Doggy World—A Community Of Their Own

Keaau Beach, Hawaii

I first met the dog while camping on beer can beach (Makua); back
then she was just a stray, thieving, dog. For the most part, it was
food that came between us. It's hard to stay mad at a hungry dog,
though, so we sort of adopted each other. When I left Makuua, she
followed. At Keaau, picnic leftovers were abundant and a smart dog
learned quickly how to fend for herself. In other words, White Fang
(her camp name) no longer had to steal food from me in order to
survive. Actually, once I got my unemployment money, it became a
fifty/fifty proposition. I would feed her some of the time and she
would eat "can food" the rest. During the day she would hang out with
four or five other strays. On the beach, garbage kept the dogs alive.
Her two best buds, One-Eyed Jack, a half-blind collie, and Primo, a
dwarfed yellow lab, used to hang at my tent. At night, though, it was
only White Fang that would show up to sleep. It was her home; every
once in a while that caused problems.

When it rained White Fang figured I put the tent up just for her. In
the beginning, I tried to stop her from getting inside, especially on
that first night when she had her boyfriend, Primo, with her. I
blocked her from coming in the front, but she was sly and smart. She
went to the back and squeezed in from underneath. I could have kicked
her out, but I didn't. Instead, I ended up cramped, sleeping in an
undersized tent with two smelly, wet dogs. In that unpleasant environment,
upon falling asleep, I dreamt about dogcatchers, and they weren't nightmares.