I’ve never had a New York City dog. My dog was all island.
I was raised side by side with the worlds noblest, greatest, most wonderful dog. He was more than a pet, he was a brother. Seriously, since the dawn of time there has been no greater mammal to ever walk on all fours… If there were any question in your mind I offer up the following:Here he is as the cutest puppy ever. See? Not up for debate.
He appreciated the years I spent undergoing obligatory french-braiding on my mom’s torture chair, even if I could not.
I’m sitting on the our front porch steps surrounded by my brother and sister in one of our many hours of puppy worship.
Palette never saw the difference between him as a dog and us as humans. Why should he fetch sticks when we were all throwing sticks? No. He’d throw sticks with us. We could all run into the water and get our own sticks. Pal was all about playing fair.
He was wonderfully patient and willing to waiting his turn, whether it was a family board game or…
Pal’s one and only flaw was that he was a wimp. In the middle of Hawaii’s winter Oahu temperature might drop to a frigid 62 degrees on the coldest of nights. Pal would stand outside our double screen doors whimpering and whining. How could we be so cruel as to not make him a hat and a coat and some gloves to keep him warm in the wind?
If I were lucky enough to have him here with me today. I’d want him wearing a scarf.