Abbey's Road

Although a Georgia animal shelter marked her as a throwaway, Abbey was the absolute sweetest soul. Thankfully, a devoted and passionate rescue group saved her just minutes before her scheduled euthanasia. After being transported to her Virginia foster home, we met Abbey and fell in love. After she and her foster family left, we immediately submitted our adoption application. Before long, we welcomed her home. Finally, Abbey was home. 

The sweet pup often hid her shyness with a smile. She never hid her excitement for sushi or for running through the wildflower gardens with her pack of four rescued rat terrier siblings. She was a bird chaser, and on the rare occasion when she did catch one, she wanted us to be proud of her brave work of protecting our home... her home. She and the gang always reminded us about their nightly 7:30 cookie. It was a favorite, so was dinner, and of course… how could you begin a brand new happy morning without breakfast? She loved big scoops of cottage cheese and neck massages… just under her chin. She also loved sitting in the big chair, directly in front of the window, and watching whatever caught her attention. Napping in her fluffy bed was always a favorite way to spend time, but never with a blanket. And with her big and radiant smile, it was easy to see that her greatest joy was being around those that she loved.

Abbey’s journey carried her across Rainbow Bridge this weekend. The day’s calm and steady rain reminded me so much of Abbey. It was quiet, beautiful, and perfectly melancholy. Smile big and run free, sweet girl. Run free. No more pain. Only love. 

Even with her shyness, Abbey always shared her smile.

Promise to Remember

It has been such a decade. A decade of change, one of growth, and even better… one remembered. After years and years of broken promises to myself, I was tired of all the regular hangovers and living a lie. It was a decade ago when I finally owned my shortcomings with alcohol and committed to a life more fulfilling.

Rather than mentioning a list of academic, personal, and professional accomplishments of the past ten sober years, I think the smiles and the hairdos tell of a far more spirited story. Turning 60 this year was certainly another milestone and is probably a good reason to begin that proverbial bucket list. But instead of following the standard rules, I think I’ll make it enjoyable and use my bucket to collect smiles—lots of them.

Days remembered. Days sober.

Looking back, my last decade was filled with the most incredible blessings, honesty, friendships, and ordinary days that were so much grander than just everyday ordinary. Sobriety is such an essential part of who I am today. It defines me, provides focus, and fills my soul each waking morning. Aside from today being a milestone, I don’t think about it much anymore. And thankfully, I don’t need to, but I’m always aware.

With that said, I revisited those thoughts and sentiments from my first 365-day anniversary that I wrote nine years ago. I’ve shared those below. Much love to each of you as you journey along your memorable path.

Gary

Chasing the Dream and Remembering It

December 30, 2010 - 2010 is nearly over, and with nothing more than clichés to come up with, the time just flew by. With that, it was a remarkable year for me, and I continue to place one foot in front of the next to move with a forward momentum. I'm not sure how else to do it. I continue my push to absorb life along with all of its riches. At least those that are within my reach. And for those that aren't, I work at getting myself closer.

One year ago, I had sincere concerns about my addictive nature and my health. Always being one in control, it was tough to confess to myself that my alcohol addiction had taken control of my long, personally controlled life. Suddenly, for the first time in my life, it wasn't me who was in control. I was scared and doubted that I'd be able to recover. It was time for "me" to make a change in "my" life.

I needed to find a focus. I needed to find me. I needed to believe. I needed to be alive. And, I needed to be sober. 

One day at a time was a huge challenge, and there were days when I wasn't sure I'd make it drink-free. Three hundred and sixty-five days later, I'm one year sober ...and still one day at a time. I'll always be, but I'm up for that challenge. With my decision of a year ago, I'm happier and more at peace with myself than I could ever be. I knew that I had to make a change. I had way too many things yet to do in my life, more goals to attempt, more people to meet, more love to share, more art to live, and another day to celebrate, followed by another, then another, and another. 

Many years ago, I watched as my father crossed the same path in his life. With a strong dedication and belief, he too beat his addictions. And although he died at a young age, his life was made so much fuller because of his taking control of those things that controlled him. 

I can do nothing more than to be true to myself.  With that, I'm another step closer to wherever it is that I'm headed. I don't have a road map or even a schedule... I'm just following my life path and today I'm challenged by it, I revel in it, and more importantly... today, I can see it.

This isn't meant to be "my" personal soapbox or preaching. It just isn't. That's not me. What this is, is an honest recount of where I've been and a true celebration of love, thank yous, and joys for today. 

Life moves forward. Embrace it, love it, and allow it to capture you in its moment.
Peace, health, and joy.

A moment. One decade later.

Caught In The Act

A look of love.

Cody was caught sneaking his muzzle in my coffee cup for the second day in a row. ‬

I’m pretty sure his stare back at me said... “Ohhhh... I didn’t know that was YOUR coffee. I thought for sure it was a miniature ceramic bowl with some handle thingy on the side.... which is really weird, cuz I don’t have thumbs. I saw it just sitting there on the side table... next to your chair. That was too weird, because how in the world would I get to that tiny bowl without standing on the armrest of your favorite leather chair to lap all the goodness from it? I mean…. you placed it there for me to enjoy all by myself. Right?

