As I approached the traffic light in downtown Vienna in September of 2025, a truck pulling a horse trailer stopped in front of me. A message, perhaps a quote from Mr. Ed’s stable, was printed across the back. “Live like someone left the gate open.” 

That bit of humor reminded me of Dude, a mammoth-sized dog of unknown ancestry. He rode shotgun with our son from California to Georgia during the early part of the Covid pandemic. Seth, Dude, and a chihuahua named Louise slept in their rental vehicle, only making a few essential stops.

Dude decided to live with us, but for a while refused to stay inside our fenced back yard. We thought he had an amazing jumping ability until we caught him climbing over the chain link fence, a possibility we had not considered. He could have traveled the world once he reached the other side, but chose instead to patiently wait at our back door.

The big fellow had been accustomed to indoor living on the West Coast. It took him a while to understand that our rules were different. He eventually adjusted and became a beloved part of our family, then died too young and broke our hearts. That horse-trailer advice reminded me of Dude, because even if we had left the gate open he would not have ventured far. 

In a way that’s a good thing. He knew where he wanted to be and wasn’t tempted by open gates. Sometimes, though, we can be too cautious and miss out on opportunities.

Yogi Berra said, “When you get to a fork in the road, take it.” His humorous quip perhaps contains a bit of subtle wisdom. We don’t always take either fork, choosing instead to stay where we are and linger in indecision. Or we turn around and retreat because the road less traveled can be scary. Like a fork in the road we never take, we shy away from the open gate.

Some gates are no doubt best left closed, but I’m thinking today of those which are promising. There are a lot of reasons we may be reluctant to go through them. Fear is one that can stop us in our tracks. It can cause us to do nothing or to make half-hearted attempts.

One way I’ve found helpful in dealing with fear is to ask, “What’s the worst that could happen?” I think I heard that from someone giving pointers on public speaking. I’ve made a few talks over the years and almost always get nervous, so sometimes I ask myself that question. It reminds me that the worst that can happen is not all that bad.

The truth is the audiences I’ve spoken to have all been friendly ones. Even if my mind went blank or I lost my notes, the people would have been understanding. None would have called for tar and feathers.

In a nutshell, here’s my thinking. If you come to a fork in the road, make the best choice you can then go for it. If you’re fearful about tackling something you know is worthwhile then ask yourself, “What’s the worst that could happen?” That can help you decide whether to rev up the engine or hit the brakes.  

And if you don’t remember anything else from today’s ramblings, I hope you’ll hang on to a little bit of horse sense which Mr. Ed would have surely embraced. “Live like someone left the gate open.”