Will's Hurting Today

He's home...right where he should be.

Will collapsed this morning.

 We were just starting out on a walk next to the Saco River and he was doing his old man shuffle, moving along easily enough, showing no signs of wear or tear, but taking his time.  I remember thinking how happy I was for him to finally start moving like a dog. When he first arrived and he had to go to the bathroom he took one long pee, perhaps he wasn't allowed to take his time in the past.  But today, finally, instead of only getting to go outside and taking one long squirt, he become more like he should be.  He stopped and sniffed and peed, then did it again, and again.  It's was a good sign. Then, probably 150 yards into our walk, he stumbled to one side and fell as a horse might, keeping his head up but having his legs betray him.  He struggled to get up, stumbled, and fell again.  I helped him up, but he fell again and this time he just lay on his side looking at me and groaning.
 

I carried him to the car and we brought him around the corner to Christine O'Connell, our local vet.
 

Atticus doesn't pay much attention to Will, or any other dog, and he's not a growler, but something interesting happened this morning when we were sitting in the waiting room at Christine's office: Atti beside me, and Will on my lap, his head rested in the crook of my elbow, just inches from Atti's face, and his full body weight - the weight of trust - leaning into me.  In walked a huge Italian mastiff.  Atticus looked at him, bared his teeth, and started growling.  The hackles on his neck raised and I tried to calm him down but he'd have none of it.
 

I won't pretend to know what dogs are thinking but I swear he was protecting Will and making sure the other dog knew to stay away.  The dog sat at the far end of the room with his family and only then did Atticus stop growling.

Christine thinks that Will has either had a stroke or something known as Old Dog's Vestibular Disease.  It masks a stroke but the dog gets better within a few days.  If it's O.D.V.D., he'll get better and there won't be much of a worry. But if it's a stroke and he doesn't improve. . . . well, a tough decision will have to be made.  There's no way of knowing which one it is at this time. So we'll just wait and see. 

Currently Will is where he belongs.  We brought him home to take care of him. He's sleeping soundly and we'll watch over him him.  Christine O'Connell is on call throughout the weekend and she's only minutes away should we need her. 

A couple of friends already know what's happened and they're heartbroken about it, especially since Will was doing so well.  Heck, this morning he wanted to play at 2:00 and then again at 5:30, but this is why we brought him here.  I wanted Will to live out his days in a place where he felt loved.  I wanted him to have a home.  I knew what we were getting into and whether the end comes within days, or years, we've already accomplished that.    He knows he is loved.  He knows he has a home. This much I know is true.

 

Of course none of this stops the tears from welling up while I hold him today.

Following Will

William two weeks ago.

Two weeks ago I was in Eastern Mountain Sports looking at child-carrying backpacks.  You see, Atticus and I were adopting William, a fifteen year old miniature schnauzer who was dropped off at a kill shelter and saved by the good souls at the New Jersey Schnauzer Rescue Network.  I knew by the photograph I’d seen of William he had cataracts and coupled with his age I felt pretty confident he would not be able to hike a mountain.  And yet I wanted him to experience what it was like to stand on top of a peak, feel the wind in his face, breathe the clean air, and gaze out at the sea of breaking waves the mountains resemble as they fade off into the horizon – even through cloudy eyes.  I wanted him to experience the wonder Atticus and I have grown to call life. 

But things rarely work out was we plan them.

When Atticus and I picked up William in Connecticut we got even less than I bargained for.  He was a dog with arthritic hips and had a difficult time standing.  He was mostly blind and mostly deaf.  He didn’t want to be picked up and attempted to bite anyone who did so.  One of my thoughts was that there was no way the poor fellow would live very long.

Whatever hopes I had for him sitting on top of some peak on his own or in a backpack were dashed.  The poor old guy couldn’t even sit – he’d just flop down due to lack of strength – and there was no way he’d let me put him in a carrier. 

I’ve never much liked limitations and I reserve a greater dislike for people who foist their own upon others.  But here was an old dog coming with plenty of his own.  Physically limited, emotionally lost.  He was abandoned, frightened, heartbroken (I imagined), and understandably angry. 

So Atticus and I simply let William be William.  Over the first few days there was a lot of anger and obstacles to deal with.  We live on the second floor and there are quite a few stairs to climb and poor William couldn’t manage a single one of them with his hips.  A harness helped him get down the stairs but I resorted to carrying him up to our apartment and each time he’d fight me wildly and try to bite me. 

Luckily I live with Atticus, who has the patience of Job, and he allowed William a wide birth. I found my patience by imagining Atticus in William’s position.  If he was fifteen and in poor health and something happened to me so that we couldn’t be together ever again, he would be just as terrified as William.  Just as lost, just as hurt.  And this theme stayed in my heart whenever it started to break.  That, and the simplest and best of lessons: the old “Golden Rule” – treat others as you wish to be treated.

One of my friends met William during those first few days and raised his eyebrows.  “Hate to say it, Tom, but you made a mistake. I know you mean well but that old guy should have been put to sleep.”

I looked at him and asked, “If the tables were turned, how would you handle it?”

“I told you the other day, I wouldn’t have adopted him.  It’s not fair to you or Atticus.”

“No,” I said. “What I meant was what if you were in Will’s place?  What if you were in poor health, couldn’t see or hear, had the only home and the only family you’d ever known ripped away from you and you were put in a cage to die on your own unless someone took you home.  What would you have me do then?”

He didn’t say anything.  Instead he squatted, let Will sniff his hand, and gently ran his fingers over Will’s head.

As for my hopes of Will being able to hike?  He may never climb a mountain, not a real one anyway, but I’m reminded every day that in life we all have our own mountains to climb.  And yet some regular gentle exercise has strengthened those back hips.  Metacam and Dasaquin help with the pain and stability. Now when he goes to jump up to play with me his hips no longer betray him when he lands.  This gives him even more confidence. 

