Beagle Man sent around a family text earlier this week with a link to a New York Times article.  It was called “Remembering the One and Only Uno” (Richard Sandomir).  Well, I sure do.  Remember him, that is.  Uno was one of my idols.  He was the first Beagle to ever win Best in Show at Westminster, the Big Cahuna of all dog shows — and as you probably gathered, he passed away last week.  The piece mentioned that his big win came back in 2008.  Matt texted to all of us,...

Yep, here I am, back home at the beach after my two weeks at “sleep-away camp.”  (Don’t worry, I never fell for that sleep-away camp story.  I’m not stupid. I just played along because I could tell how guilty Beagle Man felt about sending me.)  Actually, my “counselor” Marlon turned out to be a pretty cool guy, though at first we had a bit of a Together again communication problem.  He used this funky language I’d never heard before:...

Last first-thing-in-the-morning beach walk before camp . . . No paws up on my side of the bed this morning.  No licks and kisses to wake me up.  No fetch/walk along the beach before breakfast.  No watching my dog jump up on his hind legs with excitement as I pour kibble into his bowl, and fill his other dish with ice water.  (Not just plain old water; water with a ton of ice cubes for my boy.) Yes, Kemba’s off having fun at “sleep-away camp.”  That’s the way...

Seriously — does this look like a comfortable way to sleep??  (Photo cred: C. Fass)

The smallest of the AKC’s retrievers, the Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever is intelligent, affectionate, and eager to please. Play fetch with a tireless Toller until your right arm falls off, and he will ask you to throw left-handed.                                         — American Kennel Club One of my absolute favorite things about Kemba’s personality is that he’s always up for anything I want to do.  I grab the car Kemba tries as hard as he can to...

I’ll bet most of you have figured out by now that Beagle Man is a creature of habit.  That’s why, when he walks through the door at Jack’s Coffee in Amagansett in the morning, Brian, the manager, In front of Jack’s, on our bench will say, “The Hank-wich?”  (That’s egg-and-cheese on a baguette, FYI, which Beagle Man orders every single day.)  And Chanisse or Kelly or one of the other baristas will say, “And a large cold brew with...

Out with the old . . . A few weeks ago, we moved from the only house I’ve ever known.  (Not counting Shelley and Steve’s, in Ardoise, Nova Scotia — but that was only for 10 weeks, and to be perfectly honest, I only know about that because Beagle Man told me so.)  It was weird: Little by little, stuff started disappearing.  First, no more beige easy chair in the bedroom to fall asleep on.  Then, no blue couch in the playroom where I’d watch out for cars and...

MOVING DAY:  “So you’re saying this is the last time I get to play fetch on this lawn?  Seriously??”   

Hey, I just saw this AMAZING post about last Saturday’s Royal Wedding.  I’m talking about the one they’ve been calling the Royal Wedding that took place in England; we all know the real Royal Wedding that day was at Claxton Farm in North Carolina.  (My congrats, of course, to Matt and Alison.) The post — which I copied, below — comes from Amy Nelson of Arizona.  One of Beagle Man’s Teaneck High classmates forwarded it to him, and I saw it on his laptop....

“Hmm . . . bet this guy’s pretty good at throwing” Here’s how it works:  I pull into my spot in the parking lot at Winslow, open the door, and Kemba makes a mad scramble for the scuffed dirt area near the water fountain.  There he waits — stock still — for me to emerge from the car, cock my right arm, and launch that first tennis ball from my trusty blue Chuck-it.  My dog dashes for it as if his very life hangs in the balance, leaps high in the air to snag it...