Posts by Kemba

I’ve noticed, in the last couple of posts, that Beagle Man’s been featuring my young nephew Pickle quite prominently.  I mean, jeez — why don’t we just start calling the blog BLACK LAB MAN? Last week we were watching Pickle while Robby and Brianne were away.  The little attention-grabber and I wer…

After I’ve completed maybe a trillion fetches of my favorite stick in the surf, what I’ll do is I’ll drop my shoulder, throw myself onto my back, and roll around in the sand.  I do this not just once, but again, and again, and again.  In this way, I’m able to reach not only my back, but my sides a…

I hear from a lot of “experts” that dogs don’t experience time the way humans do.  You can leave your dog for an hour, they say, and to him, it’ll just feel like a second.  There’s probably some truth to this.  But I think they have it backwards.  Here’s how it works. Every morning, when we’re gett…

I knew it would be bad, but not this bad. You’ve been seeing a lot about Pickle, Robby and Brianne’s new puppy, in BEAGLE MAN.  I wrote about him back on February 1 (“Uh-oh.  New-Dog-in-the-Pack-Alert!”).  Remember my prophetic words in that post?  I said, “Can you imagine when little Pickle arriv…

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.  It’s right there in my last post: when Pickle arrives, it’s gonna be Kemba-Who?  Pickle this.  Pickle that.  Might as well call it The Adoration of the Puppy.  Texts, photos, phone calls to everyone in the family — all about Pickle.  Not even so much as a “How’s Kemba…

A week ago, Beagle Man showed me a family text from Robby:  “Everyone, meet Pickle!” The message was under the photo you can see, to the right.  The little whippersnapper (drop-dead adorable, I know, I know) is supposed to arrive at Robby and Brianne’s in two weeks, on February 14.  That’s right…

The drive, I’ll admit, is long. At least an hour up 95 to Hartford. Then another hour up 91 to Brattleboro. And then still another hour — if we’re lucky and don’t hit snow/ice/fog — along 30, which is a twisting-and-turning two-lane blacktop. But even if I’ve been zonked out in the back seat, I can…

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 to be . . .  H…

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 to give…

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…