Just a couple of days of ago, just over twenty-four hours after a lengthy and much needed dental appointment where anesthesia was used, Will went on his first hike.  For Atticus and me it wasn’t very far at all.  It wouldn’t be far for many people for it was only a mile stroll through the woods along the Saco River.  But it was a sight to behold.  Will following Atticus, albeit slowly, but looking better than he had a week ago, stopping to sniff, and simply enjoy his surroundings.  When we came to a small tree that had fallen across the trail, however, he was stopped in his tracks.  I waited to see what he would do and he just looked up at me and this little dog that used to try to bite me let me kneel next to him and place each of his front paws on the fallen tree.  Then I placed one on the other side and used his harness to help him get over it. 

On our return trip to the car, when we came to that same log, Will stopped and looked up at me again. This time I dropped his leash and stepped over the obstacle and stood on the other side and waited.  Atticus, had stopped, too, and came back to sit next to me and we watched  Will together. After a moment of thought Will hopped over it and trotted to my arms. 

Like I said, we all have our own mountains to climb.  And Will is climbing them, as Paige Foster, Atticus’s breeder would say in her southern twang, “…by the wagonload!”

As wonderful as our little hike in the woods was, it was another journey that impressed me even more.  Five days after Will arrived he traveled down to the Grappone Center in Concord for the annual dinner of the Concord-Merrimack County SPCA.  Atticus and I were the featured guests and I had not intended to bring Will, but that morning something had clicked and he seemed to understand that he had found a home with us and I didn’t want to leave him behind. 

That night, when Atticus and I stood up on stage and I finished telling our story, someone asked me what our next adventure was.  I excused myself, left the stage for a moment, and returned with Will.    

Once lost Will sat comfortably in my arms, next to Atticus who was on a table. I told everyone about his journey and when I was done there was Will pushing his little body against mine, looking out with those old eyes at 360 people as they stood for him in unison and gave him a rousing ovation. 

Oh, I know it was for the three of us, but I think of Will and see his gleaming face, his eyes looking brighter than I’d seen them, his little pink tongue hanging out of his smiling mouth.  He was as dog left behind not two weeks before and now he glowed in a room full of admiration and affection. 

And so it is that those who we lift up can lift up so many others.  And you don’t have to be able to see more than shapes or shadows or stand on top of a mountain to appreciate the view . . . or the love.  

Will’s story is one of redemption. He gives us all hope. He teaches and we learn by following him. It is never too late to love nor too late to be loved.

I cannot help but think of Tennyson's Ulysses when it comes to Will and the last chapter of his life.  But more importantly, there is more to be written.
Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.          

Will today.

A Sense of Self

Today is a good day.

There’s always something to be grateful for but this morning something extra special transpired. 

The most satisfying compliment I receive about Atticus is when people talk about his sense of self.  He knows who he is and what he wants.  There is rarely any place he is uncomfortable.  He could be on stage in front of more than 300 people as he will be tonight, walking leashless through strange cities during our book tour, or caught in a blizzard during a 23-mile trek across the Bonds.  It doesn’t matter.  So long as we’re together he is fine.

Atticus’s sense of self is the reason we were able to adopt Will, a fifteen year old Miniature Schnauzer with serious health issues this week.  People are funny and bring their own scars to their observations.  Some predicted Atticus would be jealous or angry or resentful.  Others hoped that he and Will would become fast friends.  I know Atticus well enough to know neither would be true.  He wouldn’t become friends with Will, and neither would he shun him.  He’d simply let him be and allow him to work out whatever he needs to work out.  Atticus has done just that.  He’s respectful, patient, even gentle.  Never does he approach him and if Will approaches him, Atticus simply allows him to sniff away and then move on. 

I believe it’s all because of his sense of self.

When we picked up Will on Sunday in Connecticut I saw a dog on the opposite end of the spectrum.  I was literally stunned by his poor condition.  His hips were fragile and weak, his eyes ineffective, his ears equally so.  On top of that he was edgy, frightened, insecure, and at times aggressive.  He didn’t want to be picked up and one time when I was helping him out his car he latched hold of my thumb and took a good bite.  At the moment blood was trickling out of my thumb between his clenched teeth I didn’t pull back, I didn’t react at all other than to use my other hand to gently pat his head and tell him it was okay. 

I didn’t blame Will for being fearful and protecting himself.  Hell, I would have been the same way.  I don’t know much about his past or how he was treated.  Form what I hear he lived with the same family for fifteen years and when the fellow he lived with grew too old to take care of himself or Will, the little dog was dropped off at a shelter in New Jersey. 

I can’t even blame the gentleman who did this for I don’t know his state of mind and or even if he understood it was a kill shelter.  Luckily, the shelter contacted the New Jersey Schnauzer Rescue Network and they jumped in to save what many considered an unadoptable dog.  Through their efforts he was placed in a foster home.  His picture was placed on their website and one of our Facebook friends posted the link to William on our Following Atticus page praying someone would give him a home. 

There are many reasons why I decided to adopt Will – too many to go into here – but suffice it to say I wanted him to have the opportunity to live out his life in dignity.  I knew he would most likely be frail and by the photo I could tell he had cataracts.  I also knew that Atticus would react in an understanding manner.  He would simply handle it as Atticus handles everything – by being himself – and this would help Will do just that.

By the time Will was sinking his teeth into my hand he had been delivered from the shelter to the foster home to various members of the NJSRN for transport.  He’d been passed off, then saved, then handed over like a baton.  All this was wonderful for it saved his life, but I’m sure Will didn’t see it this way.  I know I wouldn’t if it was me.  I’d be confused and frightened.  I feel betrayed and abandoned.  I’d feel like my life was stolen from me. 

