Last weekend we hosted Carol’s book group out here in Montauk. While Kemba was the only dog present (he liked, did not love, Moonglow by Michael Chabon; complained that the only pet who played a major role was Ramon, Sally’s cat), dogs seemed to be front and center in every conversation we had. Steven, whose dog, Jake, passed away not long ago, was texting 24/7 with the “broker” he’d commissioned to locate the perfect rescue for him. Hal and Carole were constantly being barraged with photos of Ralphie, the brand-new — and drop-dead-adorable — Golden puppy their son and daughter-in-law-to-be had just picked up and brought home. Dogs, dogs, dogs.
At one point we were all sitting around the table having lunch, and my phone rang. Actually, “rang” is an understatement. It bellowed. (My ringtone is Eric Church raucously snarling a few lines from “Drink In My Hand.) Kathleen, who was nearest the phone, handed it to me. In so doing, she noticed that a photo of Ricky the Beagle — not Kemba — was my screen saver, and asked me why.
Jeep . . .
“It never occurred to me to change it,” I said. “And I wouldn’t know how if I wanted to.” Which may have been true . . . but it was only half the story. The fact is, I don’t like to remove any remnant of Ricky — from anything. It feels like a betrayal.
I got my Jeep Wrangler in the year 2000. I got Ricky in 2003. Ricky passed away in 2014. His collar and tag still adorn the Jeep’s stick shift.
I embarked on my first cross-country road trip (ultimately, there’d be five) in 2011. Ricky rode shotgun. I had business cards printed up, featuring a photo of me with Ricky, so that people who fell in love with Ricky along the way (and believe me, there were many!) could follow us on my blog. In 2014, after Ricky had gone on to doggy heaven and Kemba became Sundance to my Butch Cassidy, I added Kemba to the B-side of the card, but kept Ricky out front on the A-side.
Ricky’s presence, though, runs deeper than his collar in my Jeep or his image on my card. Ricky was the first Herman family dog. He’s what turned me into a “dog person.” He’s the beagle in my Beagle Man identity. I never considered changing my handle to “Duck Toller Man.” (Who the hell would know what that means, anyway?) Every day Ricky’s name comes up. Over the weekend, when Kemba made a tentative foray toward Hal’s sandwich, we, of course, re-told for the thousandth time the story of Ricky scarfing down the bagel Hal had labored over lovingly (including stopping at three different stores for particular ingredients) for more than an hour. When Kemba is, at times, reluctant to go out in the rain for a walk and someone will call him stubborn, the response from everyone in the family is the same: “You call that stubborn? You never met Ricky the Beagle!” There are still framed photos of Ricky in virtually every room in our house.
Some six weeks ago, all blogs — including Beagle Man — were taken down from the Hearst Connecticut Media platform. (Something about the blogs being hacked, yadayadayada. Once they told me I wouldn’t be on Hearst anymore, I stopped listening.) So after 11 years, I had to move Beagle Man to a new, independent host; you might have noticed the slightly different — and spiffier, I hope — look. Also, please cut me some slack on tech glitches: I’m getting used to an entirely new process of posting . . . and you all know how good I am with change. As a result of this transition, it’s occurred to me that I need to update my Beagle Man card to reflect the new URL: https://beagleman.net
Which raises the question: Do I flip the script, and finally promote Kemba to top billing on the front of the card, and demote Ricky to the back? After all, it’s been seven years since Ricky passed. It’s “Hank and Kemba” to everyone in the dog park these days, not “Hank and Ricky.”
Should I make the change? Will I? Can I?
YOU CAN ALSO FOLLOW BEAGLE MAN, KEMBA, AND RICKY ON FACEBOOK AND INSTAGRAM.
Tough call Hank. You could go the old TV Guide route and ‘publish’ multiple cover versions.
Clever idea. 😉
I think the answer is in your post. Ricky is what turned you into a dog person. Beagle Man is more than a name. It does not mean you live Kemba any less, in fact your lifestyle orobably identfies you more with Kemba, but if not for Ricky there would not have been a Kemba.
I know I an prejudiced being the beagle lover myself, but we all have that one dog that will always define us.
Excellent point.
You know I’m a traditionalist…so Ricky it is. Love the new blog layout.
Glad to hear!
There is always “that dog” when you’ve had more than one doggy friend. You love them all, but many times the quirkiest one iis the one who fills your heart. For us it was our 5th dog Abby,
Write about Abby!
tough decision. Seems like you’ve come up with a nice solution with the doggies on front and back covers!
I’m not a good source for guidance –I’ve never had another dog or pet of any kind since Thor, my German shepherd, died in 1981! I never ever thought of getting another dog– something never felt right. . Is there such a thing as canine monogamy? And if there is , really, is it a good thing? (Besides I was too busy nursing my grief with 2 -3 x daily breaks to a nearby Seduto for double maple- walnut cones. Forty pounds later I realized that work and travel schedule made a moot point of giving a four-legged companion a decent home. ) But back to you—front and back covers seem great way to keep both doggies close at hand, so to speak.
Agreed!
Hank: You know how much of a beagle lover I am. Isaac is my 7th. I would keep the title as “Beagle Man”. Every time I read
your stories, I am reminded of how much you and your family loved Ricky, although they are about Kemba with a little bit of Ricky in them.
Yup, you got that right!