Ho, Ho, Ho!

Day before Christmas.  Everyone in my house is running around tying up loose ends.  I guess I’ll do the same, since it appears nobody’s going to pay any attention to me.  I probably won’t even get fed.  Okay, first thing — the answer to Beagle Man’s cutesy little “Where’s Ricky?” puzzle from last Friday:  I was down by the rocks, near the small tree.  (I had ideas about going down to the stream for a nice drink of cold water, but the footing was kind of tricky.)  Linda, Kathleen, and Mary all spotted me there.  Good work, guys.

Also, I want to give a shout-out to Emily and Shelby, the two college girls who saved the day for B-Man and me on our Lake Mohegan hike the day this photo was taken.  We’d been walking forever when the two of them,

along with Curtis, Shelby’s yellow Lab, came by.  The B-Man thinks they approached us because he was wearing his USC wool cap and Emily was wearing a USC baseball cap — but I’m sure it was me playing the role of chick magnet, as usual.  When we all reached the main parking lot by the beach, I just stopped:  There was no freaking way I was going to keep hiking all the way back to the rapids, where our car was parked.  So Beagle Man asked the girls if they’d give us a lift, which I thought was pretty brazen.  But as you

can see from the pix, they did it.  Thank God.

So now, I’m just wondering what I’m going to get for Christmas.  I already know what I’m not getting.  I’m not getting to go to Fort Lauderdale, where Beagle Man and the Mrs. and Matt and Greg and Robby are all flying tomorrow.  (Something about a Jets-Dolphins game.)  And I’m not getting to go to Vermont, where they’re driving the day after they get back.  I guess it’ll just be me and Luz for the holidays.  Which means total, undivided attention, 24/7.  And treats whenever I want them.  And hanging with Nena the Chihuahua.  I suppose things could be worse.

The Roof Rack Report (#roofrackreport on Twitter, for those who follow me already on @BeagleManHank) appears on Mondays, usually.  Actually, whenever Beagle Man decides to give me some space . . .