There have been challenges thus far.  Will is frail and needs to go to the bathroom quite often.  If I’m not paying attention he goes on the floor but we’ve come to an understanding about that and I know when to get him outside and how often.  He doesn’t do well on the stairs and we live on the second floor and each step can be slick to his weakened back legs, but he doesn’t like being picked up.  So during the first day I just spent a lot of time sitting on the floor with Will while leaning back against the couch.  Atticus sat on the couch with his head resting on my shoulder as I worked my hands tenderly over Will.

On the car ride back from Connecticut I noticed his ears perked up with certain kinds of music and I wondered what kind of memories they held for him.  Music is often playing in our home but now there’s more classical than there was before and some opera with female voices, which he seems to like.  Not knowing how bad his hearing is, only that he rarely responds to my voice, I thought of Beethoven, who was deaf when he composed his Ninth Symphony and legend has it he cut the legs off of his piano and put his ear to the floor so he could feel the vibration.  I placed a small speaker attached to my iPhone on the floor near where Will likes to sleep and I hope he can feel the vibrations.  He seems to like it. 

Within twenty-four hours Will let me pick him up.  Within 72 hours he understood he needs to be carried up the stairs and he now stops and puts his front paws on the first step and I pass my hand under his nose to let him know it’s me and I softly cradle his brittle body.  He grunts out of joint pain now and no longer growls.  And when we get upstairs and I put him down he becomes playful.  He dances around like a little drunken leprechaun, and when he comes running towards me he attempts to stand on his hind legs and push me with his front paws (think of the way Elaine Benes used to shove Jerry on Seinfeld) but his hips are so weak they give out and he topples over (hence the drunken leprechaun).  That doesn’t stop him from wanting to play, however.  But he simply doesn’t have the strength to hold himself up.  

Occasionally he’ll find himself near the coffee table and when he wants my attention he’ll pull himself up and put his weight on his front legs and stare at me as if he has something to say. 

As for walks, it’s an advantage to have Atticus off leash so he can go at his pace while Will and I go at his.  He’s grown used to his harness and seems to find comfort in the connection it gives us.  On Wednesday we took our time walking in the woods along an earthen path.  Every now and again Atticus would return to make sure we were okay – and we were.  We were simply going at Will’s pace.  When all was said and done I realized we’d actually walked a mile.  I wondered how tired he would be, or how sore.  But when we returned home and I carried him up the stairs there was that same drunken leprechaun charging at me with a wide open mouth, but no longer to bite as he did that first day, but to play. 

Some have noted in his pictures that Will now looks like a puppy and he does.  He plays like one, too.  The only difference is that after fifteen minutes of playing he needs to sleep for a few hours.  He finds one of the dog beds I have around our home or plops down on the carpet and when he’s asleep I cover his old, bony body with a blanket to keep him warm. 

Atticus and I lead a pretty boring life.  We love our privacy, music often plays in the house, comforting scents drift from the crockpot, and candles flicker.  I sit and read and Atticus sits next to me.  And now Will often sleeps on my feet.  When we’re outside, it’s a different story, of course.  Atticus and I take full advantage of Will’s numerous naps to get plenty of exercise at a faster pace. 

And through it all I cannot believe it’s only been five days.  So much has transpired.  So much has transformed. 

This morning we went to Christine O’Connell’s office for Will’s first vet visit.  I wasn’t sure how he would handle it since he’s sore in numerous places and many dogs do not like going to the vets.  But a most wonderful thing happened.  Will walked to the door with me, got on the scale when I showed him where it was, then walked calmly to the front desk with me.  When another dog came in he acknowledged him and they sniffed each other in a friendly fashion. 

Christine greeted him on the floor and when I lifted him up to the table he was kind and gentle and let them pull and prod him in places that couldn’t have felt good.  His teeth are rotten and he badly needs a cleaning, his ears are extremely sensitive and need a deep cleaning as well, his hips – his poor hips are weak and under-exercised.  And yet throughout it all there stood Will, his blurry eyes looking right into mine as I cradled him. 

When we left the office he was calm and confident as we walked to the car together and when I looked down at him I had to smile at him for I saw something in him I’d not seen that first day.  It was a calm yet warm sense of self – a sense of belonging and of being loved. 

He has come a long way in the past ten days: pulled from his home, placed in a kill shelter, and feeling frightened to feeling right at home – to feeling like there is no place he shouldn’t be at ease. 

I believe the greatest gift we can give another is the ability to be themselves.  It’s amazing what can happen when you allow another to simply be who they are. 

I have no illusions about Will.  Never have.  I understand he’s come to live out his days with us and that no matter how much time is left it will break my heart to see him go.  But days like this…well, I think this is what heaven is like – to give the gift of life and dignity. 

Five days ago we took in a frightened, angry, and lost soul.  Today we walked out of Christine O’Connell’s office as friends. 

As I write this I have a tears of happiness welling up in my eyes for I have one friend who will never be abandoned with his head resting against my hip, and another who was lost and has now been found with his head on my feet. 

Limited Edition Map of the 4,000-Footers of the White Mountains

Atticus M. Finch with his pawtograph and a copy of the map.

Here it is! The beautiful map of the 48 4,000-foot peaks of New Hampshire created by Jackson, NH artist Kathy Speight Kraynak for our book Following Atticus: Forty-Eight High Peaks, One Little Dog, and an Extraordinary Friendship. 

When I approached Kathy about doing a map for the end papers of our book I told her I wanted something reminiscent of Tolkien's maps but at the same time different.  I wanted her to create something that would give the viewer a sense of the quest and yet have it be geographically accurate.  When I saw what she had come up with I was stunned.  It was perfect and better than anything that I had imagined. 

