In 1995, we took a family vacation to Hawaii. We were introduced to Kona coffee. All the while my brother and I have been begging for a doggy addition to the family. Matthew wanted a pug dog. We returned home from the trip and finally convinced our parents to look at dogs. We went to an AKC dealer and picked out a little boy pug. He was the only pug who wasn't crazy or nuts. The dog just went over to my dad and sat near him. That was just what he needed to do to come home with us. The dealers said the dog was small and probably the runt of the litter given its action. But we didn't care. He would probably be a really small dog. Boy was that dealer wrong, wrong, wrong. We named the pug Kona Coffeebean.
For his formative years, Kona lived in the laundry room. He lived in a plastic crate for a while, until he had grown into a metal one. I remember only being allowed to take him out of the laundry room for short amounts of time when Kona first came home with us. He used to be so tiny - Silvio sized you could say. If you sat Indian-style on the floor, Kona fit right in the space left between your legs.
After Kona finally learned to not go in the house, he graduated to having run of the ground floor of the house. By run, I mean run. He would attempt to herd people and furniture for about 5-10 minutes if the whole family managed to be in the family room at the same time. We thought it was hilarious that he would do that. Now I am not surprised when Silvio does it as well.
The years sort of jumble together. I remember a summer, where it was sooo hot, Kona spent the entire day splayed out on the tile in the foyer. Winters when the snow was so deep - Kona tried walking on top of the snow and in an instant he had dropped underneath it. From then on we knew we had to shovel a potty area before we could take him out. Countless highschool mornings when I would have my Kona time watching some silly cartoons before I head off to school. Kona passing up everyone else to sit on Dad's lap in, by the by, a chair whose own time has passed. Kon-bone noticing the luggage coming up from the basement and getting sad because he knew we were going on vacation. Kona chewing on the family room carpet. His plastic bag fetish. Kona's ability to alert us to any danger - including those dogs (even animated ones) on the television. I left for college - Kona was so mad, he left...how shall we call it, a "present" in my room. The symphony that we call Kona's sleeping. The myriad of noises he made while we ate at the dinner table. Kona's love for mashed potatoes - which believe me, left me conflicted when I wanted to finish the last of the potatoes.
Kona got older. It was harder for him to move around. We started giving him glucosamin-chondrotin for his aches and pains. He stopped jumping up on people and the couch. It took him a long time to get up the stairs. I am very glad Kona stuck it through my wedding and getting to meet Silvio. He even perked up after Silvio's trip - he followed people around and was on the whole much more active. I wish he and Silvio would have had the chance to hang out together at Christmas again. But there will only be one silly pug dog at Christmas this year - not the fawn colored one. Kona passed away on Monday December 8, 2008. I am happy to have had such a wonderful dog for 13 years. He was a good dog and I hope up in doggy heaven that he gets all the mashed potatoes he wants.
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