Miles to Go Before I Sleep

Recently my good friend, sous chef (she hates it when I call her that), and the princess of pastries –  Valerie – her dog Sydney went from seemingly happy, healthy, full of life and love to lethargic with loss of appetite. 
An ultrasound Tuesday revealed a 17 cm mass in her spleen with possible liver involvement.  Valerie had to make the heartwrenching decision most of us have had to make but in a fraction of a moment.  Once hemangiosarcoma is suspected, time is of the absolute essence.  
For Sydney, 13 years old though a spirited lass by all accounts, the clock was ticking.  Valerie opted to spare no effort to save her life.  
Her surgeon, Dr. Taylor, successfully performed the splenectomy and a liver lobectomy as well as removing an intestinal tumor that wasn’t evident through the ultrasound and I’m happy to report that Sydney has made it to Day 2 of postoperative care.  Though her status still guarded, hopefully Sydney can go home today and be with her mother.  
Three times I’ve gone through this personally with Malcolm, Murphy, and Hudson and I’ve been by the side of many friends with dogs with cancer.  That is one of my jobs. I awakened early this morning relieved by the promising news of Sydney’s condition but reminded of a poem by Robert Frost.
“Whose woods these are I think I know.   
His house is in the village though;   
He will not see me stopping here   
To watch his woods fill up with snow.   
My little horse must think it queer   
To stop without a farmhouse near   
Between the woods and frozen lake   
The darkest evening of the year.   
He gives his harness bells a shake   
To ask if there is some mistake.   
The only other sound’s the sweep   
Of easy wind and downy flake.   
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   
But I have promises to keep,   
And miles to go before I sleep,   
And miles to go before I sleep.”
——–
YBD’s Notes 1: I want to thank Valerie for her courage in not only fighting to save her girl’s life against all odds but for allowing me to share Sydney’s story.  She just isn’t able to speak about it yet but she knows I must.  
YBD’s Notes 2:  Nearby is a pic of Sydney with my Puppy Up neck gaiter I gave her to keep her warm.  Isn’t she a beaut?  
YBD’s Notes 3: Perhaps the main reason we got Sydney into the vet before her spleen ruptured is by noticing her distended belly which will be added to our list of early warning signs of cancer.  
YBD’s Notes 4: BTW Sydney is NOT a boy (inside joke).

#NothingElseMatters

After pitching a tent in a grove of Eucalyptus Trees along the Elkhorn Slough of the Pacific Coast Highway just outside of Moss Landing – there’s a video somewhere about it- , a song got caught in my head and like some things on our journey, I didn’t understand its significance at that moment.  
Invariably life is reduced down to one step, one song, one mile, one moment, and even just a snuggle, all of which inspire us.  To keep going.  
Nothing Else Matters  
The more ironical thing is – I’m not sure if I ever heard this song before the slough so why did it resound relentlessly in my tent that night?   
Maybe the love of a child never needs a rationalization no matter the kind and that’s the message.

Does Anything Else Matter?

#NotMyPresidentDay

It’s president’s day but I’m in no mood for celebration.  
Oh it’s not because I’m not a patriot as I believe in values like freedom and equality – all of the things that we’ve fought for as a country. That I’ve walked for.
But we have a fight of a different kind now and we’ve been abandoned by our leaders.     
This blog is about the funding for the National Cancer Institute (NCI), this government’s, our government’s, decade long disregardment of, what the World Health Organization called the deadliest disease in 2010 and nothing else.   
Let’s take a look at the numbers.  They represent the total budget of NCI in billions of dollars.
2000 $3.3
2001 $3.8
2002 $4.2
2003 $4.6
2004 $4.7
2005 $4.8
2006 $4.8
2007 $4.8
2008 $4.8
2009 $5.0
2010 $5.1
2011 $5.1
2012 $5.1
2013 $4.8  
Let me give you some context.  This past fiscal year, the current administration earmarked $6.3 billion for Ebola virus research, a disease that affected, what, 1 or 2 people in the US and yet 1/2 of all men and 1/3 of women will be diagnosed with cancer. Nevermind the 2-4 million dogs that develop the same types of cancer every year. Why?
But I get it – it’s politically expedient. Ebola grabs headlines.  
On my first walk, I met with a few legislators and lobbyists and what they said was, ‘Great cause, just get a spokesperson and a celebrity around it and then we’ll listen.’ And so I walked the entire expanse of the West Coast in search of someone who would stand up. No one did.  
Even though celebrities talk about how devoted they are to animal causes.  
In my little world of walking 4k miles for this cause, you get tired of those that just talk and talk
which is why I’ve walked the walk. No one has the right to present themselves as a dog lover unless they stand up to the number one killer of dogs. Cancer.  
I return to DC in June without a celebrity or a spokesperson.   I am no longer a naif.  Having witnessed all of the death I have from cancer I will stand up and be heard.