Since the book has come out a multitude of readers have asked if there was somewhere they could get a copy of the map.  Until now they couldn't. 

However, Kathy has created a stunning reproduction of the black and white print measuring 18" x 12" on 80# felt stock.  These prints look superb matted and framed in a standard 16' x 20" frame.

We decided we wanted to do something different with the maps and so we've made a limited edition of 250 hand-numbered prints signed by both author and artist, more importantly they carry Atticus M. Finch's 'pawtograph'.  And better yet, a portion of each sale will go to the Animal Rescue League of New Hampshire - North, our local animal shelter lovingly run by Virginia Moore. 

Each print is $30 and includes shipping and handling and there are two ways to purchase.  You can order directly through Kathy's website kathyspeightkraynak.com or you can pay by check.  If you wish to pay by check please make it payable to Kathy Speight Kraynak and mail it to P.O. Box 441, Jackson, NH 03846.   

A Knock On the Door

It's a sleepy morning here in the mountains as the rain taps on the metal roof of our home. Birds sing nevertheless and their symphony tells me the weather's not a problem for them. Some mornings when it rains I welcome it, as this morning. Such mornings are cozy and cool and made for getting work done inside. There's always writing, and cooking, and cleaning. These are things that take a back seat when we are hiking. And when it rains it makes me look forward to how lush the trees and grass will look in the coming days. And, of course, on days we're inside I often trace my finger over the memory of our last hikes, and start to plan our next ones.

Atticus and I have never been up Table Mountain and it was recently suggested to me by a friend. I always enjoy a new peak, it brings with it the excitement and trepidation of being someplace for the first time, of having faith the trail will bring you where you need to go and the sights you will see will be well worth the journey. One of the pleasures of a new peak is a new angle on things.

The first 4,000-footer Atticus and I ever climbed was Mount Garfield and we saw it soon after again as we walked along the top of Franconia Ridge. But later that summer, when we came from the east and hiked over North and South Twin, I was stunned by the new angle and view of Garfield. At first I didn't know which dramatic new peak we were looking at. It's a lot like seeing a friend in a new light, an exciting light. It's his or her beauty in a way you’re completely unaccustomed to. So next week we'll do Table Mountain and see what treasures await us.

But first we'll be taking a trip up Black Cap in North Conway. It's a simple hike...an easy hike. At 2,369 feet it offers great views but the trail to the top is relatively easy since you can drive up Hurricane Mountain Road and get all but about 500 feet of elevation gain out of the way. And the walk is relatively short. It's about two and a half miles for the round trip. It's so easy that we often do it for our morning or afternoon walk without planning ahead.

So why would I be looking forward to doing Black Cap in the near future? Why would I be planning ahead for something that doesn't typically take much planning?

Well, one of the pleasures I have in being in the mountains and knowing them as well as Atticus and I do is on occasion we have the ability to introduce a stranger to them and I love to see the transformation, no matter how temporary or lasting it is, come over the face of one who has never been here. And Black Cap is a perfect introductory hike. After all, there are some who might not be able to do anything more than this and its astounding views allow that new soul to be renewed without too much effort. Sometimes it's enough to plant a seed to make someone wish for me, and at other times it's simply more beautiful than anything else they've ever seen and that’s enough in itself.

In our case, the latter is most likely true.

You see, Atticus and I are getting ready to introduce and elderly fellow to the mountains. He's from New Jersey and in all his years he's never been here. I don't think he can do much but I'm hoping we can get him to the top of Black Cap so he can look through the clouds of his cataracts and see the views he's never seen before. Now that will be a gift he'll never forget. He'll feel as though he's been born again and his world will change - as do all of ours when we see the world from the top of a mountain for the first time.

There is another reason I'm enjoying today's rain - there's much to be done to get ready for our house guest. You see, the life Atticus and I lead is about to change a great deal.

This week, on our Following Atticus Facebook page, a friend posted that since we now have 6,000 'friends' following our journey on-line on a daily basis, she wondered if someone could possibly help out another who was down on his luck and homeless. His name is William and he's a fifteen year old miniature schnauzer who was dropped off at a kill shelter in New Jersey. Now if you know shelters, a fifteen year old doesn't stand much of a chance of being adopted so William's prospects didn't look so good. Seems the gentleman that had him for all of those years could no longer take care of himself or William so I imagine he did the only thing he knew to do and dropped William off at the shelter. Not even sure if he knew William would be put to sleep if no one took him.

Fortunately for William, and for us, the New Jersey Schnauzer Rescue Network swooped in and William was given a reprieve.   

Funny how life changes, isn't it? One moment you’re doing one thing and have no plans to do anything out of the ordinary, but suddenly there's a knock on the door and everything changes. In my case it wasn’t a knock on the door so much as on my heart. Ah, but isn’t that how all great adventures begin?  

This weekend Atticus and I are driving south to pick up aged William and we're bringing him to live out his days in our home. When a friend heard what I planned to do she said, "What? Are you nuts? It will be a very sad situation, Tom. At this age all he has to look forward to is heart problems, cancer, and incontinence. It will be nothing but sadness for you."

I suppose she may be right - well, about all but the last part. I'm sure there will ultimately be sadness, but there will be many other things in between now and then as well. And one of those things will be to see old William's face when he meets the mountains of New Hampshire, when he hears the birds sing, smells the clean air, and sits atop a mountain, even if I have to carry him to the top of it.

You see, I believe it's never too late to live. And I have to believe that William, no matter what he's come from, deserves something special from this day on – just as we all do.

Do You Have a Question for Tom & Atticus?

Here’s your chance to ask Tom and Atticus a question and have it in the paperback edition of Following Atticus. 

