Can’t help but find a bit of irony in that I just left San Diego in December, a city that never snows, to record breaking snowfall in New England.  It’s been a long, harsh, unforgiving, and at times perilous winter but it’s impossible not to appreciate the absolute beauty of it.  
There are two photos nearby that embody this dichotomy – the first is of while taking the boys out for their evening constitutional, shadowcasting.  Nothing more than a rustic rotted out fence and a distant light but witness the symmetry and the simplicity.  

The other photo is of Hudson trying to take a piss in the several feet deep of spongy soppy messiness that makes it difficult for him postoperative.  I’m sure there’s a greater metaphor here but right now it’s buried beneath two tons of snow.  It’s been so unending here we’re about to make Winterfell look like the Sahara.  

He’s recuperating super well, we slept on the kitchen floor last night but brother, can you spare some green grass?  
YBD’s Notes 1:  Didn’t post it here but Hudson had a mast cell tumor removed yesterday.  Off social media sites for a spell to prepare for the upcoming filming for the interview.  To get updates here’s the link: Puppy Up Foundation
YBD’s Notes 2: Ginger called me up this morning to complain about the 3 inches of snow they got in TN but in all fairness, she has a Doxie and I’m sure his pecker is snowier than Hudson’s.  

Sydney didn’t make it.  She was due to be discharged this morning but an unexpected cascade of events occurred last night that was unstoppable.

She never made it home but after she was given rest, we got back to Valerie’s house and found Hudson on the pile of comforters and pillows
meant for her as though he was awaiting Sydney’s return.  And Valerie asked me if I believed Sydney’s spirit did make it back.    
Do I believe in that, she asked me.
As a man of both science and faith, I’ve borne witness to many inexplicable, unresolvable things on my travels. Long ago, I wrote a poem whose opening lines were;
“Cast before a silver sheet,
Tracing lines that never meet.”
Reflecting now back on those words I once wrote, I think what I meant was that a life, a love, a mile, a moment in time can be captured photographically but never truly and wholly represented.  
I believe that there is a spiritual connection between loved ones that does and maybe should defy our scientific understanding.  Energy is an expansive thing that is neither created nor destroyed.  And  though the lines never add up and never meet – that connection may change, it is never lost.  
 I wrote sometime ago about still being haunted by Highway 40 out of Baltimore on the first walk. For some it’s like the naked nightmare when you’re in public completely unclothed and exposed or others the one about missing the final exam and failing the semester even years past graduation.

Mine is losing my boys. 
It almost happened on that highway.  I’d been given collars to test out for a potential sponsor. Slim sleek with a few bells and whistles I outfitted Hudson and Murphy with them and hoped they’d work but at that critical point – they failed and slipped off within 50 feet of 4 lanes of traffic traveling 60 mph.  
I had like four heart attacks in the time it took me to secure them.
That wasn’t the first time nor the last they got loose and during the 2,300 mile walk and I always imagined, no I hoped for a better solution than microchips which is basically, ‘you lost you’re dog,well maybe he’ll turn up when someone finds him.’
TAGG offers that kind of hope to pet parents and that’s why we’re partnering with them on this walk.  
Not only does TAGG have GPS tracking if your dog gets lost but you can also monitor their daily activity and they’re the only company that does that.  And while we’re on the road, TAGG plans on having contests for the pups with the most points though expect some stiff competition from the fuzzybutts.  We’re averaging around 500 per day!
Also the folks there have a promo called TAGG it forward and if you purchase a pet tracker you’ll get 10% off and they’ll donate $25 towards our cause.  Sweet.  Just enter 2dogs in the promo code.
Now that the sites are live, you can track the fuzzybutts as they walk the west coast on the awesome micro site TAGG has built for us at  This is my first time using an iPad and I haven’t figured out yet how to hyperlink.  
Thanks to the folks at TAGG & for loaning us one of their teammates Erick who flew up for our launch to walk with us for a few days.  More on that later…  

Though initial path results were favorable, we’re going to do some additional analysis just to be sure, thanks to the advice of our good friends.  
Since the tumor is traveling about now trying to find out who and what it is, it seems a decent thing to give it a name other than, ‘Haired skin and subcutis’.  
BTW – Toomey and Poly are taken.  
We got the pathology report back today: Mast Cell Grade II. Dr. B’s a bad ass diagnostician so it was as we expected.  Now I have to determine how to proceed.  

As I previously wrote, with wide surgical margins Hudsito’s prognosis is favorable. Here’s a pretty good article about grading MC tumors, treatment options, etc. from Washington State.

Had Hudson’s tumor been grade I, my decision would’ve wait and see for recurrence.  I’m not so sure now so I’ll be conferring with a handful of experts before I determine what, if any, the treatment plan is.  
Just as I was driving to Dr. Blackburn’s vet clinic this morning, I was thinking of a funny way to punk everyone about Hudson’s lump on his rump.  I intended to write, ‘Well, it’s bad news for Hudson.  The vet informed us that he’s really a French existentialist with a penchant for Clove cigarettes, berets, beatnik poetry, and menage-a-trois. 

After aspirating the tumor and examining it under the microscope, Dr. ‘B’, as he’s affectionately known, returned to the room and said, ‘I’m 100% sure…’ and I was about to do a ‘Whew’ until he continued…’It’s a mast cell tumor’. 

Hudson has cancer and is under the knife as I write, to remove it.  Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers as there is a chance, ever so slight, that when the tumor is excised, the massive release of histamines from the agitated B cells can be fatal it seems though I’m still trying to process the unprocessable.   

But what we do know is that we won’t know until it’s biopsied what exactly we’re up against nor what the plan is for four or five days.  

I will not be on FB or reachable here at the earliest until the results or back.  Ginger will keep you updated probably here and the 2milliondogs fan page.  However, my blog will chronicle every aspect of Hudson’s cancer.  

I have to go now and learn everything there is to know about mastocytoma.   
I wondered why I’ve had nightmares recently about Highway 40. 

I am inconsolable
So many nights on the road I woke up not knowing where we were or when we were.  That same dazed disorientation has descended upon me since Hudson’s diagnosis yesterday. 
But I’m starting to work my way through this mad, miasmic maze to the stone cold stark reality that Hudson has cancer.  
Shit, didn’t I just give a speech about this the other day?  
‘Oh woe is me’ is the pity party we throw ourselves sometimes but it’s absolutely essential. It means that you care enough to take it on 100%.  200%.  1,000%.  I’m not good with math so I’ll stop here.  
I made many mistakes with Murphy’s cancer and they haunt me still but I own them. There are no ‘do overs’ in life.  
There’s only today and tomorrow.   Tomorrow is Day 2.