​I sat on the outside bench of the Petco store waiting for my client. She was late. I thought about all the previous events that led up to her decision to exit the island and return to her family in Florida.  Looking across the way at the Target store, I recognized Dominque’s petite frame walking on the sidewalk pushing a cart. 

 

    But she wasn’t alone. There were five other people pushing carts following close
behind her. As they crossed the street at the green light it was quite a spectacle for
the stopped cars. The homeless parade slowly crossed the intersection steering their carts tiredly to the other side.
 

    “Why me?” I said out loud in frustration. After all, it was a hard week and I thought this was it, we were only going to purchase the dog crate right now for tomorrow’s flight and I’d be driving home for the day. It was the final thing to do for this client, other than get her an Uber ride tomorrow to the airport for her flight to her brother in Florida. There had been so many police calls because of disturbances surrounding women over the years and when she committed to go with family out-of-state, it was a welcoming decision that would affect many for the better.  Her previous boyfriend, also homeless, had left the island two months earlier to live with his mother out of state.  He had since acknowledged his successful transition by sending me a text of himself proudly running a forklift at a citrus factory.

 

     We were now on the final steps toward exit for Dominique also, or so I thought. Though it was costly, we had obtained the required shots and health certificate for pet travel for Twinkle-Toes because Dominique insisted that she wasn’t leaving the island without her dog.  By the looks of things today, I was quickly dismayed at the sudden switch up, the wrench thrown in the mix, this looming entourage, an unexpected challenge that I did not want to participate in.  Who were all these people accompanying her?  It didn’t look good.  I took a deep breath.
 

    I stayed sitting on the bench until she arrived directly in front of me. “What is this?” I asked. “They all followed me here. I couldn’t stop them. Jesse wants Twinkle-Toes back”, she said somberly while clutching the leash more tightly, and motioning that he was directly behind her.  I nodded a hello to him and his entourage and escorted her quickly into the Petco store. “What the heck? We just covered you and the dog for travel and now he’s claiming her?” “Well", she updated me, “he unexpectedly just got out of jail after 14 months and is reminding me I was just supposed to take care of Twinkle-Toes while he was incarcerated, and that it’s still his dog. He wants her right now, but I’ve gotten attached to her. Look at him, he can’t take care of her! His body is shaking”. I went outside to talk to Jesse privately and introduced myself. He had a visible colostomy bag hanging from his waistband and was very gaunt. I wasn’t about to argue with him over a dog or deal with this foreboding group, so I told him he could take Twinkle and that I would not purchase a travel crate for her. Then I continued, “I want you to think about your decision, Jesse, cause frankly, you don’t look well. Can you really take care of her? Someone is going to snatch her from you, and you won’t be able to protect her in your condition. You know in your heart this is true. If she goes with Dominique, Twinkle will have a nice bed to sleep in and good food, and a yard if you let her go.” Jesse began to cry. He said nothing for a while, then replied, “You’re right. I’ve had her since she was a puppy. But I’m much sicker now. I’m going to miss her.” “I will have Dominique send pics to me and I’ll make sure you get them”, I promised and added, “You know what, Jesse, I have heard things about you, but right now you’re doing the honorable thing and that takes courage. You’re being a good father on behalf of Twinkle.”
 

  He signaled his crew to leave and they all began to walk away, when I remembered some items I had in my car that Jesse might want.  I rushed to the car and called back out to him. I held up the special articles of clothing belonging to my late husband that I had oddly kept in my vehicle for nearly five years. They were a fond memory, a keepsake, his favorite Levi jacket and a plaid shirt, the last of his
belongings. Jesse’s eyes lit up when he saw the jacket. He said the shirt was also
his “style”.  Like Jesse, it was time for me to let go. I handed him a new phone so he could contact me for future interaction.  I walked back into the store and located
Dominique who was anxiously holding the travel crate. “Both of you are cleared to
leave. Uber will pick you up in the morning. “
 

Regina Weller
Executive Director
808 Homeless Task Force
Hawaii County, Hawaii
July 2024 - Family Reunification Program