Jess Lahey, a wonderful writer and blogger, is interviewing me now, and we’ll be printing the interview at the end of the book.  We thought it would be fun to choose one question from a Facebook friend to answer in the interview.  We will give you credit for the question in the book.   

Give it some thought, be original, and check out the questions that were asked previously to yours so there are no duplicates.

To submit your question go to the Following Atticus Facebook page and ask it under the proper post.  Jess and I will choose the one that works best for us. 

Thank you for participating!

Following Atticus Receives Two Silver Medals From The Nautilus Book Awards

We are pleased to announce that Following Atticus: Forty-Eight High Peaks, One Little Dog, and an Extraordinary Friendship is a double silver medal winner in the 2012 Nautilus Book Awards. 

The Nautilus Book Award “recognizes books and audio books that promote spiritual growth, conscious living, and positive social change, while at the same time they stimulate the ‘imagination’ and offer the reader ‘new possibilities’ for a better life and a better world.”

Following Atticus received a silver medal for Animals/Nature and for Memoir/Personal Journey.

In past years Nautilus Book Awards have gone to such notables as His Holiness the Dalai Lama; Deepak Chopra, M.D.; Barbara Kingsolver; Marianne Williamson; Thich Nhat Hanh; Eckart Tolle; Rhonda Byrne; Joel Osteen; Andrew Weil, M.D.; Gary Zukov; Mariel Hemingway; and Judy Collins.

The Nautilus website states: “We look for distinguished literary and heartfelt contributions to spiritual growth, conscious living, high-level wellness, green values, responsible leadership, and positive social change as well as to the worlds of art, creativity and inspirational reading for children, teens, and young adults.” 

We are proud and honored to be a double winner and happy for our agent, Brian DeFiore; our editor, Cassie Jones Morgan; and for our publisher, William Morrow, an imprint of HarperCollins. And we weren’t the only books published by HarperCollins that won Nautilus Book Awards this year.  Here’s the entire list of HarperCollins winners:

SILVER

The Quiet World by Douglas Brinkley -  Ecology / Environment

Love Wins by Rob Bell -  Religion / Spirituality - Western Traditions

Wabi Sabi Love – by Ariel Ford – Relationships

An Alter in the World –by Barbara Brown Taylor – Religion/Spirituality – Western Traditions (unacknowledged winner from 2011)

DOUBLE SILVER

Following Atticus – by Tom Ryan – Animals/Nature and Memoir/Personal Journey  (William Morrow)

GOLD
God is not a Christian by Bishop Desmond Tutu – Religion/Spirituality – Western Traditions

If you wish to learn more about the Nautilus Book Awards and to see how the winners are chosen click on this link and it will take you to their website.

Need Your Faith In Humanity Restored?

"Furthermore, we have not even to risk the adventure alone; for the heroes of all time have one before us..." ~ Joseph Campbell

90 Second Book Reviews Reviews Following Atticus: "It paints a picture of adversity and shows how much guts and love count."

This is our 1,000th post on this blog and it's regarding a great book review of Following Atticus that came out of the blue.  The '90 Second Book Review' gives our story high marks and I'm grateful for their consideration.

The review states: "If you are fearful, this is a book you need to read. If you like to hike or backpack, it' also is a "must read." If you have a special dog in your life, this is your book. And if you are made of stone--like Tom Ryan's late father–it warns you that you are hiking a dangerous trail, more dangerous than any described in Following Atticus."

And they go on to rank Following Atticus on the following five categories: Importance to Society; Importance to You; Fun Read; Quality of Writing and Presentation; Perspective Changer; and Over-all Must-Read Rating.  These are ranked from zero to five, with five being the highest.

To read the entire review click here. 

A Letter About Following Atticus From A Reader

A writer longs to connect. 

He wants his words to find the right set of eyes, pierce them, and fall directly into his reader's heart.  Occassionally, if we are fortunate enough, it happens.  And better yet, there are times a person lets you know when your words have taken them home again.  That's the most fulfilling part about being a writer.  Yes, making a living off of it is nice, and so are book sales, and bestseller lists - but more than anything it's the connection that counts.

On Monday we celebrated Atticus's tenth birthday by telling our blog, Twitter, and Facebook followers that if we made the New York Times bestseller list during his birthday week (the rating period goes through this Saturday), we'd donate a $1,000 to both the Jimmy Fund and to Angell Animal Medical Center.  We then urged people to buy Following Atticus this week to read it (if they haven't already), or to buy it for those they cared about.  What has transpired has been beyond my wildest dreams.  We may or may not make the New York Times bestseller list, but our numbers on Amazon and Barnes & Noble.com have jumped to new highs.  Even better is the outpouring of emotion that has come with so many of the posts, emails, and tweets.  It's really been something special.

The responses have been so numerous that I could not possibly post all of them but today I asked one emailer for permission to make her message public.  I hers out of so many worthy candidates for various reasons.  I think, however, the main reason is because it was most indicative of the majority of messages we've received. 

So many people have bought several copies of Following Atticus in its various forms (some of have bought it in ebook, hardcover, and in its audio form as well) and read it or listened to it, but then went right ahead and bought several more copies for other people in their life.

I think I can speak for everyone who is involved in the publishing of Following Atticus by saying that the response has been beyond remarkable.  It's been jaw-dropping. 

So thank you all for sharing your stories with us. 

Thank you for revealing your hearts.

And thank you for allowing me to tell the story of my friend, a most unusual little dog.

Here's what Janice from Saskatchewan, Canada had to say about Following Atticus...

I first learned about your book after my husband went out looking for dog booties earlier this year (incidentally for our own miniature schnauzer "Mausi", who had her first birthday last month). He came home with a set of muttluks, and attached to them was a promo card for your book. I was instantly intrigued - our Mausi is such an amazing little dog in her own right, so I was curious about what sort of story you and Atticus could tell. I kept the card in front of my keyboard for the next couple of weeks, as a reminder to snag the book when I was done with the series I was reading at the time.

