When Kylie was about 3 or 4 she got really sick and we were really worried. We took her to the vet and they ran all kinds of tests and at some point they came in to the room where we were waiting nervously and said, “you know that she’s been shot, right?”

“WHAT? Wait.. When?.. What?” We were thinking that they were saying that’s why she was sick now and we just couldn’t figure out how that was xray2 possible since she was rarely even out of our sight. We were very confused. Then the doctor, who had no bedside manner whatsoever (this was pre-Dr. Monica of course), realized we were confused and explained that she wasn’t shot recently and that it had nothing to do with her current condition; which btw turned out to be colitis, caused by stress because we were moving. She had just taken x-rays of Kylie and saw two bb’s, one in her neck and one in her ribs. (See the bright white dot on the left side of her ribs.) It still took awhile for us to process what that meant…

What it meant was that when Kylie arrived at the Hawaiian Humane Society at the approximate age of 8 months, her wounds had already healed, which means that she was probably no older than 6 months old when somebody shot her with a bb gun! Can you imagine somebody shooting at something so cute?! Even if it was getting into your trash or something?! What is wrong with people??!

Of course we felt terrible because being the bad parents that we were, we had regularly made fun of Kylie for being scared of things like bubble wrap and paint ball guns – We called her chicken little! ( I know.)

Then again, knowing that she had survived a drive-by gave Kylie a lot of street cred! We started calling her an OG -“original gangster”- and joked about her potential career as a rapper. But it certainly helped to explain a lot of her issues, and we understood her a lot better.

Kylie was a tough little street dog, a scrapper, a survivor. She came a long way to her own chaise lounge and coach collars, but she was still a scrapper. Apparently you can take a dog out of the street but you can’t take the street out of the dog. And that’s why we love her!


April 24th was the day that we celbrated Kylie’s Birthday [ Her actual date of birth was likely earlier in the year, if we believe what they estimated correctly when we got her from the Hawaiian Humane Society. ] And celebrate we did!

We tried to make every birthday special. If the weather was nice there was usually a picnic in the park, and a shopping trip. Sometimes we celebrated with friends, always with our little family. Sometimes we even went on a little trip to the mountains or something. But there were two things that we ALWAYS did.. we always had a Happy Meal (or some other fast food kid’s meal for lunch), and we always had CAKE!

We would sing the birthday song – which was her favorite song and she would jump and dance!

Of course there were also presents, and Kylie thoroughly enjoyed opening presents!

Today Kylie would be 16, and since last year we were dreaming of her Super Sweet 16 party that would be worthy of Mtv; with pink & silver streamers and a Barbie car since she would be old enough to drive (legally this time)!

Today we are very sad.

Happy Birthday Kylie, we miss you so much.

People don’t believe us when we say it now, but we were really bad parents for at least Kylie’s first 7 years or so. A primary example is that when we adopted her from the Hawaiian Humane Society we signed paperwork that assured them that we had a suitable living space including a yard for her.

In actuality, we had just rented an apartment where we had to sign paperwork that clearly stated No Pets Allowed. (In our defense, Kylie was never our “pet.”) And since that apartment was on the 14th floor (technically the 13th), obviously no yard was included.

But Kylie was so good! She never ever barked back then – a skill she perfected later. And she did her business in a designated section of the fire escape and we just had to clean up every few days.

So Kylie didn’t go out a lot, but sometimes she had a party to attend, and of course it was Hawaii so she went to the beach a couple times too. And you know sometimes a dog just wants to go for a drive – literally, we let Kylie drive (more of the bad parenting I mentioned).

In order to get her out of the building undetected required a little stealthiness,burrito1 so we used this big green bag and had her jump in and hide. The code word for this operation.. “In Burrito.”

And now we’re forced to admit that’s a Beavis & Butthead reference (hey, it was the early 90’s). They meant INCOGNITO but Beavis said in burrito, so there you have it. We would open the bag and say, “Kylie, get in burrito,” and she would hop in! She would stand in it with her head poking out until we got out the door then she would hide until we got in the car and out of the parking lot.

It was actually like a game, and she really liked it, plus she knew it meant she got to GO and Kylie loved to GO!


Years later, when the bag was no longer part of her regular routine you could open a bag and tell her to get In Burrito and she would climb in so that we could sneak her into the hotel in Vegas or where ever. And Kylie Loved Vegas!

But I guess that’s a story for another time…

I know I said this wouldn’t be a chronological story and I’m sure for the most part it won’t be. Then again a little background wouldn’t hurt…

Once upon a time there were two girls. They were in their mid-twenties, living in Honolulu, and they had become fast friends with a common objective – ‘We must get an apartment so that we can get a DOG!’

So as soon as said apartment was rented regular trips to the Hawaiian Humane Society began. (Nevermind the fact that said apartment had a No Pets policy. That’s another story for another time) One day very shortly into this journey, one girl went to the Humane Society on her own and saw a very odd looking creature. It was about three feet off the ground having climbed the chain link fence gate of the dog run. “What’s that?” the girl inquired.

THAT was a mess of a lump of a “dog,” covered with motor oil and ticks, that had just come in that day. So the girl, who had been hoping to find something more along the lines of a pure-bred pup, asked to see IT. The dog was unresponsive and looked tired, beat up, and old, so the girl took pity. She put her name on a list because there was a waiting period in case somebody came to lay claim. Then she came home to announce to her roommates (there was also a boy in residence at the time) that she had found this poor, old dog who probably didn’t have long left to live so she was planning to bring her home to have a big party for whatever time she had left. (Which as it turns out, is exactly what we did!)

The next day both girls went to see the dog who had been moved from a run with three or four other dogs to a run with just a shepherd puppy to share. She had been cleaned up but now was sporting a gash on her head that we were told she got when she started a big melee with the other dogs in the pen. This seemed surprising at the time.

We took her out of the run to get acquainted but that was difficult because the little dog was so skittish. She mostly just sat on the grass, no eye contact. We gave her treats but she just tried to bury them or at least cover them with grass, which was cute but heartbreaking. The only true sign of life we saw was when we got her to walk near the area where they keep guinea pigs in cages. When she caught sight of them moving around, and presumably got a scent, she really perked up! But it was very short-lived and we just assumed, well she is a terrier of some sort so that’s just instinct.

When it was time for her to get sprung from the pokey, we went to pick her up and on her adoption papers we noticed it read “Age: appx 8 mos”. To which we said, “What?! Are you sure??” We were assured that the vet had determined this through thorough examination so we had no choice but to believe them. But it wasn’t until in the weeks and months to come, when she got BIGGER, that we really decided they must have been about right. By the way, on that last day she had been moved into a private run, all by herself, which was odd because they were at max capacity. They told us that she had turned out to be a bit of a scrapper. To which we said, “What?! Are you sure??” We would find out much later that they were right about this too.

She was a little scared of the car ride, then she walked in the door of the apartment, where she wasn’t allowed, stepped about one foot in the door and peed!

To the best of my knowledge this is the first picture of Kylie in her new home.


She spent three weeks laying on the couch like a potato, getting up periodically to pee on the carpet, then one day she decided she was staying so “they might as well get to know the real me,” and she WOKE up! Suddenly we had a puppy with all the craziness and destruction that comes with that!

To be continued…