When you run off down the block, and I have to do The Walk of Shame after you — trying to look like it’s no big deal, while I’ve got a leash in my hand and no dog attached to it.  (That would be you, Ruckus.) When you’re playing fetch at the beach with some stranger you’ve accosted, and it’s time…

Kemba, what the heck!!?? Last night around 10 I sent him out to the backyard for his goodnight pee.  Fairly normal stuff.  Sometimes he’ll prowl the property a bit, though there’s not a helluva lot to explore, since the downsize.  Or he might grab a tennis ball to gnaw some holes into.  I’ll usual…

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…

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 pre…

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…

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…

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, will say, “The Hank-wich?”  (That’s egg-and-cheese on a baguette, FYI, which Beagle Man orders every s…

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 disappearin…