I am going to travel around the world and write a book about it before I die. Already have several chapters done and have gotten from Vermont to Cambodia--after the doctors said I would be dead last April!. Here's the Intro! If you want to see more of it, there's plenty at the Blog section of the fearlesspuppy(dot)info website. I Start From Here
Many folks tell me that I am the happiest person they ever met. I have had a nightmare childhood, several chronic disabling problems, and a couple of terminal illnesses—so the doctors tell me. But at least three of the doctors who told me I'd be dead by now have died themselves. Many others have just been flat-out wrong with other diagnoses, prescriptions, and predictions. It just goes to show you that a formal education isn't everything these days. Back when medicine was a profession instead of an industry, I may have believed those doctors. I may have been more polite and died out of respect for them. Experience has taught me that polite and respectful aren’t always the right course of action.
As a young man I was brought to a hospital supposedly dead of an overdose. They gave me a shot of adrenaline in the heart. It didn’t work. One doctor pronounced me dead. Another said no. He gave me another shot. That one worked.
But nearly fifty years later, now that half of our American doctors have shown a diseased integrity that only used car salesman and high-level politicians were previously famous for, I usually don’t show up at their doors. Better results have come from taking care of myself. I recently made a mistake and did a long-term medication given me by a Naturopath who didn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground. It resulted in what looked to be a fatal aggravation to an already problematic liver. Two doctors said I had liver cancer. The “specialist” said I had six months to live. That was in October of 2018. Do the math.
After half a year or more of heavy meditation, highly focused breathing, Rick Simpson oil, apricot seeds (laetrile/B17), Chaga mushrooms, steam rooms and hot tubs, high potency Milk Thistle, lots of vitamins, herbs, raw juices, and of course dietary adjustments and lifestyle changes, I'm still here and having fun. Vampire pimps for the pharmaceutical industry didn't put this smile on my face. I'm not going to let them take it off. I thankThe Universal Whatever for these natural remedies.
I have many friends that are nurses. I am very grateful for them and their kind attention. Doctors deal with diseases. Nurses deal with people. They can sometimes help to fix what a doctor screws up.
All that being said, and conquered diseases notwithstanding, I still must admit to being an old man. If you have read Fearless Puppy on American Road and Reincarnation Through Common Sense, you know that my aging bones have a lot of hard miles on them. Logic dictates that I be put out to pasture to enjoy the better memories. But if you have read those books, you also know that's not going to happen.
I'm going to make a voyage completely around the world. Everyone tells me that no one my age, especially no one with a rapidly disintegrating skeletal structure and a diagnosed terminal illness, should make such a journey. But we all have to die sooner or later, and I have a mission to accomplish before I do.
Several friends who have been abroad lately tell me that there is no place else on Earth as morally bankrupt, lacking integrity, crumbling apart from the inside, and as intimidating and repulsive to its neighbors as America. There is plenty of evidence to support their claims but I still don't like to believe them. I have to go see for myself. If it is true that no place sucks quite as badly as America does, I want to find out why. What are other places doing that we would benefit from doing ourselves? And more importantly, why are we not doing those things? What things are the other places doing that don’t work for them? Why aren’t they fixing their own messes? What are the ways people keep smiling, laughing, and loving life while fighting to repair a world that is mentally as well as physically ill, often disgusting, and may very well have a more severe terminal illness than I do? How do folks keep the fun happening in the midst of all the tragedy?
I’ll report back to you from each location, for your entertainment. But if you find anything within that seems even more important than entertainment, feel free to use it. It would be my pleasure to be affiliated with any small move in the direction of saving any part of humanity from falling through its own inconsistencies.
Don't worry if people look at you like you're crazy while you use unusual information toward personal or cultural benefit. Remember that the only people who ever change the world are the ones crazy enough to think they can. Being “crazy,” in our culture, often means that you just have a different way of seeing things. That can be a very good thing just as easily as it can be a very bad thing. Sure, Hitler and Idi Amin were crazy. But Mother Teresa, the Dalai Lama, and Copernicus were also said to be crazy, by many people who intended the word as an insult. Those critics didn’t realize just how helpful so-called crazy can be if managed with a loving intelligence.
The medicines helped, but the real reason I am not dead yet is the fact that I am a little crazy. Maybe I can explain that better with this little story from the brilliant Indian mystic, Sadhguru. “On a certain day, one cow asked another, ‘So what is your opinion about the Mad Cow Disease?’ The other cow responded, ‘I don’t give a hoot! I am a helicopter’!”
The ancient Chinese mystic Lao Tse put it this way. “There is no fear of tiger’s tooth, no danger from rhino’s horn. There is no place for death to enter.”
Understand? If not, no problem. I’m pretty sure it will make perfect sense to you by the time you finish this book.
new year 2020 and best wishes to everyone. 
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