Hula lies luxuriously, soaking in all the warmth from my dad’s lap. Her jeweled collar sparkles through her brown fur. Her front paws are crossed in a proper manner and her little head rests on them. Hula has a pampered life but she always prefers a lap to a cozy pet bed.
Hula joined my family in June three years ago. Her big head, little body, and loving personality warmed all our hearts. Quickly, she adopted the Davenport way but added her own scent.
“Hula, what’s your favorite chew toy?” I ask as a warm up question for the more serious ones to come. She picks up her “Bone da solie”, which is a chew toy mocking the popular and expensive suntan lotion my mom happens to use. Hulas brown butt is in the air with her slightly curled tail flopping back and forth. Her huge eyes are daring me to pry the Bone da solie from her mouth. “Hula, come on now. No playing around this is serious. Now where is your favorite place to hide?” Before I was through with my scolding her taunting attitude was gone. She got up, turned around, and pranced out of the room. As she made a wide right turn to the pool table room her inside paw had to be raised to complete the turn and the Bone da solie was still in her mouth even though it was probably weighing her down. She vanished underneath the pool table and she was gone. The first interview is finished.
Our second one, however, is a little more productive. This time I start off with, “What’s your favorite thing to do?” She just looks at me with her huge brown eyes that are finely outlined by hairless skin, which makes them easier to see. She blinks, continuously, yet slowly as she slips into her alert doggy sleep. Wahine, my older dog, walks into the room doing her hourly scan of the house, looking for both love and predators. She walks up beside me and sits, begging me to love her with her eyes. I decide that this is a good time to ask “Who’s your best friend?” When I tell Wahine to go away she gets up but decides she needs to sniff hula first. Hula licks Wahine’s big black noise when it was put in her face.
As Wahine swaggers away, acting like nothing happened, I ask, “What’s your favorite thing about life?” Simultaneously a car door shuts and an alarm clicks outside. Her ears shot up first and then her body. When she hears the key being pushed into the lock she went frantic. She runs down the couch, leaps off and whines in front of the door, wagging her tail and shaking. When the door finally opens, she starts hyperventilating and trembling running in circles around the foyer.