Cole eating a stick . . . A video my oldest son Matt sent me of his 16-month-old son, Cole, eating a stick, reminded me — for maybe the thousandth time — how similar little kids are to dogs.  And I’m not the only one who’s made this observation.  My . . . Kemba loves ’em, too middle son Greg, who has three little boys (ages 4, 2, and one month) and a dog, says exactly the same thing all the time. The kids-and-dogs likeness came to mind a couple of times this week —...

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 . . .  Hank!  You should have seen this little guy when I first met him on the beach a couple of Meet Hank the Frank! weeks ago: I was fetching the green ball in the...

The week before Memorial Day, Beagle Man brought me in for a bath and a trim. I haven’t felt this naked . . . 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 Ryan and Henry the buzz cut treatment, but they gave it up.  Just not attractive.)  Trouble What I think of my new haircut...

Before “Kemba’s Interiors” begins: Note that everything is in its proper place We can hear him going at it, even though we’re in the kitchen.  Scratch-scratch-scratch-scratch!  That’s Kemba, scuffing at the large, flat cushion on the living room couch, as if he were in the dog park, pawing dirt or grass.  Next, he’ll frantically circle that same cushion (you’ve seen dogs chasing their tail?  just like that!), surveying, it would seem, for...

Kemba couldn’t come along, so I had to make some new friends: Finn and Gigi In my next life, I want to be a dog living near the beach in Santa Monica.  Quite the sweet deal they have going there. Their ubiquity, their visibility (and the assumption that they belong!) at restaurants and bars, their generally cushy lifestyle, and the sheer number of them, first made an impression on me back in 2011, when Robby was attending some sort of campus meet-and-greet prior to his...

Kemba’s making me throw this stuffed Hello Kitty.  He won’t chase a ball — ONLY hello Kitty . . . Hello Kitty:  Kemba’s obsession (of the day) Thus begins a text from Elise, my dog sitter — and it doesn’t surprise me.  My boy can be pretty particular about what he chooses to fetch. It’s hard to throw a stuffed animal!  Elise continued.  (You’ve met Elise before, in a January post, Kemba and Friends.)  I made a wild throw, and Hello Kitty ended up...

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 goes on there.  For starters, scary men with big long sticks sponge the outside of the car.  Then a bunch of lights — red! blue! — flash on and off.  Next, it...

I’m not gonna lie.  I think my dog is gorgeous.  The thing is, I’m not the only one — not by a long shot.  Every day I get stopped about Kemba’s appearance.  Just yesterday, while we were walking around Equinox Pond in Vermont, two different dog-owners expressed variations on this same theme:  “That face!  He’s the most beautiful dog I’ve ever seen!”  Then, the inevitable next question:  “What kind of dog is that?” Take out your...

They’ve sent this photo to everyone! Did you ever see so much snow??!!  Beagle Man’s been going around telling everyone we’re stuck up here in Vermont, and can’t make it home to Connecticut.  That we’re “stranded.”  Hah!  Stranded, my heinie!  Sure, we’ve had tons and tons of snow — it never stops! — but somehow Beagle Man managed to make it over to Stratton on Sunday and Bromley on Monday and Wild Wings on Tuesday and Magic today....

Jumped out of the shower just in time to see The Man in Orange make yet one more preposterous, self- Miracles can happen! congratulatory speech — Straight Outta Fantasyland — before jetting out of Dodge.  A good start to the day!  (Later, listening on radio, I’d hear the Rev. Al Sharpton say, “Pettiness is now on a flight to Florida” — or words to that effect.  Well put, Rev!) Then I drove into town for (yet another) Covid test, prepping for a visit later this week...