Reflections on 4000 Miles

Divers have to decompress before resurfacing and the greater the depth of the dive the longer the decompression. I’ve pretty much been unplugged and down and out right disconnected since the completion of the West Coast Walk because I needed to.  
But I haven’t just been making angels in the tons of snow that’s blanketed CT – tho Hudsy and Nanners (nice snow stache BTW) have – I’ve been deep in reflection on the enormity my accomplishments but more importantly how to tell it.  The right way.  
The story’s the thing.  
Beginning March 16th, the 7th anniversary of the start of the first walk, I’ll be posting a seven part interview with Yer Big Dog wherein which I will talk not only about the great and the glory of this grand adventure but the trials and tribulations, too.  From the fantastic people we’ve met on our path to the fantastical things we’ve experienced.  
And we’re making it interactive.  I’ve gotten thousands of questions over the expanse of our journey and haven’t always been able to answer all of them so also we’re opening this up to you.  If you have something you’d like to personally ask YBD, send me an email by Feb 15th.  Not via FB or TW or in a comment here.  Hopefully we can get it and we’ll try our best because I have a lot to say.  Over 4,000 miles and 1,044 days, I’ve walked the walk now it’s time to talk the talk.  #4000miles

The Anatomy of Graying

I recently aged 44 and while I’ve never been one overly preoccupied with age, my chest hair turned gray.  First of all, unlike Geraldo, I spare you a selfie proving it.

But there’s a bigger philosophical if not medical question involved here – why does hair gray differently?

I grayed first in my head hair which jokingly I attributed to my first cross county walk.  My beard came next but now it’s trickled its way down to my chest which I can only blame the PCH for.

But it’s only a few gray hairs which I hope means I still got game.  How and why does hair gray is my question today?

Love Actually

I often joke that after Malcolm died I sold my truck and put my stuff into storage but it wasn’t just a soundbyte.  Nothing I do or say ever is.

But after almost a decade, tucked away on the I-35 corridor in a 10×10 closet, it was time for a reckoning. That’s an interesting word.  Reckoning.

Its origin can be found in old English which gave rise to such concepts of calculation and conclusion.

2014 is the 10 year anniversary since Malcolm was first diagnosed.  How many miles, how many years have I walked since then?  How many people have we touched and inspired?  How many lifelong friendships have we forged?

It’s incalculable.  Just like love.

Another true joke is that in short order, in 2004 my dog got cancer, my girlfriend left me and she took the truck.  The pathetic irony is well, I’m from Texas.  But that year I was all alone I watched a movie Love Actually.

You see, I’m the last person to watch romantic comedies or really anything to do with Hugh Grant but it spoke to me about the messiness of life and love and how little I knew about it all.  But I’ve watched it every year since and today is no different.

Happy XMAS.  Love actually.

——–

YBD’s Notes 1:  There was a reckoning tho – I cleaned out my storage locker most of which ended up in a landfill, the rest I’ve given away to friends and family.  I am unencumbered.  Except by love. 

No More

It was no choice
That set this course

Astep, astride
The road abides

And through its length
I cried,

‘Oh beauty burns
Your trail etern.

The silence of your roar
That swept me neath

No more. No more.’

——–

YBD’s Notes1:  The west coast walk was long and hard, harder than any stretch of the road we’ve been on before.  But the much bigger lesson here is we’re in this together if we have a ghost of a chance to eradicate cancer in us and our companions in our lifetime, puppy up damnit

YBD’s Notes2:  Happy XMAS

We Made It Murphy

At 11;30 PST, in the shadows of the Laguna mountains we walked the length of Coronado Island to the edge of Oneonta slough and Hudson, Indiana and I completed our border to border West Coast walk.  
And like most of our Southern  California days, it was sunny and 70.  Indeed, it was a glorious day.  

And like all great endings one not without its comedic twists, cosmic ironies, and poignant moments. 

