Kona: Hero On the Trail

It was a day we will always remember. What began as a joyful outing in the outdoors turned into a harrowing experience of unimaginable magnitude. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined an event playing such a pivotal role in a dog’s life.

Let me introduce you to Kona. He is an adopted Australian Shepherd with a personality best described as sweet and bubbly. Around our home, he’s affectionately known as Mr. Wiggles, a name inspired by his ever-jiggling bottom and bobbed tail that wag endlessly from side to side. His bright smile and wiggly joy bring laughter and light to everyone around him. Kona greets you with such pure affection that you can’t help but respond with open arms and a hug. His unconditional love is immeasurable, his spirit radiant. Witnessing the way he pours out joy makes me wonder: do we truly give dogs enough credit for their intelligence, their loyalty, and the boundless depth of love they carry within them?

Colorado is a natural backyard for adventure. Its spectacular scenery fills the soul with awe and inspiration, but within that beauty also lies wildlife that can demand sudden calls for survival. One late sunny afternoon, what began as a perfectly planned hike with Kona and his buddy Odin turned into an encounter we never could have expected. Kona and Odin are best friends, inseparable in their play and remarkably mindful of each other. On our hikes, we often give them the freedom to roam off-leash, trusting them to stay within sight and return quickly when called.

North Table Mountain, rising above the town of Golden, Colorado, is one of our favorite places. Its vast network of trails welcomes hikers, bikers, and photographers alike. For me, the mesa is a sanctuary of peace and reflection. If people can feel that way, I believe dogs do too – soaking in the same tranquility, joy, and healing that nature pours into those willing to receive it. Kona especially radiates that happiness, his spirit as bright as the landscape itself.

Our hike began around 4 p.m., a little later than planned, but the weather was perfect. Clear blue skies stretched overhead without a single blemish. The trees offered us bursts of shade, and the sweeping views filled us with peace and gratitude. Life could not have felt better. About three-quarters into the journey, however, we noticed Kona and Odin had drifted farther ahead than usual. Then, in an instant, they veered left and vanished over a steep rocky bluff overlooking an open expanse below. My daughter and I shouted their names at the top of our lungs, but only silence echoed back. Our walk turned into a quickened stride, then into an all-out sprint, voices straining into sharp, desperate cries, “Kona! Odin! Come!” Still, nothing. Anxiety surged. Our hearts pounded to exhaustion as dread clawed at us. The fear of the unknown wrapped tightly around us: Where had our beloved Kona and his buddy gone?

When we reached the crest of the hill, the sight below stopped us cold. There, in the open space, Kona and Odin were completely surrounded by six fully grown coyotes. Their piercing stares, bared teeth, and snarling jaws left no doubt – our dogs were being sized up as the next meal. Odin froze in terror. He sat motionless, head bowed, ears stiff, hackles raised, his tail tucked tightly beneath him. Kona, though, showed a different fire. With his body low and his growl defiant, he faced the predators head-on. Still, their situation was dire, and our hearts felt ready to shatter. We screamed for the dogs to return, but they stood frozen. Not an inch of movement. Tears welled in our eyes as the horrifying thought struck us – we might be about to witness the death of our beloved companions. Was this the end?

Then, in a flash, everything changed. Kona bolted. At breakneck speed, he tore away from Odin and from us, drawing the coyotes with him. The chase was on. The pack was relentless, snapping at his heels, lunging for fresh blood, but Kona was too quick. He zigzagged left, then right, kicking up plumes of dust that swirled around his pursuers. Our hearts raced as we tried to understand – what was he doing? Where was he going?

At last, Kona’s desperate sprint came to a halt at the feet of three mountain bikers resting on the trail. He collapsed beside them, panting, eyes locked on the predators. The coyotes hesitated, unnerved, then wheeled around to return to the easier target: Odin. My stomach dropped. I called for Kona, and he sprang up, sprinting back toward me, but dread consumed me again. What about Odin? I raced to the bluff, bracing myself for the unthinkable… only to find Odin safe, tail wagging joyfully at my daughter’s side. The coyotes were gone – vanished as if into thin air. Against all odds, it was Kona, our “Mr. Wiggles,” whose courage, instincts, and sheer will had saved the day and our lives.

Not a day goes by that I don’t marvel at the spirit within a dog. They are born to fill our lives with joy, to love without condition, to think and act with instinctive wisdom, and to protect those they hold dear.