There’s an awful lot of commotion down in the Beagle Man’s house these days about bringing home this
Toller. E-mails back and forth to the breeder. Plans for a trip to Nova Scotia. The B-Man reading a book about “the power of positive training.” Lining up a dog trainer. Registration for obedience classes. Did I have a trainer? Did I go to obedience classes? Hmmm . . . Cause here’s the way I remember it. Beagle Man, Robby, and Matt came to pick me up at Sandy’s, at her kennel in Massachusetts. Then they drove back down to Connecticut, stopping once to let me pee. (They were very impressed that I went on the side of the road, and not in the car.) I was a little homesick that first day in Westport, and actually had no appetite — certainly the last time that ever happened. And then for the next 11 years, I did exactly what I wanted. Trainer? Nah. Pretty sure I never had one.
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 . .
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