor in Vallejo, CA. My mom and sister brought him down from Oregon to be my companion in my strange, new town. He was a handful, and being 22, I wasn't ready for him. I spent long days at work, and he routinely broke free from my little yard in Benicia. I'd get calls telling me to pick him up from the grocery store (yes, INSIDE the store), or from an elementary school playground (he was a hit with the kids). At 3 months old and already 50-60 lbs, at first sight he was an intimidating Newfoundland-Lab.
We went to class after class of obedience school, and I spent hours training him. He became a very obedient dog--about 95% of the time. I could even walk him off leash, and trust him to stick around if I went into Starbucks for a minute.
Regardless, after about 6 months, I decided I couldn't be a good mother to him and trucked him back up to Oregon. I spent the drive in tears, sad to abandon my wonderful pup, but I couldn't give him the attention he needed. My parents offered to take him in (my mom had wanted to keep him from the get-go!), and they could provide two other dogs to be his companion, as well as a large yard and the McKenzie River. He would be happy there.
My parents became Kai's parents, and provided a wonderful home for him. He was spoiled like a grandchild should be spoiled, but he stayed sweet and (almost) obedient as ever. When I moved to Hawaii, I considered taking Kai with me, but the prospect of hand-building a crate to house his 140-lb body on the plane, and then quarantining him for months, made me change my mind.
Kai spent the rest of his life in Eugene, and then in Waldport, on the coast. As he got older, his legs had more and more trouble supporting his body. He developed other problems, including incontinence. My parents covered the house in towels, learning to predict his bathroom needs, but spending a lot of time cleaning up after Kai. Even though Kai wagged his tail and rolled over when I would visit, he could no longer jump up to greet me at the door. His mind wanted so much more than his body could provide. Though my parents did all they could to make Kai comfortable, his quality of life was nonexistent.
After months and months of deliberation, he was put to rest at home with his parents. I was not there, and I can only imagine what they went through, knowing the grief I felt when he passed. The house must have seemed so empty.
But we all know he truly is in a better place, with the other Upshaw dogs, Bogie and Sam, swimming in the river, chasing tennis balls, and dropping that nasty, slobbery stick in someone else's hot tub. And I hope that someone else is providing a knee for him to lie his head on, looking up to with those big eyes. I love you Kai, and will never forget you ...
