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…

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…

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 trus…