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
Matt’s 36. Greg is 33. Robby’s 24. So you’d think my days of dealing with sibling rivalry were history. Then came Kemba. And Baby Ryan. Technically, they’re not siblings. (Okay, technically they’re not even the same species.) But now that Greg and Kelly have moved up from NYC to WePo, Kemba and Ryan spend lots of time
You’ve met Jake before: First, as one of Ricky the Beagle’s “Best Friends” (back in 2011), and more recently, as the killer of already-dead bunnies (“Rabbit Stew?“). Jake, along with Nancy and Steve, came to stay with us last week. He got three days worth of intense, one-on-one time with Kemba. And if Jake could
Mount Rushmore took a big hit last Monday. Tom Petty’s passing left a gaping hole in the Beagle Man’s personal musical stratosphere. TP’s nine-and-a-half songs in My Favorite 300 Songs Ever rank second — behind only The Boss, and ahead of the Rolling Stones! (The “half” represents “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around,” Petty’s 1981 duet with Stevie Nicks, which
Eleven-thirty, Friday night, September 8. I’d already opted for an E.T.B. (that’s sleepaway camp terminology for early- to-bed) — when I heard screams and commotion coming from the first floor. I wasn’t inclined to go back down and investigate, because a.) this was Carol’s annual husband-and-wife Book Club Weekend in Amagansett, and there were more
Yesterday’s excitement started shortly after Kemba’s daily first-thing-in-the-morning beach session (pee/poop/fetch-sticks-in-ocean). The sky was already beginning to look ominous, and a thunderstorm was in the forecast — but I had planned to go for a run, and you all know how much I love changing my plans. My one concession to the impending weather was that
“Hey, could you bring down some rope from the house so we can cordon off our section of the beach to stop the crowds from pouring in?” I said this to Robby’s friend Gabe. It was my attempt to make fun of myself before my sons and their buddies could start doing it for me. We were
