Our story continues from Book One, “At the Threshold,” as we begin life together in the finished Lodge.
Chapter One — Making the Lodge Our Home
When the Lodge was finally ready, there wasn't one grand moment when everybody packed up and moved together. We simply began making our way into the home we had built. After spending part of the transition apart, being together again was what mattered most.
There was so much room. We had planned it, worked on it, and watched it rise, but living inside it was another experience entirely. We wandered through the rooms, stopping at windows and looking along walls that had so recently been unfinished. Everywhere we turned, there was something we had helped make.
At first, we didn't have all the furnishings. That changed steadily. Within the first month, the Lodge was fairly well furnished, and the kitchen began filling with pots, pans, plates, and the supplies we needed to feed a household. Each addition made everyday life a little easier.
Pup kept taking notes. There was always another need to remember, another useful idea to write down. Ashton had a natural eye for what needed organizing, while Harry found his place in the kitchen. As autumn settled around us, hearty meals and stews helped give the new house the warmth of a home.
Our schedules didn't always bring everyone to the kitchen table at once. A few would eat together, then another few would come through. The dining room gave us space for larger gatherings when we needed it. Even with all that room, we still wanted somebody nearby.
We had always been comfortable with one another. A wide couch didn't mean we wanted to sit at opposite ends of it. More often, we settled beside a friend. Upstairs, the twenty single beds gave everyone a place, but having a bed of your own felt unfamiliar after the closeness we already knew.
The early Lodge was busy, even when a room still needed furniture. Kai's account of those days included shared meals, impromptu jam sessions, and the easy comfort of cuddling together. Hudson described arriving as a stranger and finding friendship and a shared purpose. Each man's experience added something to the life taking shape around us.
We were learning the house and learning how we lived within it. Where would we gather in the morning? Where would a quiet conversation carry on? Which seat would become somebody's usual place?
The answers came through ordinary days. A meal was prepared. Somebody pulled up a chair. A conversation continued long after anyone had intended to sit down.
Little by little, we found our familiar closeness within all that new space. The Lodge became our home.
Dancing didn't find its way into the Lodge. It moved in with us.
Music had always been part of our life together. Country, folk, or anything that got our feet moving could draw us into a dance. A radio playing somewhere in the house could be as comforting as a familiar voice.
The great room had been designed with that life in mind. Its dance floor was centered on the fireplace. At the back left stood the place we had built for the DJ booth, looking across the floor toward the hearth. We had planned the space during construction; now we needed to get the equipment installed and working.
Grant and Brad were our DJs back then, and their knowledge helped us decide exactly what we needed. They understood what would make the booth work for the people using it and for everyone out on the floor. Carter, Todd, Flaco, and Spencer also belong among the DJ names we carry forward in our history.
We wanted the best we could get or make. This was our place, and the great room would be our central community gathering spot. We were willing to put the time and care into getting it right.
The VR system was part of that work, too. So many members of our community already lived in a VR world that bringing it into our plans felt natural. Music could be paired with custom three-dimensional lighting, avatars, and environments that could go beyond what a physical room allowed. We imagined members visiting places throughout our community at any time, with the DJ shows becoming another way to gather.
Alongside the equipment came the lighting and speakers. On either side of the dance floor, we planned the Good Boy Cuddle Lounge and the Gold Star Good Boy Cuddle Lounge, choosing furniture for the comfort we wanted to share there. There would be room to dance and room to settle close beside someone afterward.
We had invested so much time and knowledge that the first sound test left us completely blown away by the quality. Yet we weren't surprised. We knew how much care had gone into it.
Then the lighting came on.
As if there were magic in the room, the lights began pulsing with the music, following its beat and rhythm. All the separate pieces we had worked on were finally working together.
With the first beat, everyone from our community who was in the great room seemed to take that first step onto the dance floor at once. We hadn't rehearsed it. We didn't need to. The music started, and our feet answered.
In time, the shows brought their own familiar sounds and faces. Sandy hosted Sandy Nutz in the great room, finding joy in seeing the community gather around his music. Steve's account of Country Nutz with DJ Randy belonged here at the Lodge, where men twirled and spun together. Pretty Boy's contribution placed us in the great room dancing to DJ Austin.
Kyle's account belonged to a Lodge event with DJ River. Hudson, too, described River's music drawing him toward the center of the room. Reese sang along during the spontaneous dances, his voice joining the others. Even the Master Archivist's quiet coffee on the porch could give way to laughter and music calling him indoors.
