Ricky was my co-pilot on the first 3 of my 5 cross-country road trips. (Here we are in San Fran in 2011) Last weekend we hosted Carol’s book group out here in Montauk. While Kemba was the only dog present (he liked, did not love, Moonglow by Michael Chabon; complained that the only pet who…

Who’s this handsome dude named for? Kemba. KEM-ba. K-E-M-B-A. Seriously — is that so hard? Robby named him. For Kemba Walker, of course — the ex-UConn star who is now, I’m thrilled to say, a member of the New York Knicks. It was Robby who also named Ricky the Bea…

To honor Kemba on this, his 7th birthday, here’s a poem celebrating his life on the beach. The verses that follow should be recited to the rhythm and meter of Ernest Lawrence Thayer’s “Casey at the Bat.” It’s my favorite poem. It’s also the only poem I know. Happy Birthday, Kemba…

A video my oldest son Matt sent me of his 16-month-old son, Cole, eating a stick, reminded me — for maybe the thousandth time — how similar little kids are to dogs.  And I’m not the only one who’s made this observation.  My middle son Greg, who has three little boys (ages 4, 2, and one month) and…

When Ricky the Beagle used to write this column, he had a good friend named Frankie — a Dachshund.  (He even wrote a MY PALS post about him — “Frankie & Roxy.”)  Frankie’s still around, and I’ve met him once or twice, but now I’ve got my own Dachshund pal, whose name just happens to be . . .  H…

The week before Memorial Day, Beagle Man brought me in for a bath and a trim. It was super hot that week, and I heard him say to the groomer, “maybe a little shorter than usual, so he’s comfortable in the warmer weather.”  As if I’m a toddler getting ready for summer.  (Greg and Kelly used to give…

We can hear him going at it, even though we’re in the kitchen.  Scratch-scratch-scratch-scratch!  That’s Kemba, scuffing at the large, flat cushion on the living room couch, as if he were in the dog park, pawing dirt or grass.  Next, he’ll frantically circle that same cushion (you’ve seen dogs cha…

In my next life, I want to be a dog living near the beach in Santa Monica.  Quite the sweet deal they have going there. Their ubiquity, their visibility (and the assumption that they belong!) at restaurants and bars, their generally cushy lifestyle, and the sheer number of them, first made an impr…

Kemba’s making me throw this stuffed Hello Kitty.  He won’t chase a ball — ONLY hello Kitty . . . Thus begins a text from Elise, my dog sitter — and it doesn’t surprise me.  My boy can be pretty particular about what he chooses to fetch. It’s hard to throw a stuffed animal!  Elise continued.  (You…

It all started in November, when Beagle Man got his new Cherokee.  At the same time, he bought the “unlimited” pass at Fred’s.  Now we go there at least once a week — sometimes more.  And it’s terrifying!  I can’t tell you exactly why we go to this house of horrors, but I can tell you exactly what…