My first summer out here in Amagansett — the summer of ’15, when I was 10 months old — I did something that really freaked out Beagle Man and Mom. Beagle Man had gone for a bike ride, and I was hanging with Mom on the deck outside their bedroom. Then she decided to go for her
Of course my first MY PALS column is about Ruckus: He’s more than my pal — he’s my brother. We do everything together. Everything. If I pee, he’ll pee right over it. Same spot. And vice versa. When we get separated, we’re both really sad. While we’re together, though, we play nonstop. Ruckus always wins tug-of-war. Wrestling,
All right, here’s the prize break-down in Matt’s 45-man March Madness pool: First place: $1,250; second place: $600; third place: $300; fourth place: $50; last place: $50 worth of (top-quality) toilet paper. And though Beagle Man won’t come out and say it, I know what he’s thinking: that he’s gonna win the whole shebang. Just listen to him,
There’s something strange going on. Listen to this. Duke, a new dog, came to visit me in Vermont weekend before last. He was cute and curly — a Labradoodle, I think. At first he seemed kind of wimpy when I started wrestling with him (the way I do with Ruckus all the time), but I have
Finally . . . back in the saddle! Vermont this time. But only after spending seven consecutive nights under the same roof! Can you imagine?! For one full week I didn’t get to sniff out a new motel room! Or sit and watch Beagle Man check every closet and every drawer before pushing the luggage cart out to the parking
I haven’t really complained to Beagle Man yet, but I can tell you guys: I’ve kind of had it with life on the road. I don’t like these Best Westerns nearly as much as the Loews Santa Monica Beach Hotel. And I’m sick of the car. I don’t even care if I can have the shotgun seat.
At 11 o’clock this morning, Beagle Man posted —and I quote — “He’s been an absolutely perfect and wonderful dog so far on this trip.” That’s me he’s talking about, just so you know. One hour later, he’s screaming his guts out at me. Can I please tell my side of the story? So we
* * *COUNTDOWN: 17 DAYS TO LA/XC-5 * * * What? We’re picking up and driving from here to Los Angeles — again? I thought that trip back in April of 2015 was a one-off! What a nightmare! Does Beagle Man even remember? How I was so nuts over being stuck in the car all
Weekend before last, on Friday afternoon, this monstrous, huge, scary ball appeared out of nowhere on the beach, in front of the White Sands Motel. I made sure to keep as much ground between me and it as possible. Beagle Man didn’t seem upset by the thing; he was focused on the lights being strung up, and said,
Are you kidding me? Another Kemba in the dog park?? Whaaat??? Of course I knew there was a person named Kemba. Kemba Walker, the basketball player from UConn. You know, my namesake? I get that. But another dog named Kemba? Who hangs out in Winslow Park, where I hang out? That’s just too weird, I’m sorry. But it’s true. I