I purchased the ebook in mid-February - and I am so glad that I did. I found so much joy and wisdom and more than a few tears every time I turned on my kindle. My only regret is that it didn't count towards the NYT push you started yesterday - so in honor of Atticus's birthday and the story you've shared, last night I went to amazon.com and bought several more ebooks (to share with my family), and a hardcover version to grace our own living room. I hope you make it to the bestseller list - your story deserves to be spread far and wide.

Thank you so much,
Janice, Clark, and Mausi
Saskatchewan, Canada - where the winters can be nasty too, except everything here is flat.

On March 12th Atticus Maxwell Finch Turns 10; Help Us Give To The Jimmy Fund and MSPCA Angell Animal Medical Center

(A Ken Stampfer photograph.)

On March 12^th Atticus Maxwell Finch will turn 10-years old.

What a decade it’s been.  What a life he’s lived.  And what a gift he’s given me.  Of course you already know all of this if you’ve read Following Atticus: Forty-Eight High Peaks, One Little Dog, andan Extraordinary Friendship, our shared memoir.

Ten years ago Atticus shocked his breeder, Paige Foster, when he was born an only puppy.  She was expecting more puppies to come out of his mother, and this was something she was never wrong about - until this night.  And from the first moment she held his tiny body in her hands Paige could feel there was something different about him – something special. During the first few weeks of his life Paige spent countless hours alone with the 'different' little puppy and this woman who led a life that was anything but charmed decided that for once, she would keep a puppy and not sell him as she had done with the more than the thousand she’d bred before.  Injuries she had sustained in an accident six months prior and had never healed would soon get better.  

That’s when I entered the picture.  I had lost Maxwell Garrison Gillis, an elderly miniature schnauzer I rescued less than a year and a half earlier.  My heart was broken and I wanted it fixed.  I searched for breeders through an on-line database and fate brought Paige and I together.  She showed me all the puppies she had for sale but when I didn’t see one I wanted, she asked me just what I was looking for.  I told her it was not so much about a certain look as it was a feel.  I told her how ‘Max’ had started to heal my jaded life and how his passing had broken that now-tender heart.

Paige then did something most others wouldn’t consider.  Paige was a woman with little happiness and she didn’t have many belongings.  All she really had that meant anything to her was that one special puppy.  But through our correspondence she believed that the same qualities he had within him that helped heal her could also heal me, and perhaps finish the job of saving me from myself that ‘Max’ had started.  Within a couple of days she sent Atticus to me and neither one of us could possibly understand how her selfless act would set the wheels of change in motion in so many lives. 

In the years since then much has transpired – enough to fill a book. 
Atticus did indeed finish the job Max started and brought me home to myself.  As I write in Following Atticus, “In telling the story of my friend, Atticus M. Finch, I often think of the something Antoine de Saint Exupery wrote, ‘Perhaps the act of love is my gently leading you back to yourself.’ For that’s what this little dog did. He led, I followed, and in the end I became the man I dreamed of being when I was a little boy.”      

If you’ve read the book you know how important the Jimmy Fund and Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, and Angell Animal Medical Center are to us.  Over the course of two winters we climbed 147 4,000-foot peaks and raised thousands of dollars for the fight against cancer and for animals in need.
To mark Atticus’s tenth birthday I wanted to do something a little bit different with our book.  Many of you have already read it.  Some have even bought it for others.  And some still plan to buy it for themselves – and for others.  It is my hope that if you plan to read Following Atticus or to give it to someone else, that you buy it on March 12^th, his birthday, or in the few days following it.  If enough people buy it that week we’ll make it to the New York Times bestseller list for the week and if we do we’ll donate a $1,000 to the Jimmy Fund and a $1,000 to Angell Animal Medical Center. 

On March 12^th, we’ll post a reminder on our Facebook page along with the Following Atticus book trailer and ask you to share it with a note about what we hope to achieve.  It would be great if you would share this with your Facebook friends.

We’ve yet to grab the attention of the national media.  However, we’ve been wonderfully successful because of you, our readers, and your word of mouth.  It has meant all the difference.  We’ve not made the NY Times bestseller list yet but there have been weeks when we haven’t been far off.  We have been on the New England Independent Booksellers Association (NEIBA) bestseller list in each of the last seven months, and we’ve made it to the Top 10 of the Sunday Times of London (UK).  With your help and continued support, we will make it to the NY Times list soon enough.  And if we do it for the week of Atticus’s birthday, we’ll give back to those two organizations we believe in.  So pass the word – March 12 is the day!

(A note: not all booksellers report their sales to the New York Times.  Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Target, I-Tunes, Powells, and many of the bigger independent booksellers do.  It doesn’t matter whether you buy the hardcover or download an e-book.  All sales go towards making the list.)

Thank you for reading our story – a story that was started by the selflessness of a remarkable woman ten years ago and a thousand miles away.

Following Atticus Is Featured On New Hampshire Chronicle

Last Friday evening Atticus and I were featured on New Hampshire Chronicle during a six minute clip. We appreciate the coverage from WMUR New Hampshire, an ABC affiliate. You can see the footage by clicking here.

Following Atticus: The Book Trailer

"Tis not to late to seek a newer world..."

There is a joy and a simplicity I feel when walking with Atticus. He is always just who he is. There is no play-acting, no posing, no trying to slip into some role that will make him more appreciated, and he never worries about fitting in whatsoever.