Other contributions carried us outdoors: King described Wednesday nights dancing in the woods to DJ Austin, and Harry spoke of dancing naked beneath the stars with our Nutwood family. Jesse described the grass beneath his bare feet and the music moving through him. Those moments had their own settings within our wider story.
The great room gave that love of music a home inside the Lodge. As the sound and lights settled around us, we could feel the purpose of the room we had built.
Somewhere amid the music and our pleasure in seeing everything work, someone mentioned that he hadn't seen Nutmeg for a few days.
We began looking at one another. None of us had seen him, either.
Nutmeg had always come and gone as he pleased at Nutty Nights. That was part of his life with us. But he had never truly moved over to the Lodge, and after we had been there a while, we had assumed he would have found his way to us by then.
We were concerned, though it wasn't time to panic. We kept an eye out and continued with our days.
Then we learned that one of the men had spoken with him at the big tree in Macarena Park. Knowing he was all right eased our minds. Hearing what he had said made us understand why he hadn't come.
It had been a private, one-on-one conversation. As the account reached us, Nutmeg had felt left out during the building of the Lodge. When everybody moved, he had accepted it as a sign that it was time for everyone to go their separate ways.
We hadn't understood that he felt that way. Once we did, the effort to welcome him was wholehearted. He had always been part of us, and we wanted him to know that he still was.
A few of the guys planted oak trees around the Lodge. I went back to Nutty Nights to see whether the Adirondack chairs were still there. I knew how much Nutmeg enjoyed resting on them in the sunlight. If they were still there, I was bringing them home.
They were.
We brought them to the Lodge, cleaned them up, gave them fresh paint, and placed them around the front porch. They became the chairs where we sat with our morning coffee. We kept hoping that, one morning, Nutmeg would be there with us.
Time passed. Then somebody noticed an acorn in one of the chairs.
At first, no one thought much of it. But another appeared, and then another. Day after day, an acorn was left in the same place. We began looking for it when we came out with our coffee.
One morning, we filled our cups and headed onto the porch as usual. We weren't expecting anything unusual. We found our regular chairs, sat down, and began sipping our coffee.
We glanced toward the place where we normally found the acorn. There wasn't one that morning. Apparently, he hadn't come by during the night.
Then I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.
Nutmeg was coming along the porch rail with an acorn in his mouth. He scampered down to the chair and placed it where he had been leaving the others. Then he sat up on his hind legs and looked at each of us in turn.
There was a comfort about him. After looking us over, he lay down on the chair in the sunlight.
Our hearts melted. We glanced at one another with small grins, barely containing how happy we were. Each of us took a turn saying it.
“Welcome back, Nutmeg. I'm glad you're here.”
We sat with our coffee while he rested in the sun. At last, we were sharing the morning we had hoped for.
Our attention gradually turned toward finishing the backyard oasis we had dreamed about. It had already been growing over the years. The fire pit was in place, and paths led around the yard toward the areas we wanted to develop.
We made several small picnic areas. Nothing enormous—just comfortable places where a few of us could gather. The paths gave each little spot a connection to the rest of the yard.
Near the little lounge we had built close to the fire pit, we chose the place for the hot tub. We wanted it positioned properly so that it fitted the way we used the backyard. We dug it in, plastered it, and brought it to completion.
Then we decided the hot tub wasn't going to be enough.
We needed a swimming pool.
So we began digging it by hand. Once again, an idea became a community project, and the ground beneath us slowly took the shape of something we would enjoy together.
The pool would be freeform, with a little waterfall spilling into a shallow section. That area would remain part of the pool, but it would be shallow enough for us to sit in the water together. We wanted somewhere to linger as much as somewhere to swim.
The pool, hot tub, and nearby lounge area were on the opposite side of the yard from Acorn Lake. The lake had its own place behind the Lodge, and the swimming pool would become another part of our life outdoors.
Acorn Lake had been part of our story since the Lodge was being built. Its exceptionally clear water had drawn us in to swim and cool off after the work. Ripple Lake was a separate place, about halfway along the trail between the Lodge and Macarena Park, where a walk could include a familiar swimming or skinny-dipping stop.
We knew these places through the time we spent in them. Sky's contribution included exploring the woods, sharing stories, and finding a sense of belonging. The yard gave us more places for that same easy companionship close to home.
One year became the next, and then another. Without quite noticing when it happened, we found that the Lodge was thoroughly our home and the backyard was becoming the oasis we had imagined.
Indoors, the DJ area and VR system kept developing, too. Like all electronics, there was always something newer. We could never quite keep up with every latest possibility, but we kept improving what we had.
There was always another idea. As our community grew, there was always another reason to make room.
Over time, the twenty beds upstairs had gradually filled. Some of the men had formed closer relationships, and we began bringing in queen beds for those who wanted to sleep together.
Being comfortable beside one another was nothing new. The single beds simply didn't give us much room for it. As beds needed replacing, a queen became a practical choice. The first replacements were taken up, and eventually we decided to replace all the remaining singles.
The finished arrangement upstairs was eighteen queen beds, providing sleeping space for as many as thirty-six people. Sharing remained a choice between the men involved. By October 7, 2026, the full arrangement was installed. Eli joined that day and shared bed fourteen with Sky. Pretty Boy later shared bed sixteen with Tim's Avatar.
At the stage I was recalling, there were around twenty-five of us. The names belonged in the story as surely as the rooms and paths did: Pup, River, Steve, King, Dude, Pretty Boy, Prince, Hudson, Sandy, Kai, Troy, Cooper, Randy, Meerkat, Sam, Harry, Reese, Jesse, Ashton, Kyle, Tyler, Austin, Sky, and Eli, among the people whose lives we were bringing together in these pages. By Eli's admission in October 2026, the recorded community roster stood at twenty-seven.
Each man brought his own account of belonging. Prince described mornings with coffee on the front porch and music in the great room. Tyler spoke of those mornings, too: crisp air, fresh coffee, and conversations about dreams still ahead of us. Dude's account found another hour on the same porch, sharing lemonade and stories as the sun went down.
The quiet company mattered as much as a crowded dance floor. Affection had always come naturally to us. Some friendships grew into romance; others remained platonic and just as deeply valued. We could sit close, offer comfort, and love one another without needing to rank those relationships.
There were also occasions to recognize an individual. Pup had received a Gold Star Certified Good Boy award, followed by Troy and River on October 11, 2026. Those honors belonged to the men who had received them, within a community where everybody's place mattered.
As more gatherings moved into the backyard, we realized we had outgrown our little lounge. We needed a larger pavilion: open to the air, with plenty of seating, bench-style picnic tables for dining, and a sheltered area where we could prepare and serve food.
At thirty feet by sixty feet, it would be a huge project.
We began with the foundation, making provision for the structural supports before pouring the ordinary slab areas. Then came the timber, the brackets, the posts, and the bracing. The roof framework would turn all those preparations into a shelter we could stand beneath.
Most of the guys helped at some point. Hudson, Harry, Jesse, Meerkat, Sandy, Kai, Prince, Dude, River, and Pup worked on it consistently. Grant and a few of the other men brought the experience they had gained building the Lodge itself. With that knowledge and so many willing hands, we felt comfortable taking on the work.
The pavilion went up fairly quickly. Watching its frame rise was amazing. A space we had measured out on the ground became a roof overhead, open sides, and room for the gatherings we had been trying to fit into a much smaller place.
It stood behind the Lodge, looking out across the backyard and toward Acorn Lake. The little gathering place we had begun with had grown into the Acorn Lake Pavilion. We could prepare food, serve it, sit down together, and stay sheltered without losing the pleasure of being outdoors.
Our backyard oasis had truly taken shape. The pavilion was up, the hot tub was finished, and the pool was complete, with its little waterfall spilling into the shallow sitting area. Paths connected the picnic spots, fire pit, and other places we had gradually developed.
Looking around, we could remember digging the pool, pouring the foundation, and raising the frame. We could also put the tools down and enjoy what we had made.
With the backyard and the great room relatively complete, the Lodge had become the center of our days. Between the DJ shows, the VR system, and all the places where we could gather or settle down together, we had built a world we were happy to spend time in.
But we still had Meerkat Park and Macarena Park. Those places belonged to our story, too. Having so much to enjoy at home didn't take away the pleasure of going back.
Today, we were heading to Macarena Park. There was no scheduled cleanup, no project waiting for us, and nothing we needed to finish. We were simply going to spend the day there together.
After all the building and the years of watching our home take shape, it felt good to leave the tools behind and let the day unfold. We had brought our story up to the life we were living. From here, it could grow with us—one gathering, one ordinary morning, and one new adventure at a time.
“With all of these amazing community members, the road goes on forever and the party never ends.”