A video my oldest son Matt sent me of his 16-month-old son, Cole, eating a stick, reminded me — for maybe the thousandth time — how similar little kids are to dogs. And I’m not the only one who’s made this observation. My middle son Greg, who has three little boys (ages 4, 2, and one month)
When Ricky the Beagle used to write this column, he had a good friend named Frankie — a Dachshund. (He even wrote a MY PALS post about him — “Frankie & Roxy.”) Frankie’s still around, and I’ve met him once or twice . . . but now I’ve got my own Dachshund pal, whose name just happens
The week before Memorial Day, Beagle Man brought me in for a bath and a trim. It was super hot that week, and I heard him say to the groomer, “maybe a little shorter than usual, so he’s comfortable in the warmer weather.” As if I’m a toddler getting ready for summer. (Greg and Kelly used
We can hear him going at it, even though we’re in the kitchen. Scratch-scratch-scratch-scratch! That’s Kemba, scuffing at the large, flat cushion on the living room couch, as if he were in the dog park, pawing dirt or grass. Next, he’ll frantically circle that same cushion (you’ve seen dogs chasing their tail? just like that!),
In my next life, I want to be a dog living near the beach in Santa Monica. Quite the sweet deal they have going there. Their ubiquity, their visibility (and the assumption that they belong!) at restaurants and bars, their generally cushy lifestyle, and the sheer number of them, first made an impression on me back in 2011,
Kemba’s making me throw this stuffed Hello Kitty. He won’t chase a ball — ONLY hello Kitty . . . Thus begins a text from Elise, my dog sitter — and it doesn’t surprise me. My boy can be pretty particular about what he chooses to fetch. It’s hard to throw a stuffed animal! Elise continued. (You’ve
It all started in November, when Beagle Man got his new Cherokee. At the same time, he bought the “unlimited” pass at Fred’s. Now we go there at least once a week — sometimes more. And it’s terrifying! I can’t tell you exactly why we go to this house of horrors, but I can tell you exactly what goes on
I’m not gonna lie. I think my dog is gorgeous. The thing is, I’m not the only one — not by a long shot. Every day I get stopped about Kemba’s appearance. Just yesterday, while we were walking around Equinox Pond in Vermont, two different dog-owners expressed variations on this same theme: “That face! He’s the
Did you ever see so much snow??!! Beagle Man’s been going around telling everyone we’re stuck up here in Vermont, and can’t make it home to Connecticut. That we’re “stranded.” Hah! Stranded, my heinie! Sure, we’ve had tons and tons of snow — it never stops! — but somehow Beagle Man managed to make it over to
Jumped out of the shower just in time to see The Man in Orange make yet one more preposterous, self- congratulatory speech — Straight Outta Fantasyland — before jetting out of Dodge. A good start to the day! (Later, listening on radio, I’d hear the Rev. Al Sharpton say, “Pettiness is now on a flight
