The Amazing, Miraculous “New Puppy” Weight-Loss Diet!

This is incredible!  I’ve lost 4.6 pounds — I swear! — since bringing Kemba home with me last Saturday!  That’s even more impressive than the results of my inaugural LA/XC Diet™ back in 2011, when I dropped 5 pounds (because I often skipped meals to make my 500 miles a day), but that was over a four-week stretch.  I’m not exactly sure of the mechanics of this new diet, though no doubt keeping up with an 11-week-old furry little bundle of energy is worth a few calories, especially hustling him to the sliding porch door every half hour when it looks like he’s got peeing on his mind.

It’s been a long time since my 33- and 30- and 21-year-old sons were babies — but this past week has brought it all crashing back to me.  Being woken up when it’s still dark; leaving everything — bathrobe, glasses, paper towels, cell phone — wherever you last used it; accomplishing absolutely nothing, and still being totally wiped at the end of the day.  No complaints from me, though.  Robby, forever the staunchest Ricky loyalist, always declared that there’ll never be a dog cuter and sweeter than that little beagle.  That’s my story, too, and I’m sticking with it.  But I gotta say, Kemba the Duck Toller is quite the little lovey.  He does that lying stock-still, head-on-the-ground-between-his-paws thing — moving only his sweet dark eyes to gaze up at me.

When he doesn’t quite understand what I’m getting at, he gives me that melt-your-heart classic puppy head tilt.  When I step out of the shower, he licks my feet, ankles, and calves dry, which feels as yummy as a Swedish massage.  (Trust me on this.)  Honestly?  I’m incapable of walking past him without grabbing up the little fluffball for a hug and some face-licking.

He’s quite the charmer.  I thought Ricky was the ultimate chick-magnet, but O-M-G!  Our first full day home, I drove by the place where I have my hair and beard trimmed, and tooted my horn while Kemba leaned out the window.  All the girls left their half-cooked clients gaping in their chairs while they flocked

out for cuddles with the pup.  Next I took him to Triple-A of Westport to see Jan, who’s helped me map out all my cross-country road trips with Ricky — and who’ll be doing the same for Kemba and me for LA/XC-4 in April.  She was in the process of snapping some dude’s photo for a new driver’s license, but she left him in the middle of “Say cheese” when she saw Kemba waddling through the door.  Then, Burying Hill Beach for some exercise.  College girl with an 8-year-old Golden.  “Awww, he’s adorable!  What breed is he?”  I answer, “Have you ever heard of a Duck Toller?”  “No,” she says, “but I’m gonna get one!”

I’ll bet you’re wondering how I’m doing with Kemba’s training.  Anyone who’s witnessed Ricky climb up on a dining room chair, then onto the table to help himself to a barbecued steak, knows what a tough disciplinarian I am.  Well, this time around, I’m really working at it — but in truth, Steve the Breeder did such an amazing job with this little doggy that Kemba pretty much showed up trained:

•  He’s already happy as a lark in the car, calmly riding shotgun.  (I drove him the 262 miles from

Portland ME to Westport CT last week and he napped the whole way, not asking for a single pit stop)

•  He’s at ease and unflappable with strangers, though I’m pleased and proud to say I’m his unquestioned BFF.  Wherever and whenever I settle, he’s there within 6 inches of my feet 🙂

•  He sleeps through the night.  I lead him to his crate next to my side of the bed around 11PM, and he gladly marches in — no whining, no fussing — and doesn’t wake up till 6AM.  (Yes, a bit early for the Beagle Man — but then I see that little furball . . .)

•  When I actually try to get something done and stop playing with him, he squawks for a minute, then finds some chew toy to demolish

•  He pees on command outside — which makes it less likely that he’ll have an accident inside

•  Most amazingly, to me:  He already understands “No!”  This is a concept that a certain little beagle, who shall remain nameless, refused to get for 11 years.

I kinda feel like with a head start like this, all I can do — given my track record — is screw things up.  He’s been in town now for 168 hours.  Let’s see what Week #2 will bring . . .

LOOK FOR A NEW BEAGLE MAN POST EVERY THURSDAY.  OR PRETTY CLOSE TO THURSDAY.  COULD BE WEDNESDAY.  OR FRIDAY.  LET’S NOT GET TOO OBSESSIVE HERE . . .  OH, AND BTW, YOU CAN ALSO FOLLOW ME ON FACEBOOK AND TWITTER