You name it, it’s my fault.  In my house I get blamed for everything sports-related.  Robby didn’t play high school lacrosse?  My fault for raising him to be a baseball pl…

Romeo and Juliet. Antony and Cleopatra. Superman and Lois Lane. Bogart and Bacall. Ricky and Nena. It might not have quite the same ring, but you should see the two of

Of course you remember the Coneheads, from the planet Remulak.  Dan Aykroyd as Beldar.  Jane Curtin as Prymaat.  Laraine Newman as their daughter, Connie.  Chugging entire six-packs of beer at o…

We were on our way back to our friends Jeff and Joan’s house in Alexandria,

Virginia, after a rousing celebration of our anni…

On June 12, right after I wrote a blog post about two beagles I run into frequently down at Southport Harbor (“Is It Maggie and Dutch?”), I got called on the carpet via an e-mail from Robby: Not a good post at all.  Not helped by the fact that there’s no Ricky picture — that’s the best freaking …

Anyone who enters our playroom via the garage between 1 and 2:30 PM will all but trip over an eage…

I stepped out the front door of our house in Vermont on Saturday to go for a run — and was almost bowled over by a high-spirited, hyper-friendly young Kerry Blue terrier who came bounding at me lik…

I’m not sure how, or why, it happened.  That two weeks ago was my birthday?  That it was Thanksgiving weekend — and this was part of the family spirit?  Wa…

Yes, I did become something of a Garmin junkie during LA/XC — but deep down, I’m all about maps.  About getting directions in advance.  About being prepared.  About knowing where I’m going. I…

A couple of weeks ago Beagle Man received a very interesting request:  I was invited to be on the panel of judges for Westport Animal Shelter Advocates’ (WASA) Top Dog photo/essay contest.  My name had been …