Dude Boy

On an afternoon in 1992 in Hilo, Hawaii I was outside of the house my family just moved into when my brother Jimi and his friend Mikey came walking up the driveway holding a tiny orange kitten. They picked him up on the side of Akolea Road on their way back after school when they heard his young cry that sounded like a bird chirping. The green eyed kitten measured four inches nose to tail. So cute. We wrapped him up in blanket and carried him around waiting for my parents to get home to see if we could keep him. After going back for an unsuccessful search for his mother, my dad said we could, but that the little guy probably wouldn’t make it because he wasn’t old enough to eat food. Jimi named him Dude and our family raised him from a bottle.

I was a 13 year old freshman in high school then and Jimi was just 11 and in the sixth grade. If you were to tell those two kids that Dude would grow up with us, see us through high school, live through both our college graduations, and into the year 2010, they would probably think you were crazy. We probably didn’t have much concern for the future anyway. We were just happy to have a cute new pet. But now here I am at 30 years old sitting in an airport looking back, being able to see the beginning and end of a life.

Dude lived a good life. Lucky guy.Everyday was a Sunday for him and he had the freedom to roam many acres of land as his playground and could come in the house whenever he wanted. He had a strong personality and took the classic feline trait of independence quite seriously. He didn’t like being smothered with attention, dogs, large crowds of people, being carried for too long, or having his picture taken. He liked arare, sheep, egg yolks, his ears rubbed, hunting, drinking rain water, exploring, and sleeping under Christmas trees.

He was very lucky and very loved.

From Dude I learned that unconditional love is possible. I don’t mean that it came from him, I’d like to think so but I can’t speak for him. What I mean is that I could love him unconditionally. I didn’t care if he scratched me, woke me up at 3 am to be let outside, left fleas to bite me, looked totally weird when his ears were removed because of cancer, or how terrible he looked in his final weeks. I loved him just the same without blame, resentment, complaints, or expecting anything in return. Though this may be easier with a feline rather than a human, it is still a chance to do so. And the same unfair consequence of the more and longer you love, the more you get hurt still applies. His decline and death had my heart in pieces. But loving you was worth it Dude.

Dude died on January 4, 2010 in the patio of our house at the old age of 17. Jimi and I saw him take his last breaths and I was sitting with him when he died. I swear I felt him purring as he left. We buried his body in our backyard and planted an avocado tree over him.

MIss you lots buddy.