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I fought you for 4,000 miles. And the fight has only begun. #companionsagainstcancer
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.
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.
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?
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
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?
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.
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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.
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.’
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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
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.
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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.
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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….
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