Over the past six months we've hiked fewer peaks than we have over similar stretches in the last six years. The difference being that our book was published and we went on tour. We continue to do appearances throughout New England and I'm fortified by the sheer numbers of folks who turn out. Of course Atticus could care less who is there. In his own Taoist way he's there and I'm there and that's all that matters. So instead of sitting up preening for the appreciative audience, he walks in, I pick him up, stand in front of the crowd with him sitting in the crook of my arm, and begin to tell our story. Before long he rests his head on my shoulder and falls asleep, his tender snores soothe my ears. After that I place him on the table and he lies down in front of all those people who turned out to see him and goes back to sleep. Occasionally he'll flop and ear, or twitch one of his bushy white eyebrows. Rarely does he do more than that.

Would any of us be so composed and relaxed in front of an excited crowd?

Atticus and I are comfortable pretty much wherever we go. Perhaps it came from the earliest days when I carried him everywhere I went when he was but a wee pup. Or maybe it's because we just fit well together and always have – as if we were made for each other. Perhaps it's all the mountains we’ve climbed or how each of us has faced our share of health issues over the past few years - always side by side. Whatever the reason, he is simply who he is and I take comfort in that.

Not long ago we were in front of a standing room only crowd in Cambridge, Massachusetts and I spoke as I always do - from the cuff, perhaps with a bit of wit and Tourette's mixed in for danger. (One never knows what I will say next. Heck, I don’t even know.) Someone asked a question and it had to do with defining our story. Oh, the places I could go with such a question. And how to boil it down into a simple answer. After all, there are many messages in Following Atticus. What I came up with was something that sounded like the following: "When we are little and standing in front of our bedroom mirror, we dream of hitting the winning homerun in the World Series, catching the winning touchdown in the Super Bowl, being elected president, or being given some great award. We dream innocently of being great. But then life comes along and through the decades it wears us down and before long we are thirty or forty...or fifty, and those dreams of our youth are forgotten. No one dreams of growing up to sit in a cubicle five days a week, or beating his wife, or becoming an alcoholic. So our story is how one little dog led me back to myself, led me back to being that little boy and all the wonders he dreamed of and we came to it by crossing over all these beautiful mountains in New Hampshire."

Tennyson was correct when he said, "Tis not too late to seek a newer world.” It's never too late to pick up where we left off when innocence left off – no matter how old we are.

Last night I sat with a friend who is struggling in life - truly struggling. He is mired in fear and has a difficult time making a right step. He gets glimpses of magic but falls back on the old dysfunctions that nurtured his shortcomings and he sits and he doubts and chooses to believe in anything but happy endings. But all I could think about was how at any time in life he can start anew 'to seek his newer world...' All he has to do is to take a step, a blind step, perhaps even a giant step into the unknown. I thought off how life had dealt this fellow a raw deal but at the same time while his life was in ruins he still has a choice to make. That's when I thought of something Rumi wrote: "“Do not be satisfied with the stories that come before you. Unfold your own myth.”

So what does all of this have to do with a little dog and the magnificent White Mountains we live in? Everything.

There was a time when I faced my fears and made that same kind of leap of faith.  I followed a little dog into these mountains – two neophytes. We climbed the 48 4,000-footers in spring and summer; then in fall and winter. And what I discovered was this great, mysterious, and mythic land was the medicine I needed. Of course Atticus was my avatar; my guide back to myself for he held the innocence I had lost.

We didn't know what we couldn't do when we set out to hike 96 peaks in 90 days of one winter. We simply went because we found peace, tranquility, and virtue in the journey up and over those summits and down into the shadowy valleys.

After sitting in a dark and brooding room last night down in Massachusetts, with a friend who appears to have a difficult time believing he could make such a leap, I'm half ashamed to say that some of his hopelessness rubbed off on me. But when Atticus and I returned to the mountains and stepped onto a forest path this morning, all of that changed. We were back where we belong.

In the crunch of the snow underfoot, in the passing under the archway of trees, in the climb up and away from what once held me down, we arose as we always do, and conquered what I needed to conquer, what we all need to face and defeat time and again in life. 

Climbing mountains is a wonderful metaphor in life, in ascending beyond doubts and distractions that have us believing we can’t be great or that our own personal story doesn’t matter. 

Nature offers up a wonderful setting for us to regain what it means to be human.  (And how ironic that I became more human by getting away from society and following a little dog.) 

Today, as we sat alone on a little summit in solitude and the sun felt warmer than it should in February, I felt clean and healthy but thoughts of last night continued to race through my mind.  But to my left, about five feet away, without a care in the world, sat little Atticus – content.  I needed that mountain today.  But more so I needed that little guide who led me to the top and then had me breathing just as simply and happily as he was when taking in the view. 

“’Tis not too late to seek a newer world…”

Provincetown Sojourn

 

For each of the past three winters, Atticus and I have headed to the Outer Cape and rented an affordable off-season house in Provincetown. We go for the walks on the beach, we go for a change of pace, but more than anything, we go for the vast horizons and the incredible light. We'll always love mountains best, but it's great to get to the sea as well. And each time we return to the beach it's a return to Atti's childhood (or is that puppyhood?). When he was young we spent our mornings and evenings romping on the beach at Plum Island. We don't get back to Plum Island very often any more, but that's all the more reason for us to get out to PTown once a year in what is the darkest season in the mountains.

AMC Outdoors Features 'Following Atticus'

"Reading Following Atticus can feel like taking a long walk, or a
series of walks, with a great storyteller." - Kristen Laine, AMC Outdoors

This morning, the online edition of February's AMC (Appalachian Mountain Club) Outdoors ran a column about Following Atticus.  Kristen Laine is a wonderful writer and aptly titled her piece "Following Atticus Home".  She wowed us with her ability to weave words and was the first reviewer to connect the dots between father and son so completely.  The relationship I had with my father, Jack Ryan, was sandwiched between her opening and closing paragraphs that dealt with her relationship with her own father.  It was well done.  

