A video my oldest son Matt sent me of his 16-month-old son, Cole, eating a stick, reminded me — for maybe the thousandth time — how similar little kids are to dogs. And I’m not the only one who’s made this observation. My middle son Greg, who has three little boys (ages 4, 2, and one month)
We can hear him going at it, even though we’re in the kitchen. Scratch-scratch-scratch-scratch! That’s Kemba, scuffing at the large, flat cushion on the living room couch, as if he were in the dog park, pawing dirt or grass. Next, he’ll frantically circle that same cushion (you’ve seen dogs chasing their tail? just like that!),
In my next life, I want to be a dog living near the beach in Santa Monica. Quite the sweet deal they have going there. Their ubiquity, their visibility (and the assumption that they belong!) at restaurants and bars, their generally cushy lifestyle, and the sheer number of them, first made an impression on me back in 2011,
Kemba’s making me throw this stuffed Hello Kitty. He won’t chase a ball — ONLY hello Kitty . . . Thus begins a text from Elise, my dog sitter — and it doesn’t surprise me. My boy can be pretty particular about what he chooses to fetch. It’s hard to throw a stuffed animal! Elise continued. (You’ve
I’m not gonna lie. I think my dog is gorgeous. The thing is, I’m not the only one — not by a long shot. Every day I get stopped about Kemba’s appearance. Just yesterday, while we were walking around Equinox Pond in Vermont, two different dog-owners expressed variations on this same theme: “That face! He’s the
Jumped out of the shower just in time to see The Man in Orange make yet one more preposterous, self- congratulatory speech — Straight Outta Fantasyland — before jetting out of Dodge. A good start to the day! (Later, listening on radio, I’d hear the Rev. Al Sharpton say, “Pettiness is now on a flight
From time to time, circumstances force my hand and I have to leave Kemba with dog sitters. This pains me, because I’m sure he can’t be totally happy when he’s not in my company. My logic behind this belief? Well, I know that I can’t be totally happy when I’m not in his company, and I assume
From time to time, circumstances force my hand and I have to leave Kemba with dog sitters. This pains me, because I’m sure he can’t be totally happy when he’s not in my company. My logic behind this belief? Well, I know that I can’t be totally happy when I’m not in his company, and I assume
Last night, on the first night of Chanukah, Kemba got an orange-and-blue Chuckit Ultra Ball. This is by far his favorite kind of toy. He used to be content with regular tennis balls — he’d fetch them 24/7 — until he decided tennis balls grow on trees and were no longer a big deal. These days only
Heading out to dinner last Friday night. I began scooping up my things — car keys, phone, reading glasses, mask — but I didn’t see my wallet in the drawer by the front door where I usually leave it. “Have you seen my wallet lying around?” I asked Carol. She, of course, gave me the look.
