From Deb, Scout, Smudge and me — our heartfelt gratitude to all who reached out to us on learning of Dipstick’s passing. Hundreds of you, publicly via social media and privately in texts, messages, e-mails and phone calls, offered your condolences and shared memories.
We’re humbled by your thoughtfulness.
A few of you actually met Dipstick. Best I can remember, most of those encounters happened over the last several years. If you’re among the unfortunates who met him before that, you can bear witness to the fact that he once was anything but sweet — for the first half of his life, Dipstick was a complete and total asshole.
Chronic illness changed him. And later, after a chunk of tire blocked his intestine (he was part billy goat) and took him to death’s door, he became unfailingly and irresistibly affectionate.
If his disposition can spin around 180 degrees, I guess there’s hope for us all. Even assholes can be redeemed.
The sudden loss has hit us hard. It’s no exaggeration to say that we’re reeling. Whether or not others would react this way to such a thing doesn’t concern us — this is our world. We decide what’s important to us. Our dogs’ lives, love and companionship don’t take a back seat to anything.
We make no apologies.
We’ll get through this. We’ll go on. Scout, Smudge, and our American Life on The Mountain have our full attention.
Thanks again to everyone who showed that they give a shit about all that.
Dipstick didn’t have his own Facebook page, like Smudge does, but oh, did he ever have fans. Folks’ love for the little guy was evident in the tributes that poured in.
One especially artistic friend even created an angelic image of The ‘Stick, striking a vigilant pose in the window of the motorhome.
Last night, Deb and I flipped through pictures of our dear boy, swapped stories, shed tears, and laughed. In fact, we laughed a lot — Dipstick was the sort of critter that inspired laughter.
“Yknow, of all the dogs I’ve had,” Deb said as we got ready for bed, “he’s by far the coolest dog I’ve ever known.”
No disrespect to our girl Scout or Miss Smudge, of course, or to any of the many dogs I’ve known and loved in my life, but I’d have to agree.
The past is my measure, not my millstone. I look back to remember what’s worth remembering, but more than anything else I use the past to gauge my advance. Only by casting the occasional hindward glance can I fairly judge my progress.
One year ago yesterday, I wrote this:
“We walked over ground that’s become familiar, certainly, and yet it felt like we were seeing it for the first time. Fluttering yellow flags we’d left there 18 months ago triggered memories of when it all started.”
“Deb and I stood on The Mountain this afternoon and swore an oath to be true to our vision. This is our Home and we’ll do it our way. We’ll continue to solicit advice from smart and experienced folks, and then we’ll make our own decisions. From here on out this is our show.”
Two days earlier we called an abrupt halt to work on The Mountain. We’d wandered too far down a path that appealed to neither of us. And we didn’t have the funds to take another step.
All we had left was our original vision and an unshakable commitment to doing whatever it took to bring it to life.
A year ago tomorrow, we took a deep breath and bought a tired fifth-wheel travel trailer. A month later, it was towed up The Mountain. Five weeks after that, we moved in.
And here we are.
I look back over my shoulder now and smile. We came from the brink of futility 12 months ago to a satisfying (if unconventional) Life. We’ve found our place and we’ve found our rhythm.
We made it to this point by sheer force of will.
I know all this because I took a moment to measure how far we’ve traveled. I didn’t spend one second dwelling on decisions we made before April 20th, 2023. What’s important to me, to us, is what we’ve done since.
A crucial part of our pact last year was this:
“From here on out this is our show.”
We are, in point of fact, indifferent to the judgment, disapproval and uninformed opinions of others. Anyone who wants to counsel or contribute is welcome, provided they have the emotional maturity to recognize who’s in charge and aren’t offended when (not if) we don’t follow their advice as if Moses trucked it down from Mount Sinai.
Because we’ve kept faith with that promise to ourselves, we’ve made tons more progress since last April than we would’ve otherwise. And when we look around the homestead today, what pleases us most are products of our own independent, unilateral, defiant choices.
That’s a clue that we’re on the right track.
We don’t know everything, nor can we do everything ourselves. What we do know is what we want.
No one else can say that. No one can change that.
So raise a glass — here’s to the last year. May the progress continue.
Volunteer of the Day: Smooth sumac (Rhus glabra).
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB