Like most days, Lewis was walking his human.

Alone, they walked through the rolling foothills on the southern edge of the Beartooth Mountains, Lewis leading the way.

The Australian shepherd and his human partner, David “Mountain Man” Hofmann, rarely part. They’re truly best friends.

Hofmann had earned his nickname from East Coast friends for his escapades in the woods of upstate New York long before moving to Clark. He was known to hunt alone, living off the land for days. He couldn’t be happier when he landed in Wyoming. He’s living his dream.

The two dawdled down a double-track path, winding to the skinny dirt road that leads to their home. Lewis was about 10 yards ahead and out of sight at the end of the path when the sound of tires skidding on gravel and Lewis crying out sent Hofmann into a panic.

Lewis limped off, heading back toward the cabin and unwilling to stop when called. The vehicle kept moving.

Hofmann was no longer the gray-bearded mountain man with a gun strapped to his side. Tears streamed from his eyes as he searched for Lewis and cursed the driver. Thirty minutes later he was a wreck, unable to find his friend and fearing the worst. Alone and afraid, Hofmann reached out to some folks who he knew would be there for comfort — the thousands of fans of Lewis (of Clark).

The road to fame

About 15 years ago, Hofmann took a vacation from his job with the U.S. Postal Service on Long Island. He landed in Yellowstone National Park and fell in love. “I’ve got my cameras and love wildlife,” he said.

Hofmann continued to make trips to the park twice a year — in early May and late September — for the next six years and was making the best photographs of his life. He couldn’t shake the desire to return for good, so eventually he retired from his government job and headed west. He was so intent on moving to Park County that he left his wife behind, vowing to catch up when she could get there. That was almost three years ago.

“I’m a country boy at heart and knew, oh my God, this is where I want to die,” Hofmann said.

He was home and mostly happy, but lonely. His wife, Linda, was only able to come for short visits every few months.

Then one day he met a couple with a 12-week old Australian shepherd while touring Sunlight Basin. He had to have one. He sought out the breeders of the “little cottonball” and picked Lewis from the litter.

“He was so full of energy and attentive,” Hofmann recalled.

On the way home to Clark he told his new friend, “I’m going to call you Lewis.” It still makes him chuckle, his bright blue eyes turning happy when he tells the story in his deep New York accent.

He didn’t know it at the time, but Lewis had picked him. The dog soon began going everywhere with Hofmann.

“He’s my partner,” Hofmann said.

Alone in the wilderness, Hofmann started taking pictures of Lewis with his cellphone. He posted the well-composed photos online, showing his pup in a nice bandana as they hiked endlessly through the Shoshone National Forest, the Clarks Fork Canyon, in front of the fireplace and even the backyard — which to many would seem like a state park, complete with a backdrop of towering peaks. Hofmann is obsessed with photographing his friend. It’s obvious in each frame that he loved Lewis, and soon the dog developed a following.

Fans send gifts, including many bandanas. When each arrives, Hofmann pulls out his phone, takes another picture and posts it. Lewis (of Clark) needed his own Facebook page.

“The outpouring of love for him is truly amazing,” Hofmann said. “I mean, he’s just a dog you know, but he makes people happy.”

Western challenges

Life in the west is a steep learning curve for the Hofmanns. “It’s not like Long Island,” he said. “It’s not as easy.”

Shortly after moving to Clark, Linda and David decided to add other critters to their family. They bought chickens first for fresh eggs. Then they decided to get mules for long trips into the forest.

In a practice run, Linda fell from the saddle when her young mule bolted. She broke 10 ribs, punctured a lung and broke her collarbone. It was a compound fracture. Linda was in shock, walking back to the driveway front of the cabin before collapsing.

“I just laid there thinking this is probably bad,” she said. “[David] was in tears and yelling, ‘Don’t you die on me.’”

“I’m a pretty emotional guy,” David said apologetically as his eyes got misty.    

David couldn’t get cell service from the cabin so he ran to the neighbor and asked for help. Soon Clark’s first responders arrived and got Linda to Cody. From there she was transferred to Billings. They were amazed by the speed of the response and the honest advice they were given.

It’s going to be a while before Linda is 100 percent. And it will be at least many more months before she can move to Clark permanently. But when she does, she wants to offer her services as a registered nurse to the Clark emergency squad. “When I finally move here I want to help. They were amazing,” Linda said.

She has yet to get back in the saddle.

“We’ve taken out horses back east, but we’ve never saddled anything. I’ll be more cautious in the future,” Linda said.

Spending time in Billings caring for Linda was the first time David was separated from Lewis.

Finding Lewis

After November’s hit-and-run, it took Hofmann 45 minutes to find Lewis. By that time, Hofmann — who posted the sad news on Facebook — was in a full-blown panic.

He wanted to clutch his dog, but the pain was too much and Lewis wouldn’t let him near for a while. By the time they were able to get Lewis to the vet in Cody, Hofmann’s Facebook page was going crazy.

More than 1,100 people sent well wishes and offered prayers for Lewis’ speedy recovery. Hofmann read each, tears once again streaming down his face as he responded.

Meanwhile, X-rays at the vet office revealed no permanent damage; Lewis simply needed time.

“If I didn’t have Lewis here, I don’t know if I could do it,” Hofmann said. “There are days when I don’t see anyone.”

He visits his neighbor, Tom, on occasions. Once in a while “the UPS lady” brings a package and, if he times it right, he can see the postman a mile up the road at the neighborhood mailboxes. The rest of the time he watches wildlife and talks to Lewis like he was a brother or son, depending on the day.

“He’s like Wilson,” he said referring to the volleyball in the movie Castaway.

Hofmann’s new friends on social media accounts help. When he first started to post photographs of Lewis few noticed. Then, folks from around the state started to follow his posts. At first there were only a few “likes.” But gradually his audience grew. Now thousands follow Lewis — not only from across the country, but from several countries. He’s surprised by the following. “It’s unbelievable. They’ve never met him, but they say ‘Lewis makes me happy.’”

Yes, Lewis is just a dog. His fame, at least in part, is the landscapes where Hofmann photographs his fluffy buddy. It’s hard to know what will be popular on social media accounts. But even if it ends tomorrow, David, Linda, Lewis, the chickens and mules will have each other in their dream home in Wyoming.