And yes, Dad... I do, I do, I do love coffee.

How to Create a Forest

Heidi’s first Christmas.

The spirit of Christmas has always filled my heart with hope and love. Becoming a grandfather this year added more zest to my life than I could have ever imagined. I love that child. She fills my soul.

This year, I started a new holiday tradition... all to celebrate Heidi. Each year, our decorations will include a live Christmas tree. Once all the presents are unwrapped and the holidays are complete, I’ll plant each year’s Christmas tree around the ranch.

I look forward to Heidi and me walking around to see all of her trees. Maybe, we’ll even decorate a few each year with glittery jingles, homemade ornaments, and blinking lights. Then the two of us can sit together, celebrate another new year, and watch Heidi’s trees reach just a little closer to the stars than they did the year before.

I love helping Santa.

I hope the holidays fill your soul with love and happiness. Neither requires a fancy ribbon, and they are absolutely the greatest gift you will ever give or receive.

As a side note, since this was the first year of my new holiday tradition, I began this year by purchasing three trees. I couldn't help myself. They were all just too perfect. And technically, one is a rosemary bush tree... a large, beautiful, and fragrant rosemary bush Christmas tree. And c'mon... honestly, how could Heidi and I begin her forest with just one tree?

Merry Christmas, love, and goodness.

A Throwaway

Meet Chipper. He was a throwaway and labeled for euthanasia at the pound before a rescue group rushed in to save him. Someone shot him before the pound picked him up. He was a throwaway. He still had the bullet in his leg when he visited the rescue clinic. The vet surgically removed the bullet, nicknamed him Ammo, and also treated him for a tick-borne illness. He was a throwaway.

Chipper is Home

We met him on an incredibly hot summer afternoon. An hour later, he jumped in the truck and sat next to me. As we drove east, he watched the trees zoom by. Then he'd look at me with his big, excited eyes. He was a throwaway. He was a little nervous about his very first warm water and soapy suds bath. But he soon relaxed as the water ran down his back to his feet and the red clay soil stains on his paws disappeared. He was throwaway.

I named him after the dog my grandfather had when I was a toddler. He was the first dog I have any memory of. I adored my grandfather, and I loved his dog.

Afternoon Naps

Chipper now has his own food bowl and a comfy bed with a fleece blanket. He has four siblings that he runs and plays with for hours around acres of shade trees, singing birds, and mischief squirrels to chase with his gunshot wound limp. He was a throwaway. He enjoys taking naps in the sunshine, walking side by side with me to the studio, and he has a fondness for sweet potato French fries. This pup loves today more than yesterday, even though others kept saying he was just a throwaway.

Meet Chipper. He is finally home. #adoptdontshop #mansbestfriend #meetChipper

A Pup Story. One More Time.

It was one year ago today when she and I took a long ride through the countryside, just for the sake of one more time. I added several more miles to our usual route and also drove a bit slower, all to add a few more minutes of just one more time. She was weak from her years-long battle with cancer, but sat tall with stature and presence as she stared out the open window at every passing tree, signpost, and cloud. Unlike all of our many previous road trips, she took in every moment on that chilly morning. Everyone.

We slowly drove up the lane to our home, where her veterinarian met us.

I cried this morning. Not because today reminds me of a morning drive that we shared a year ago, but because I’m thankful for all of the unselfish strength Pita offered me. Like me, Pita expected order in our home. Her home... and she was dedicated to always keeping her siblings in line. After deciding I wanted to return to school, she sat with me in the quiet light of my home office during long hours and years of study. She had so much patience, helping me through not just one degree, but three. During those years, she was also the one closest to my side when I decided that sobriety was a necessity for me. She never once wavered. She was always there. Always.

That girl also had an impeccable taste in music, too. Or maybe it was her tolerance for my deep appreciation of the eclectic. We were always listening to music. Classic rock, jazz, cocktail lounge, country, not to mention all of those out-of-tune nights of guitar practice. She was good with all of it. Every moment. It was our time together, and we shared plenty of it.

I rescued Pita when she was a puppy, just a few weeks old. Her Dumbo sized, pointy ears outlined and framed her bright eyes. Those ears pointed straight up to the sky. In time, she would finally grow into those pretty ears. Rescuing her and placing her small, round puppy belly on the truck seat on that hot, dusty August afternoon is one of the best things I have ever done.

Life’s path always provides a remarkable way of healing. I recently committed to donating my skills to assist with a non-profit dog rescue organization. This coming weekend, I'm jumping back in my truck to volunteer time and miles for a transportation run to drive a rescued senior pup from a kennel in Georgia to his loving Forever Home in northern Virginia. I have always been a believer in second chances, and I do not doubt that Pita would graciously approve of this weekend's road trip. One more time.

Keep running, pretty girl. I am.