Fit check! My Nitto Nomad Grapplers arrived! I waited years for these tires to arrive on the market to fit my vision and another year to fit the budget. I am still creating my very own bumper sticker 🎣 and my vision will be complete.
My bumper sticker inspiration courtesy of “Beau”:
I never stuck it on my dogwalking vehicles, though.
Once upon a time…
But I would walk “500” miles
And I would walk “500” more
Just to be the girl who walked “1000” miles
Thanks Chris for making my Barbie Jeep dreams come true.
#yourdreamsdontworkunlessyoudo they say.
(One day I calculated I dog walked 52 miles/week. Beau The Dogo Argentina’s mom raised my attention to the reality I had been walking on her watch rain or shine and on rare occasion snow for 2+ years. I walked “my dogs” like I was walking them for Jesus.)
My theory on why Subaru doesn’t just manufacture Foresters at this height is for their aging population.
That’s Grandma’s house in the background on Easter Weekend 2025. We were wishing her many more birthdays at the end of her 93rd birthday song and she respectfully declined the wishes. We were all humored. She is Witte, afterall. 4 houses down from Grandma’s house was Grandma Sugarplum’s house, too. Matt put it in perspective for me, “Your grandma has lived in that same house for over 60 years.” #toremain
7/12/25 Matt, Dixie and I helped Hank home today.
7/20/25 I told Dr. Hull I was afraid he would not let us go. She reminded us as she did with Jack, they live for us. Ultimately I believe I was on the edge, afraid to let Hank go even though I knew ultimately it was for his best well-being and time. That's how precise God's will feels to me. One foot in the boat, one foot above a raging sea, knowing God is calling you out, unknowing of His saving power until you actually do it. The space between knowing and doing is SCARY. Faith over fear takes fear meeting courage, the way I feel it. It takes The Holy Spirit's gift of courage to obey God's will. It is THAT scary, we do not even have the power to do it ourselves. We have to receive The Holy Spirit's power and trust The Holy Spirit's power. The uncertainty in God's will is that real, you know when you know it's for you but you cannot believe it without trust. #thesurrenderisreal PW was a learning, Jack was a check in my understanding, and Hank was an application. And from the mouth of Matt, "It is getting harder with each one." Matt is reminding me Dixie is 12; I think I don't think of her as 12 because she was the first of ours who came to us as an adult at 5. I threw a 6th birthday for her and after that, she is glad when I remember it's her birthday. I try to put my heart and soul into first things. Hank was a stone in our foundation as one - with us since our second year of our 17 years of marriage so far - , and he was afterall, Hank, a treasure. I found him at vet tech school; "Gabe" was a wild one seeming already spent and now enclosed in the best possible way. "Hank" wasn't looking for anyone. I spent the semester convincing him he didn't know he wants to choose me too. Each semester students had first choice in adoption. I had four semesters to complete, Matt was firm in giving me only one choice to use wisely. He set that expectation right after I received the information in Orientation. I used my only choice my first semester; when you know, you know #loveatfirstsight I loved all the dogs that came after Hank like I was their veterinary technician, but not like I received the knowing Hank was mine.
Jill introduced today's rosary (7/20/25) with a discussion about pre-destination. I believe wholeheartedly in pre-destination, it is so obvious when I count my blessings in a prayer of gratitude, but pre-destination is still beyond my understanding to grasp, I need lots of little reminders how God is God and we only need be present and obedient. Hank was a big-little reminder of how God is God even with the littlest of creatures who are so present with us. Like I told my grandma, God called Hank, "Come, Hank." and in true Hank fashion, he was R-E-A-D-Y to obey. "Hank was more excited for his lunch than he usually is today", I texted Matt, before I relentlessly called him to pick up the phone with the message "Get here now" in that same noon. Looking back I retold to Matt, like Hank knew it was nourishment for the final leg of his journey; it was that out of usual and food is one of Hank's joys. It was that out of usual. It took Matt and I lots of little conversations and little steps to prepare for something we would never be ready for. [I believe Hank was not deaf as he made us believe he was. How Hank seemed to light a fire under his rear all his own after every one of our little conversations Matt and I had made me believe Hank was not as deaf as he led us to believe. I cannot blame Hank for his selective hearing, he used every last drop of grace God had given him to stay present with me.] I know that for certain when I questioned Matt's lead with his timing for Hank and Matt endearingly (and sternly) confessed, "I'm not ready." That's when I prayed one Hail Mary for Jesus to help us and Matt swooped Hank up and tucked him in for his last night with us, Hank surrendered. That was a scary night. Hank took it easy on me at the same time he challenged me. I will always remember Matt telling Hank in their fights, "I will always win." Just like with Jack, it was hard to realize Hank was as geriatric as he was. Hank was 2 going on 17. I lightened the mood, the next evening after when we had no fights with Hank to fight, by telling Matt what Fr. Mike says sometimes in his homilies, "Have you wrestled with God? If you haven't you should." Matt and Hank wrestled and sometimes I had to look away at how firm Hank needed Matt to be with him because I knew for myself how stubborn Hank can be with me. Hank was a big dog in a tiny family. Hank The Big Black/White Dog. One of Hank's first nicknames was from my dad, "Big Dog". Hank was one of our littlest teachers - In Hank's hardest last days he taught us the "black and white" in God's will, the "black and white" in readiness to receive His call, the "black and white" in obedience to obey His command, the "black and white" in carrying the yoke of suffering well, the "black and white" in surrendering with grace, the black and white in being in God's presence in the present moment.
My favorite memory of Hank is my last memory of him "consciously' present with us. I was holding Dixie well behind Hank to give Dr. Hull space to be present with him and telling her about his self-gift as a training animal for Palo Alto College's vet tech students. Hank was "still"; when you saw "Gabe" next to your name on the schedule for a practical examination, a wave of relief washed over you. You were happy for that relief because school was rigorously rigorous. I was no match for the discipline it required to excel. Like I told Dr. Hull, the expectations were set at a level - you had to choose to reach. Matt and I had only been married a year. Matt remembers eating Bertolli in the innumerable amount of a lot, and I was gone through the nights studying. "Gabe" was a good dog like you would imagine a "Hank" to be, your developing confidence as a student was secure in his paws. (Dr. Hull and I found a deeper connection, she told us over her care for Hank she was the director/lead instructor in a military training program for veterinary technicians. She named all the dogs who remained with her in the training program for the 13 year stretch.) and just before she prepared Hank for sedation, Hank looked behind right at me as if to say this is where we say our realest goodbye. His "wheels" were fallen off and his little face was too worn for what my memory wants to fight me to remember. I wasn't even prepared in thought that was the space for our last "present" moment, where our truest goodbye lived. Hank, the mysteriously German Shepherd Embark told us he was, made sure it wouldn't be too heavy and turned to me- knowing and doing- it for me. That is my most favorite memory of Hank. That is how good a good dog he will always be remembered to be. His awareness was gift and his mental acuity and obedience was sharp for a "112" year old canine.
#untilthewheelsfalloff
6/8/25
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