Here’s how it works: I pull into my spot in the parking lot at Winslow, open the door, and Kemba makes a mad scramble for the scuffed dirt area near the water fountain. There he waits — stock still — for me to emerge from the car, cock my right arm, and launch that first
Ah, such a good day we had planned! What a great adventure it would be! A sunny Sunday with my son Greg, my grandson, Ryan, Greg’s dog, Ruckus, and Kemba — all of us heading off for a hike around Lake Mohegan. Greg and Ryan (in his baby seat) in Greg’s SUV, me and the
Carol had signed up both of us for last Saturday’s March For Our Lives, Manchester VT edition. I told her I’d go — unless the skiing was too good to pass up. I was joking. I’d always intended to take part. The gun violence issue was out of control. You couldn’t stay on the sidelines
Nope, this is not a P.S. to last month’s post on those low-life service dog scammers. This is about a real comfort dog. He’s got no official vest, and he doesn’t have special dispensation to hang with me at bars or travel with me on planes. But man, does this dog ever give me comfort! Last weekend
So there we were, Matt and I, sitting in front of Jack’s Coffee in Amagansett, eating our egg-and-cheese, drinking our beverage. Relaxing. Not sure if this was last summer or the one before; doesn’t really matter. A guy who Matt apparently knows starts talking to us. He’s carrying in his arms a small dog wearing
If you can remember back to when your kids were little, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. Or if you have a dog you treat like a little kid, you’ll also know what I’m talking about. Kemba had a stomach bug last week. He didn’t look happy. And I felt miserable. Dogs with medical difficulties
