Kanaloa's Story

By Kenneth R. Pelletier, PhD, MD, 2000

"Kanaloa", Polynesian for "god of the oceans", was an altogether fitting name for the scruffy Rhodesian Ridgeback and Golden Labrador puppy who found us on the beaches of Kauai. Like a visitation from the gods, we had no inkling of the literal miracles that Kanaloa would bring into our lives in the subsequent decade of our all too short time together.

Predictably it was my wife, Elizabeth, who first spotted him trotting across the street to greet us with a toothy smile and a tail waving high in the air. "Oh, look at the starving puppy," were the first words I heard. To which I emphatically responded, "We are not bringing him home!" My resolute stance was born out of many years of rescuing dogs, cats, horses, birds, and innumerable members of our growing four- and two-footed family.

To be sure, it was not love at first sight. He was so thin that every vertebra protruded from his back, his furry coat was virtually nonexistent due to malnutrition and mange (found later to be a life threatening strain), both eyes were infected and oozing, and his doggy smell was clearly not an island plumeria! Although he followed us to the one small Chinese market in Hanalea so we could feed him, we (at least I) thought this would be the end of our relationship.

Day after day, we would watch him playing on the beach with an affectionate female whom we dubbed "Mom Dog" and a three-legged German Shepherd with the highly original name of "Three-Legged Dog." Together they were quite a pack of ragamuffins who compensated for their physical shortcomings with seemingly endless energy and games of chase along the length of the huge crescent beach and shallows of the breaking waves. As we watched the starving puppy, we were struck by an inner poise, dignity and bearing that belied his shabby exterior. We fed him modest amounts of food so as not to overwhelm his digestion, and although he was starving, he would sit quietly and then eat slowly and methodically with impeccable manners and a disarmingly quiet presence. There were children on the beach who played with the dogs and although he was often too weak to even stand, Kanaloa would pounce and then play with his gentle demeanor to the delight of every child as though they were the center of his universe, and they were.

Over the course of a week, we fed him and he slowly gained weight; we had many wonderful walks with him and his equally scruffy companions at sunrise and sunset; we gave him a bath to try to help his sores and mange, although he emerged no closer to breeder show quality than before; we watched over him as he sought the shelter of our deck in the warm trade wind rains. And we fell in love with his indomitable, loving and compassionate spirit. Each day we asked local residents and beach tourists if anyone knew him or where he came from, but this was met with an indifferent shrug and a dismissive snort about the overpopulation of stray dogs in paradise. Toward the end of the next week we started in earnest to talk with residents along the beach to see if they would give him a home, provided that we would pay for all his veterinary bills and food for at least a year. At one point, a young woman and her son who owned a local store said they would be willing to take him. But later that night we found him lying patiently on the grass mat outside their door long past when they had locked up and gone home.

Seeing him be so loving, trusting, forgiving, and loyal against all odds just broke our hearts. That night my wife and I had a very long, emotional talk, when my indifferent demeanor finally cracked and I had to admit that both of us had fallen in love. At sunrise we walked to the beach and the three dogs joined us. My wife wondered what we might call the scruffy puppy and immediately she heard the word "Kanaloa," not knowing its meaning at the time. Although the day started with a glorious sunrise, it soon changed into a monsoon-like deluge. Since it was near time for us to leave in a few days, we committed to taking him home. But the last time we saw him that rainy day, he was running full tilt down the beach and disappearing into the rain and mist.

Reluctantly we went downstairs to the laundry room to prepare for leaving, when my wife whispered to look down where I saw the bright, shiny, yellow-brown eyes staring silently up at me from the height of my right knee. It was the sight of his soul staring silently up at us that galvanized us to race all over the island to buy the one available dog kennel for his flight, find a veterinarian at the end of a dusty lava road for vaccinations and a heartworm check, and call the airline for an additional ticket. We had a new family member. That night Kanaloa slept quietly on the deck outside our bedroom while "Mom Dog" and "Three-Legged Dog" kept a silent vigil for their beloved friend.

With his astounding grace, composure and lion-hearted dignity, Kanaloa braved the noise of two major airports and confinement in a kennel which surely must have intimidated him with its contrast to the churning of ocean waves and the endless expanse of his beach. As though in a cosmic reciprocation to us, he brought a miracle into our lives as we changed flights in Honolulu. Actually, we had escaped to Kauai to retreat from what was an overwhelming sense of too many responsibilities at home and a conflict I was having with a higher-level faculty member at my medical school. Suddenly, in the gate area lounge, that very individual and I came face to face, and in a very brief matter of minutes, on a neutral ground, with my being filled with Kanaloa's love, that individual and I set aside years of conflict in the most miraculous encounter.

