Beagle Man and I were down at Compo Beach yesterday — and boy, was it a beautiful morning!  (I hope you can make out the sun sparkling on the water in the photo, right.)  I dashed over toward the cannons, as I always do, and when I got there, this lady started making a huge fuss over me.  Soon I r…

Beagle Man always pats me on the head and tells me I’m a “good, good boy” — but I suppose I could try to be even better . . . •  I will keep my paws off the kitchen counter, and stay away from Mom’s chicken quesadillas.  I’ll be happy with my same-old same-old kibble — jazzed up  with the occasiona…

It’s an oft-told Herman family tale this time of year. December 25, 2003 — Ricky the Beagle’s first Christmas.  Matt is 22.  Robby is 10.  (Greg is 19, but he’s not part of this story.  Sorry, Greg.)  Matt and Robby are locked in one of their weird competitions:  Whose gift will Ricky like better…

You guys all know how I feel about Beagle Man.  I’d do anything with him, and I’d go anywhere with him.  (Even though he didn’t take me on the Epilogue Trip.)  But there’s one thing I have to say:  He’s a little bit strict and stingy when it comes to food.  He claims it’s for my health — I had a ba…

He’s ba-a-a-ck!  That’s right, the Beagle Man has landed — right here in WePo after 21 days on the road.  Of course, first order of business was his mushy reunion with Kemba, who bowled B-Man over, slurped up his face, reached his paws onto Beagle Man’s shoulders in a doggy-style hug . . . yada-yad…

Gained a co-pilot in Asheville: Carol.  Then lost one in Greensboro: Matt, who stayed down in North Carolina to celebrate Thanksgiving with his in-laws.  Matt put in two strong stints: one back at the beginning, on the Bourbon Trail and then up to Indianapolis; plus here on the southeastern swing…

Beagle Man (on Friday’s afternoon’s drive along I-40 East with Matt, closing in on Asheville, NC):  Hey, since our dinner reservation isn’t till 8:30 tonight, I think I’ll use the downtime to do some catching up and to write a blog post. Matt:  Sounds good. The next moment, a text arrives for both…

I’ll never forget my dad’s first herniated disc. We were sitting in the bleachers at Compo watching Dad play softball, when the batter hit a pop-up just foul of third base. Hammerin’ Hank races in from left field and OWWWWWW! Life would never be the same.  Not really that bad, to be honest. Just i…

About a month ago, my mom was in the city for a meeting, or a haircut, or something like that. That evening, we had dinner together at Via Carota, my favorite Italian spot in the West Village. As we enjoyed the delicious Cacio e Pepe and Rigatoni Pomodoro, we talked about the basics: work, my new a…

I’d fully intended to kick off this post with my latest enchantment at the Grand Canyon, but in between my day there and today’s arrival in Santa Monica, I spent last night in Sin City.  And it left me speechless!  So I have to get it out of my system right away.  Yes, I was here once before, ever…