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It’s tough to hunt
the bounty hunter

I'll obviously never make it as a bounty hunter. Or a bounty hunter hunter. I can't even find one of the most visible and celebrated television characters in Hawaii, bounty hunter Duane "Dog" Chapman.

My hunt began last year after the first block-busting season of A&E's "Dog the Bounty Hunter," in which the golden-maned fugitive finder and members of his leather-clad family scooped up a number of Hawaii bail-jumpers.

When the show first aired, I was all over it. I was the first writer to say it was going to be a hit. In another column, I praised the show for its amazing heart. Bad guys not only suffered the humiliation of being dogged by the Dog on national, indeed, international TV, but were then subjected to the Dog's heartfelt counseling on the ride to the cellblock. Duane was a bigger-the-life action figure right in my back yard, so I set out to meet the man.

But finding a big strapping guy in cowboy boots and black leather vest armed with cans of Mace the size of oxygen tanks isn't as easy as you might think.

I started with an e-mail to his office at Da Kine Bail Bonds, but as I learned later, by that time they were already getting thousands of e-mails, so mine disappeared in a storm of electrons. I then began a regime of phone calls, where I seemed to always just miss him. Since I was the only Hawaii journalist to mention his show in print on more than one occasion, I thought I would have the inside track on getting to him.

But he proved elusive. In fairness, things were really hopping for Dog Inc. by the end of last year. The A&E show was a smash hit, the second season was in the works and spinoff ventures were being discussed.

NEVERTHELESS, I had this vision of donning the leather gloves, armband and vest and riding along with Dog as he and his crew corralled bad guys who jumped their bail. After all, as a former crime reporter, I had ridden along many times with cops, sheriffs and private detectives as they engaged the dark side of paradise. And while the haughty national journalists poked fun at the outlandishly attired Dog Pack roaming Hawaii in search of scumbags, I was on their side.

But my calls weren't returned. So I ventured down to the Dog Pound, the offices of Da Kine Bail Bonds, where I hung out in the storefront headquarters while the office manager, Wes, arranged a bond for a guy who I sensed would soon become quarry for the Dog. This guy just had a bad attitude (the bondee, not Wes). But Wes gave him the speech about all the bad things that would happen if he didn't show up for his court hearings, not the least of which would be possibly a starring role on the TV show.

I waited in the office but Duane didn't show, so I left a message to Dog, urging him to give me a jingle.

Nothing. As a hunter of a fugitive hunter, I was hopeless. I thought of staking out his house, but there's a fine line between hunting and stalking.

So the year ended, and other Hawaii-based television shows came and went, which I noted in my column. Then, out of the blue in January, I got an e-mail from Dog's wife, Beth, who plays an integral part in both his life and business. She wanted to know why I wrote about shows like the ill-fated "Hawaii" and "North Shore" and never mentioned Hawaii's biggest TV hit.

Huh?

I e-mailed her back and said, essentially, you gotta be kidding, lady. I've written about the Dog show more than anyone in Hawaii and did everything but get a search warrant and subpoena to get to Dog for further coverage. Check the record. (I included copies of the relevant columns.)

We eventually talked on the phone. I explained that I wanted to ride along with Dog on a capture and write about it. But the new season was being shot at the time, and the column would have to wait until April.

So here we are in April. To get to Dog, all roads, phone calls and e-mails lead to Beth, so I called her back.

Well, things had changed. A&E would not allow any local media to tag along with Dog, she said, even though they weren't shooting the show.

This sounded odd. Dog can't take a local newspaper columnist on the road with him? I never heard of a TV production averse to publicity.

Besides, Beth said, she wasn't comfortable with the fact that I wrote a humor column. She was afraid I'd make fun of them. I said, no, I wouldn't "make fun" of them, I'd "have fun" with them. How can a group of people who have made their reputation through outlandish dress and comic-book action (a Dog cartoon show is in the works) worry about being made fun of?

Anyway, my Dog-hunting days had come to an end. Instead of watching Dog in action on the streets, Beth invited me to come "sit" with him. I understand. Life is good for them. The show's a hit. Money and offers are rolling in. Duane is the Big Dog now. Being invited to sit with the Dog probably seemed pretty generous from their side. But my dream was to ride with the Dog, not sit with him (or roll over, for that matter). So I said no, I didn't want to sit with the Dog.

I was asking if we could come up with another plan when Beth simply hung up on me. It was then I knew I was a failure as a bounty hunter hunter.