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
Lye Brook Falls. Lye Brook Falls. All winter, whenever we’ve done hikes in the woods, I keep hearing about the time back in the fall of 2013 — I wasn’t even born yet! —that Beagle Man and Langdon and Mike made it up to Lye Brook Falls. No disrespect, but if those oldies could get
It’s been a great Friday so far. And yes, I do know my days of the week. Duh. I can also tell time, though this may be news to Beagle Man’s friend Rick. Has anyone ever taken note of the fact that I wake Beagle Man every morning at 8 o’clock, give or take a couple of
I’d be lying if I said I’m not a little bit worried. Beagle Man leaves tonight for his annual Alps ski trip with Matt and Greg and their friends. I saw him packing his bags. That means Mom’s in charge of me. Which is fine. . . in certain ways. I mean, I’ll get fed.
I’ve been hearing all the buzz about this so-called “nephew” of mine since early November, but I was starting to wonder if he was really real. First I’m not allowed to see him because he has pneumonia. Then, he’s all better, but he’s still “contagious.” And when he’s finally not contagious, I’m stuck with a bandage