For whatever masochistic reason, I find myself from time to time thinking morbid thoughts about how I’ll feel when Kemba, you know . . . reaches his time. That is, if I’m still around. (At my age, not a slam-dunk.) I further torture myself by going back to when our beloved Ricky the Beagle died suddenly of
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Packing light? Nah. I scrapped that as a goal long ago. When I’m getting ready for a get-away, I want everything with me that I could conceivably need, or want. Might have time to go for a run? Running shoes. Maybe a nice, long, scenic bike ride? Dri-fit shorts and T-shirts. Body-surfing? A swimsuit, obviously. Have tickets
Austria avalanche kills 3; Ski patrollers killed in France (Washington Post, January 13, 2019) At 24, NFL player retires after his 6th concussion: ‘My well-being is more important’ (Today, August 2, 2018) Teen Surf Star Loses Arm in Shark Attack (ABC News, November 3, 2003) Yes, skiing the Alps can be dangerous, I think we’d
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When you run off down the block, and I have to do The Walk of Shame after you — trying to look like it’s no big deal, while I’ve got a leash in my hand and no dog attached to it. (That would be you, Ruckus.) When you’re playing fetch at the beach with some
Kemba, what the heck!!?? Last night around 10 I sent him out to the backyard for his goodnight pee. Fairly normal stuff. Sometimes he’ll prowl the property a bit, though there’s not a helluva lot to explore, since the downsize. Or he might grab a tennis ball to gnaw some holes into. I’ll usually see
No paws up on my side of the bed this morning. No licks and kisses to wake me up. No fetch/walk along the beach before breakfast. No watching my dog jump up on his hind legs with excitement as I pour kibble into his bowl, and fill his other dish with ice water. (Not just