The morning began with a seven mile hike to the meeting place for our Final Mile which Ginger joined us though I’d quickly learn less for the honor and privilege of partaking in such a powerful experience but more for showing off her new kilt.  Really Ginger???  There can be only One Who Rocks The Kilt…

A couple dozen friends met us to walk the final mile, some we had met along our travels, some were new.  But to my utter shock and surprise, two of my oldest and dearest friends were there:  Jim and Renee with Tripawds.  Man was that way awesome.  And it made a circle round.  You see, they were in Austin to launch our first walk and now at the ending of our second.  Yep I got all choked up. Thanks for the avocados guys – only noticed yesterday you put them in a poop bag.  Hee hee.

Inspired by another of our friends, John Stalls, who walked from Delaware to San  Francisco, I had hoped to jump into the Pacific Ocean to punctuate our tremendous accomplishment but was greeted by this sign.  Apparently Tijuana thinks the slough is a dumping ground for their sewage sludge.  Precise opposite of the pristine Canadian border where began our adventure but the two constants throughout all of it were mountains to east and the ocean at our west.  And my companions by my side.  And that includes not only Indiana who made the entire trek but Hudson who made it to the California border and Malcolm and Murphy in spirit.  

——–
There are so many people to extend great thanks to – the friends we made along our path, kind and courteous strangers, and even the idiot drivers who although from no lack of trying, didn’t kill us on the PCH.  Walking through and across 19 states now, I know of no more treacherous stretch of road.
Thanks to my team and all of the volunteers who helped out in various capacities to ensure our safe passage and make this experience matter, to those who walked the virtual final mile with us, and to our sponsors.  
I have lots of thanking and reflecting to do in the coming weeks but without a moment’s rest, I leave now for Texas to catch up on a lot of work, rest a bit, and spend a week with family….

#GoFuzzybuttsGo

Twelve days til touchdown in San Diego.  We made it to LA and ironically, we’ve had only four rains days the entire West Coast walk, through Washington, Oregon, and Northern California and the week we arrive in LA, we’re greeted by a monsoon.  
Completely drenched in Malibu and now navigating around mudslides and flooding, we’re making our way through the 75 mile swath that is the LA area.  
Still, we’ve been trudging onward in the dreary drizzly, record breaking rainstorm sharing the message and spreading holiday cheer, the nearby pic was walking on Rodeo Drive, 
We’re on schedule to walk the final mile to the Mexico border Sunday December 14th and our friends are making final plans for the day’s events.  Between now and then we have a couple of events planned leading up to the final mile:  
Saturday Dec 6th.  4-6PM.  The Shore Break Hotel. For details, 714-465-4528.  
Tuesday Dec 9th. 2-4PM. VMSG. 31896 Plaza Dr. San Juan Capistrano.  
It’s been great having folks coming out and walking with us on our final stretch. To find out where you can join us for a mile or a day on our historic trek, the following sites will be posting our locations: 
www.facebook.com/PuppyUpFoundation
www.2dogsAgainstCancer.com
Or on my Instagram – 2dogs2000miles.  And on Twitter hashtag #GoFuzzybuttsGo

Surviving Southern California

Most days I feel like I’m a strange man in a strange land especially since I’m a Texan wearing a skirt for the entire length of the west coast.
We’ve made the coastal turn to the SoCal Bight somewhere around Point Conception, it’s an inflection point – a concavity actually, that naturally delineates between central and Southern California.  
But it’s more than that.  It’s the point at which the cold coastal waters start to warm and the tides begin to downwell.  Too warm for the sweet succulent Dungeness crab.  
The mid afternoon fog banks that roll in almost on schedule to cool us down no more.  Where the sun hovers over the Pacific Ocean all day long and days like today which confuses the hell outta me since there’s gotta be shade at some point throughout the day.  I mean – ‘rise in the east set in the west’ thing I once learned.
The turn also marks the final descent to our seventh month west coast walk.  I write this from our tent, technically in Malibu but only a mile or so south of Neptune’s net where I had my thanksgiving meal – a disastrous tale for another time.
Heck I’m just thankful that we made it this far alive. I recently met a cyclist who travelled most of what we just did save 20 to Newport OR, 154 into SB & a few other crazy dangerous stretches & he said what the hell were you thinking?
Well, we just gotta get to LA was my answer.  Isn’t that the crux of the west coast?  The hub of the hubbub out here?  
We’re almost there – mere days away.  Keep hoping Ellen is there to greet us.  Or at least the kardashians aren’t cuz we’re too tired to turn back.
——–

YBD’s Notes:  I put the last paragraph in there to, in my own way, thank everyone who’ve tried to get us on the Ellen Show.  As I have learned along the way ‘Les chiens ne font pas des chats’. 
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