Posts by Ricky

A Win-Win

I’m not really sure if there’s any logic to the connection between how the Jets do on the field and how I get treated — but it’s sure as hell there! On Sunday, when Tampa Bay had all but stuck a fork in the Jets, Beagle Man was giving me zero treats, was late on my 3PM meds-and-banana, and was …

And Why Would I Be Running Away?

I’ve been meaning to address this for a long time: I don’t know why Beagle Man treats me like fine china. It’s nuts. Two years ago, on LA/XC-1, he wouldn’t carry his stuff from the car to the motel room without keeping me right alongside him on the leash. Last year he got the brilliant idea o…

Okay, So That Explains Half the Trip . . .

* * * COUNTDOWN: 6 DAYS TO LA/XC-3 * * * I was gonna tell Beagle Man that he left out a pretty important detail from yesterday’s post — how we’re gonna get back from L.A. after delivering the Pathfinder to Robby — but two readers beat me to the punch. (Thanks, Bill and Mary. And by the way, …

Sit. Stay. Drink.

* * * COUNTDOWN: 31 DAYS TO LA/XC-3 * * * Okay, it may not be as awesome as Beagle Man’s Dog Bark Park Inn, but here’s the place I really want to go. Which probably means we won’t. Sure, I get to write whatever I want in the Roof Rack Report — but the B-Man is still in the driver’s seat. An…

The (New) Official Vehicle of LA/XC-3

For reasons not entirely clear to me, Beagle Man and the missus got rid of the trusty old Acura MDX that carried us across the country and back in comfort and style not once, but twice — and that I fully expected would be our vehicle for the upcoming LA/XC-3 — and replaced it with a brand-new (un…

Left Behind, Again

Every Friday this summer I watch Beagle Man packing up the car. The big green duffel. Mrs. B’s red, flowery overnight bag. B-Man’s backpack. The blue beach bag with the RKH on the side. And then, they pat me on the head, say, “Bye-bye, Cutey” . . . and take off without me! Talk about cruelt…

My Trip To Town Hall

Beagle Man asked Robby to lift me into the shotgun seat of his Jeep. He always says it’s because of his back, but I think he just gets lazy. Anyway, he told Robby he was taking me to Town Hall to renew my dog license. “What does he need a dog license for?” Robby asked. “To show he’s a dog?” …

And They Pay Someone To Do This?

I was reading an article in The New York Times awhile back that gave me paws. (Aha! Two “gotcha’s” in the same sentence! You didn’t know I could read, and you thought Beagle Man was the only one around here who could make stupid puns.) It was about [caption id=”attachment_3292″ align=”alignri…

Why You Gotta Be So Mean?

Robby and his college friends, Sam and Jon, had just come back from golf at Longshore. Though I’d been hanging with them just a few hours earlier, I act as if I haven’t seen them in years — I do this — my tail wagging furiously. So of course they [caption id=”attachment_3276″ align=”alignright”…

Go For It, Nena!

When I was a puppy, I actually loved going to the vet. I’d bound up the stairs, dart into the waiting room, sit back and let everyone admire me. Next, I’d smell all the dogs’ heinies, try to steal some kibble from the “take some if you need it” pile (I needed it), [caption id=”attachment_3258″ …