Ugly

When I first came to Maui I thought it was ugly. I mean really. "Welcome to our beautiful island. Enjoy the view of the power plant as you enter the city. What you are choking on is burning cane... " The Barbieland perfection of Wailea, the Texas Hill Country aridity of the badlands not in cane or corn -- where was Hawaii? Then I drove upcountry. Blue-blooming trees shading tiny ponies; cattle grazing among prickly pear cacti; a lavender farm with cafe for tourists. Two oceans, islands and that floaty feeling. Everywhere lava rock. At the top of the volcano, observatories to stare at the stars.

Whales Singing at Keawakapu

A Missy-eye view of the best beach on Maui -- best not just because of the sand, the water, the nearby reef, the fishies and honu, all of which you can find all over Maui, but because of the insanely gorgeous view, and the happy vibe! 

Picked on odd time for a swim -- 9:30, just when the sun went behind a chubby black cloud and the wind picked up to the point where "comfortable" turned to "chilly."  Still, the sand was not yet blasting, not above the ankles, and not at a velocity to strip the skin from the bones.  So high time to hit the gently rolling waves! 

My lazy self was rewarded with a bracing swim underwater to the tune of that odd, off-key squealing sounding exactly like someone trying to tune in an old-fashioned AM radio station.  Radio Walfisch.  Humpback Maui, For the Cool Waves.  The whales are back!  Whales, we're back!

Bad Dog

MRMers take note, it is possible to drive one's human insane with minimal effort, even on beautiful Maui.

It helps if humom is not too with-it to begin with.  It also helps to be a service dog! But I anticipate.

Yes, dear friends, we have returned to beautiful Maui, FINALLY.  I had a good flight, sitting on the seat next to humom drooling in the ear of the young muscle-bound gent in the seat on the aisle.  He giggled uncontrollably for much of the flight.  Several stewardesses took my picture.  Yes, we are that old.

Anywoo, on Maui we spent a wonderful month with Auntie Shel at Malmaison, flirting outrageously with Jesse the rattlermute and Tiggrr the oahumute.  Humom had less fun, looking for a place to live, since our old place was not available (humans are too dumb, she should have just marked the property, duhr).  So ANYwoo, she finally got this Craig guy with a list to hook her up with the place we have now -- you can bet I'm marking up a storm ;-)!  Since every single listing within our budget says No Pets -- and few landlords have heard of the law re: service dogs, which means Malamutes, specifically Me -- we got majorly lucky.  Our landlord and housemate likes dogs; a big selling point was that I am Very Well Trained, Never Off Leash and a Good Dog ;-). 

Well, yesterday while landlord was working in the adjacent yard with a lot of artisans, who decided to go for a tear?  A silver streak of Mallie after a cat, that's who!  Humom did the usual idiotic whisper-scream "Missy, come" between clenched teeth while nonchalantly walk-running after me, beet-red in the face.  She tried the "no kitty."  She tried running away from me.  Finally, she stood at the edge of the gully, me long out of sight, following the sounds of all the dogs in yards alerting at my presence in turn, imagining me being set upon by the local huge pit-mastiff mixes that are used to pull down wild boar up the volcano ... half in tears, trying to call, to listen, dignity in shreds -- when whom should she hear breathing quietly behind her but a sweetly smiling, adorable, melting-eyed Mallie that she is simply unable to strangle, much as she'd like to.

Adrenaline!  That's the ticket!  And after a healthful walk of shame past a grinning new landlord and his laughing workers, a juicy treat.

I wish you MRMers the same.

--- Miss Congeniality out

Questions I never ask myself

Are you ever overpowered by your legacy?

Bellingham

So humom and I have gone to look at yet Another place to live. The guy isn't here yet, but the landscape is gorgeous, so of course humom is doing what she always does when the view is overwhelming -- she gets down on one knee and starts photographing the Mallie in front of it.

A car, obvious rental, comes creeping around the steep cliff -- this time humom thinks it might be amusing to live vertically, hanging over the ocean with the north shore surf pounding below, no thanks says the Malamute --  and the people make the usual cooing Isn't she cute noises.  Humom is slightly embarrassed until the lady in the car says, "We have a Malamute too!"  Ears up, nose in the wind -- where??  But no, their Mallie is back home in Bellingham. But of course they, too, would be photographing him in the beautiful Maui landscape.

So aloha and woos to unknown Mallie in Bellingham, no doubt a special doggie day care full of happy Mallies and their prey back on the mainland.  --- Missy out

Camping!

Roughing it at my Auntie Shel and Uncle Clay's is really very rough, as you can see.  I have to sleep in a tent -- poor little delicate Malamute me, what with my fur coat and all -- on a King-size bed!!  The thing about this tent is, it's inside the house!  I know, right?

So you and I know it gets cold at night up here in the Maui upcountry -- like MAYBE in the 50s -- and it's totally windy.  Which gives me a fabulously fluffy coat.  And might possibly call for a tent or doghouse on rainy nights, thank you very much, now that I'm never you mind how old.  But a tent in a house?  Naturally, humom informs me that this invention is for the benefit of humans, not of Mallies.  Well, duhr.  It's because sometime geckoes and other little friends tend to leap down from the beams and into the female hair below.  Apparently, there are those among Auntie Shel's guests who object to this.  I would not have thought it.  Excellent entertainment, ladies! 

Anywoo, I'm in the tent for super-wussy ladies without any prospect of reptilian amusement.  From the picture you might suppose that humom will sleep in my crate.  This is not so!  She and I both sleep on the King-size bed.  Oddly enough, this is larger than the Queen-size we have been sleeping on.  I have not succeeding in finding any walls to have a good stretch against.  This is always followed by the most pleasing sound of humom thunking onto the ground.  Perhaps tents are made without any walls for a Malamute to brace herself against.  Clearly a design flaw. 

After such a sluggish night, a Mallie needs to stretch her legs running warp-speed up and down the road just outside the gate.  Too quickly for the camera to capture!!  Then inside for a refreshing snooze.  --- Missy out

Sometimes I worry ...

about humom('s driving). With me in the car. In the front seat.  She has a seat belt around her [more than ample] waist. My seat belt protects my right rear leg. Wow.

Anywoo,  humom was a little silly about rainbows on Oahu, but let's face it, that's pretty much what there was to enjoy, so whatever.  A decent neon rainbow over the brutalist buildings -- nice contrast.  But since we've been back on Maui -- pause for Halleluiah chorus - she's become a menace.  We wake up and she springs to the window. Yodels "rainbow!"  Well, duhr.  Kula to Makawao sweeping over to Maui Meadows -- somewhere there's going to be a rainbow.  Every day.  Backflips not required.

So we drive into Town, which requires something called a Costco card.  Explain to me, please, why the human approach to hills is to ascend/descend in the most circuitous and bumpy manner possible?  The intelligent person of the canine persuasion susses out the most convenient and direct route and simply heads up- or down-hill, with a merry view-halloo, or silently if Mallie.  None of us would subject her best friend to a nauseating, bone-shaking, serpentine torture ride.  Esp. while hanging out the window at [insert # per hour that will not attract MPD] at an angle not in the direction of travel, trying to photograph a rainbow with the music app and cursing the iPhone in several languages.  News flash: the iPhone camera does not like rainbows, learn the lesson already.

--- Missy out