The Life of Kylie

The Life of Kylie - An Autobiographical Adventure

April 24, 1993... A day that will live in infamy. Actually that date is only a reasonable estimate of my birthdate. There is no known record of my birth and early months. There aren't even any puppy pictures, what a shame. My memories of those first months of my life are hazy. The evidence suggests, however, that during that time I was living life on the edge.

When I was taken off the streets of Honolulu and into the shelter of the Hawaiian Humane Society early in September of 1993, I was a bit bedraggled. I had wounds on my head and face, and my fur was matted with dirt and motor oil. I had apparently been sleeping under cars and fighting for food, and for my very life. My family learned years later when the vet took x-rays that I still have beebees lodged in my body, one in my neck, one between my ribs. I was shot! People can be so cruel. That's why I was such a little scrapper, as my captors soon learned.

I guess you could say I didn't play well with others. I had to be moved from general population on my second day at the shelter, to a pen with just one other dog, a puppy. Then by the third day, I had private accommodations, it was really the best thing for everybody.

My soon-to-be adopted family saw me on my first day of incarceration. It was love at first sight, for them anyway. I was busy trying to make a break for it. I was about three feet off the ground, climbing the chain-linked fence. I guess it's a good thing I didn't make it, good for them I mean. A few days later they took me home.

At first, I was quite reserved, hard to believe as that may be. I was shy, and quiet, and I slept all the time. My family thought they had adopted a big vegetable with fur. I just had a lot of recovering to do from the traumatic beginning to my life. Besides who wouldn't be shy after the humiliation of "house-breaking" that went on for the first week. Finally after a few weeks I came out of my shell, and I never looked back.

We lived in an apartment building where "pets" were not allowed. And since my family didn't think I would pass for their short hairy cousin, they literally smuggled me in and out of the building in a large bag. It was like a game for me, they would hold the bag open and tell me to get in, I hopped in and lay down and kept quiet. In nearly three years, we never got caught. Not even the neighbors straight across the hall knew about me, but I think their big fat yellow cat did.

I was pretty destructive when I was younger, with a special affinity for electrical cords (my favorites were the ones that were plugged in, mmmmm.spicy!). I left my family sitting in the dark once when I chewed right into the cord for the floor lamp. Yeow, that was shocking! But it would take more than one high voltage shock before I broke the habit. I chewed up other things too, which is what led to the establishment of the Kylie Disaster Relief Fund, i.e. my allowance. They thought I should start paying for my own damages. Now that I've learned to respect other's property, and the power of electricity, I get to spend my allowance on things I want like toys or cookies. I also buy birthday and Christmas gifts for my friends and family. But mostly I save my money, Maybe I'll buy my own car someday. Sometimes if I do venture down that old path and say, oh I don't know, get in the trashcan and scatter the contents all over the place, then I don't get allowance that week. I personally find this policy a bit unreasonable.

A few months after I moved in we got some bad news from the vet... heartworms. Yes the life-threatening condition, heartworms. I had to go to the hospital for two days of chemotherapy, followed by a month of recuperation time with absolutely no playing allowed. It was hard on me and a tough time for the whole family, but we got through it fine. For all the people out there owned by a pet, please have them tested for heartworms every year and keep them on preventative all the time. It will protect both your hearts. I really like taking my heartworm pills, I chew them right up, and it's like getting candy once a month.

I experienced my first taste of fame on live radio. I had this cool friend who was a programmer and DJ at a major radio station in Honolulu. He had accepted a big job offer to move, so on his last day we went to visit him at the station. I was sniffing around the booth and digging the music, I was even singing along. Then, between songs my friend introduced me on the air, and I made myself heard. Later, friends asked if it was really me they heard on the radio. That was about five of my fifteen minutes of fame.

Life in Hawaii was good food, friends, lots of toys, and allowance rolling in. It was Paradise, or so I thought until we moved to New Jersey. I realize from a human perspective that sounds crazy, but consider a dog's-eye-view. As I mentioned before, in our apartment in Hawaii I had to live incognito. And in Hawaii there are almost no wild animals, except for tourist, nothing for me to chase. Not to mention a tropical climate year round can be hard on us fur-bearing types. When we moved to New Jersey a whole new world opened up to me.

My new world has seasons, including winter and I've discovered that I love snow. There is practically a menagerie of wild animals for me to torment right outside my door. And I don't have to hide, I can go in and out of that door all the time without disguise.

I have also traveled the East Coast extensively, and I love a road-trip. I've had street fights with those snooty New England golden retrievers in Boston. I toured Amish country and tried to liven things up for them. I have even strolled around Rockerfeller Center in New York City on Christmas Day wearing my lovely faux fur jacket. I have even traveled abroad, that is, if Canada is considered "abroad," It was great to visit the country that invented hockey.

I have seen and done things that a lot of people never get to do, and I know I have many more exploits ahead. I lead a very exciting life, especially for some one who sleeps sixteen hours a day.


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