What the Dog Smelled

Outside Hockey Rink, Wellesley, MA

I've always been fascinated with smell.  I'm not alone.  Look at the millions of people who wear perfume and cologne.  Smells touch more than our noses, they put imprints on our memory.  If a woman walks by wearing Tea Rose, it reminds me of my mother.  If someone is wearing Polo for Men, Mike D instantly flashes into my mind.  You could smell Mike down the hall in high school.  He's since toned it down.  When I walk into the Boston Garden for Bruins games, I'm overwhelmed by the smell of Dunkin Donuts Coffee brewing inside of North Station.  

The picture above sparks so many memories.  The dog is on a stoop outside of the Babson Skating Center in Wellesley, MA.  Hockey practice had just finished and several players were hanging out on the stoop with their oversized bags slung over their shoulders.  The dog was in smell heaven even though the players stunk to high heaven.  I know this because I play the game and cover the Boston Bruins for a living.  Most locker rooms smell like sweaty athletes, whatever that means.  But there's no smell like a hockey locker room--and nothing smells worse than the inside of hockey gloves.  Hours after you play, shower and scrub, hockey is still on your hands.  And as we know dogs will bury their noses in just about anything.

    

Were it not for noses, Follow the Dog Home would not have been the book that it eventually became.  Beverly's nose (seen above) led us back to the place where our journey with family dogs started 70 years earlier.  Dee Dee's nose led her to a skunk spraying which fouled the noses of family members, readers and especially Dee Dee (seen below watching over family).  The point is where there are smells, there are tells; stories to be told--whether it's a book, or another dog on a stoop somewhere else.

Kevin (left) with Zach Hill

I've said it before.  When you're an author, you should always have a copy of your book with you.  You might just bump into someone for whom it makes a most appropriate gift.  Yesterday was another one of those times.

The Philadelphia Flyers were coming to town to play the Boston Bruins.  Having grown up in Philadelphia and covering news and sports there, I know quite a few people in the Flyers front office and on the broadcast team.

Zach Hill is the Flyers media guy and he's "good people."  We always catch up whenever he comes to town.  He made it a point to let me know he'd been following the publicity of Follow the Dog Home and was very encouraging.  He wanted to know more.  So I told him the story about Beverly the German Shepherd leading us back to my father's long lost childhood home site unseen.

Bob Walsh, wearing paper boy hat, returns to his childhood home where his journey with dogs started 70 years ago.  Wellesley, MA

He loved it, and having a dog himself, he said he would buy a book.  That won't be necessary.
I gave him the signed one that I had brought with me to the Garden.

After the game, which the Bruins won 3-2 in a shootout, we took a picture in the Flyers locker room.  Zach said he'd read the book on the flight back to Philly.  I'm sure losing himself in the pages took his mind off a tough loss.  And the next time I see him, we'll have more stuff to talk about.

Chance Meeting with President Obama's Dog

Bruins present Mr. Obama with Bruins Jersey

I went to The White House the other day as President Obama honored the Boston Bruins for winning the Stanley Cup.  Aside from goalie Tim Thomas snubbing the team invitation for personal and political reasons, it was a wonderful day.  The President called Brad Marchand "a little ball of hate", told the story of Claude Julien's daughter eating Cheerios out of the Stanley Cup, he even worked the word "wicked" into the conversation--which always goes over well with New Englanders.

Outside front door of White House

NBC News place on "Pebble Beach"

Plenty of people knew I was going to Washington, and they asked me to say hello to Mr. Obama.
The reality is, you really don't get all that close to the President, and he's in and out in about 8-10 minutes.

A couple of people even asked me to say hello to the First Dog, like he too is readily available in the very structured visitor experience.  But as luck would have it, Bo came trotting by the room in the basement where I was interviewing Bruins and team brass.  "Does he just have the run of the place?" I asked a young staffer with Boston roots. "Yep," Brandon said.

Bo, the First Dog, White House Photo

So I saw the man, and his best friend.  It was all very cool.  Bo was bigger than I thought.  Just thought you'd like to know.