Little did I know how Kanaloa's love opened our hearts and how many, many literal miracles would occur with us and all who came to know and love him. Much to our surprise, he grew into a magnificently beautiful dog with a coat as golden as a Kalahari lion, and amber eyes that always looked steadfastly and lovingly into the depths of our very soul. Often times during his life we communicated with him through our friend, Jeri Ryan, who later taught us the art of contact and communication so we could connect with him directly. Kanaloa's perceptions and wisdom were always inspiring, insightful, and so filled with the "mindfulness" to which we all aspire. With every walk, he taught us to experience the day through the smell of the earth, the sound of quails and Red-tailed Hawks, the taste of a mountain stream, the delights of rolling in wet grasses, and the immediate present moment of infinite possibilities and exuberance. Throughout his life he remained a puppy at heart, always signaling with his pounce to come play, chasing his tail in sheer delight, and racing through the tall California grasses or cold Pacific waters with his beloved German Shepherd, and lifelong companion, Zoe, who adored him as much as all of us whose lives he touched. Throughout his life he retained his regal, leonine demeanor when in repose, while punctuating those meditations with his sheer joy and exuberance that, even in the midst of difficult days, always reminded us of joy, vitality, forgiveness and love.

Just after Kanaloa's tenth birthday, his appetite fell off for a few days but his energy and playfulness were unabated. As a routine precaution, we took him to his lifelong veterinarian who had originally saved him from his life-threatening mange. All of his blood tests and liver functions were completely normal, but the veterinarian detected a large mass in his abdomen that biopsied as a dreaded carcinoma. Within 24 hours, our beloved friend and companion was faced with imminent death or a potentially futile surgery.

That night before his surgery, we all slept side by side as a family and never in all my life had I ever wished for the sun not to rise. On that last day we went for our usual walk and as Kanaloa jumped in the car to go for his surgery, his eyes were bright and clear, his exuberance for life overflowing, and his gentle kisses as sweet as a puppy's.

It was within minutes of his surgery that our friend and veterinarian walked out of the clinic to the tree where we were all waiting for Kanaloa. His posture conveyed what his words confirmed. With all of us in tears, we agreed to let Kanaloa die with the grace and dignity that he exhibited throughout his all too short lifetime. Shortly after his death, Jeri assisted us in communicating with Kanaloa, who conveyed his unbounded joy at meeting the "Francis man" and hearing the roar of a Kalahari lion greet him at the end of the Rainbow Bridge. When we talked with our friend and veterinarian a few days later, he conveyed to us that both the primary surgeon and he were overwhelmed by the extent of the metastatic cancer and that Kanaloa should have been dead six months ago. From a medical perspective, only one lobe of his liver was functioning, his spleen and gall bladder were virtually engulfed with intestinal metastases, and he had stopped eating since his stomach had been invaded and consumed by the aggressive carcinoma. From a more spiritual perspective, we all knew that it was Kanaloa's lion-heartedness and soaring spirit that had borne up his body. For all of us who knew him, it was a certainty that his spirit had outgrown the limitations of his earthly body until he burst with unbounded joy into the infinite light.

On the evening that we brought Kanaloa home it was cloudy, but as we approached our house, my wife pointed out a ray of the setting sun that was illuminating Kanaloa's favorite lookout spot where he would wait to greet us with a bark and an animated run to the gate to coax us into his world of play. It was as though that ray of sunlight echoed, "Look at the starving puppy" who had enriched our lives forever. At sunset we buried his body beneath a ginkgo tree that would only be outlived by our memories and love of our most beloved friend and companion.

Now when we envision Kanaloa, he is radiant with joy, running with abandon on his crescent beach alongside the turquoise blue waters and pounding surf of a perfect island paradise. His old friends, "Mom Dog" and "Three-legged Dog", are with him sharing the exuberance of their reunion, never to be separated again. No longer a ragamuffin puppy, he is a magnificent, leonine, amber-eyed dog of stature and dignity. With a wisdom only borne of being consciously on the other side, Kanaloa conveys to us with a pounce and a wag that one day we will all be together again on his beach where he patiently awaits our arrival.

About the author: Dr. Kenneth R. Pelletier is a Clinical Professor of Medicine and Professor of Public Health, University of Arizona School of Medicine and University of California School of Medicine, San Francisco (UCSF).

This article was reprinted from The Latham Letter, Summer 2000.