Of course she touched on Atticus M. Finch, my diminutive hiking partner who brought us me to this point in my life and she mentioned the mountains we have grown to love and ultimately call our home. 

We are thrilled that the AMC embraced our story, especially since White Mountain historians Steve Smith and Mike Dickerman believe Following Atticus is the first nationally published books about these great peaks.  Therefore, the mission of the AMC goes hand in hand with our love of this region.

Perhaps our favorite sentence from Kristen's column is "Reading Following Atticus can feel like taking a long walk, or a series of walks, with a great storyteller."  But there's so much more to like about it.  See for yourself by reading the entire piece here.

Of Fox and Dog and Man

Neither Atticus nor I are big fans of the rain.  And when it’s freezing rain, as it is this morning, we’d rather just stay inside and wait it out.  But nature calls – in more ways than one – and we respond.  So about eight o’clock we forced ourselves out into the elements and hurried through the cathedral pines, the heavy wet drops, the hissing wind of Moseley Woods here in Newburyport for our morning constitutional. 

The old trees groaned and slick pine needles slid underfoot.  Man and dog both shivered from time to time as we walked through the storm.  Some days, no matter what you are wearing, there is no holding out the raw and the cold.  Today is such a day. 

Walking over the wet roots and hard, brown earth I was distracted by thoughts of tonight’s event at Porter Square Books.  I’ll read from the book while Atticus sleeps, then I’ll pick him up and take questions from the audience.  As is the case with every event I wonder just what I’ll say.  I never really know, and yet something always comes to me.  As soon as the introduction ends and the audience looks at me expectantly my mouth starts moving and I tell our story.  I also found myself wondering about the weather and how it would make for driving in busy Cambridge tonight.  The stop and go traffic; the icy or snowy roads; the slap-slap-slap of the windshield wipers.  Will parking be difficult?  What about the escape from the hectic city after the event? 

I pulled the zipper of my sweater a little higher to keep out the cold and shivered once again as rain drops fell inside my collar. 

Meanwhile Atticus stopped, squatted, did what he had to do, and then he turned right around and we started back the way we came.  No need to stay out in this weather longer than we have to.

As we headed towards our car I realized that we weren’t alone in the woods after all.  Sitting on the side of the trail, his hair wet and dark, sat a beautiful fox.  He was watching us.  Upon noticing him Atticus perked right up and before approaching looked back at me. 

“Hold on, Little Bug.  Let him be,” I said.  So Atticus took a seat and fox and dog and man looked at each other.  He and Atticus looked at each other with curiosity while I took in both of them with a bit wonder.

Yesterday, while moving through these same quiet woods we came to a small pond and on a log sat the tiniest baby beaver.  I’ve seen beavers before, but never one so small.  And just as happened with the fox this morning, Atticus took a seat and watched and I sat back in wonder while the beaver continued to chew and look upon us without a care in the world. 

I thought of yesterday’s beaver while we exchanged non-verbal pleasantries with Mr. Fox this morning and I thought about how fortunate we have been on two straight days to be welcomed to this forest by its residents.  I’m glad that Atticus is the gentle sort who has learned about respecting another creature’s home and that we could sit silently this morning and yet have so much conveyed .

This is not the first fox sighting we’ve had as of late.  Back in Jackson, we had a backyard Christmas tree this year and it gleamed with blue and white LED lights while a smaller varied string of colors wove and twinkled through the branches.  This tree was such a splendid gift to ourselves and was so stunning in its bright simplicity that I couldn’t help but gasp with surprised pleasure each time I encountered it.  It was as if I’d forgotten it was there and fell in love all over again whenever I’d pull into the yard or looked out the window.  One night I saw the neighboring fox who leaves her footprints in the snow for us to find each morning sitting by the tree.  When we went out into the yard she was gone.  The next night, however, when Atticus and I were outside, she appeared through the bracken ringing the yard.  She approached but didn’t get too close.  It was a safe distance for both of us and we looked on each other in the light of that wondrous tree.  After some time, Atticus and I went back into the house and when I looked out the window I saw her close to the tree again. 

On a recent hike up Peaked Mountain we were getting close to the part of the trail where the forest gives way to the ledges and we crossed paths with yet another fox.  It watched us with some interest and once again Atticus looked back at me and waited for me to pick him up and there fox, dog, and man spent a brief visit together.  It wasn’t nearly as long as this morning’s encounter nor the get-together with our backyard fox but it was enough to arouse my sense of wonder.

This morning, all the rain, the falling ice, the wind disappeared in the time of our silent communion.  Eventually I told the fox we had to go and apologized for passing too close on our way out of the woods.  It trotted slowly away and we went back to our car. 

The busy city may await us tonight, but there’s always a string that brings us to what we love the most.  Nature is everywhere, and I wrap myself in her embrace whenever I’m reminded of her beauty.    

The Book Fetish Calls FOLLOWING ATTICUS One of the Best of Reads of 2011

We're starting off 2012 with a great review of Following Atticus.  It appears on The Book Fetish Blog.  In the review Ashley Williams writes the following:

At one point in the book, Tom says, “Magic is where you find it; the only thing that matters is that you take the time to look for it.” When I read that, I had to put aside the book and write down that sentiment in the little notebook I keep with me all the time. I also quoted it as a Facebook status, and judging by the number of likes it received, this is a sentiment that we need to remember more often. I wasn’t expecting to be hit by a statement like that in this book. Anyone who dismisses Following Atticus as a book “just” about a man and a dog would be missing out on extraordinary story about friendship, self discovery, and the importance of living the life you’re meant to lead. Unexpectedly, Following Atticus is one of my favorite reads for 2011.
You can read the entire review by clicking here and going to The Book Fetish blog.