Lilith stalls

 

Lilith and I have walked hundreds of miles together, settling mostly into a three mile walk to the top of Valley of the Temples Cemetery and back, always under the gentle reach of the Ko`olau. I'll stop to take photos, she to sniff and pee and stare at chickens, cats, and mongooses. She'd rather hunt them, but a red leash prevents that. A few weeks ago, Lilith started to go on strike. The leash would suddenly tense. I'd look to see Lilith leaning back, her eyes directed at me, as if to say NO. At first I tried dragging her, but that wasn't good for her or for me. A few times, I let her go home, thinking she wasn't feeling well. Arthritis? Too many kitty poop snacks? Late middle age? Boredom? (That's it.)

 

I remembered that when we took walks with my creative writing students, I let her choose where we went. Strange perambulations we took around the UH campus, off sidewalks, nearly down storm drains, around old buildings. Why not do a variation on that again? So I began to let Lilith choose our way, at least some of the time. Today, we got to the cemetery, and then veered off on the grass, wandering to a tree at the top of the hill, then down and off to the dirt edge where the cemetery ends. No, she didn't want to get back on the usual course (whose treat at the end is the guys who spoil her silly), so we turned back, walking along the edge beside `Ahuimanu School (hearing the sounds of delighted children), stopping at my favorite paper bark tree, then crossing Kahekili to walk through the strip mall near the new instagram sensation, known for its sublime views. McDonald's, that is. We passed a group of water workers, air hammering holes in asphalt. One guy was wearing a Cardinals cap. "Are you?!" I asked. "No, but I like KC," he said. I was wearing my KC hat. It's a Negro Leagues Baseball Museum cap, I said. "The Monarchs?" That's it.