Over the last 11 years Kiowa and I have been apart all of 30 days total. Partners in crime to the core, adventures at every turn. As many are aware, Kiowa was abandoned at SeaTac Airport in December 2004 when we were restoring my dad (Robert Maki)'s 1972-73 airport sculpture and moving it to its outdoor park location at the new southend terminal. After a week of trying to catch her, we succeeded the night before the flatbed arrived for installation. We later learned she was roughly nine months old (one ear still down), had been abused and shot full of buckshot and BBs.
Kiowa's thirst for adventure remained paramount through her life and her stories are what make movies and books: letting her self out of a house or garage, to return after she felt her point had been made; leading us on a full-speed chase through streets and parking lots full of Christmas shoppers, less than 48 hours after her initial capture, with me driving my truck in and out of oncoming traffic to alert folks of her presence as we tried to catch her; and I still wonder how it appeared for folks on main street in Bend, Oregon to look up and see a big German shepherd cruising atop the roof-edge of a three or four-story building as we ran behind trying to stop her from jumping over to the next building. For the longest time, we would often have to start driving away, with her racing behind, in order to get her to jump into the back of the truck and go. That said, she went everywhere with me, because she did not like to be left at home.