Halloween has come round again, and our two little horrors have been very busy.
On the beach, they proved their hunting ability by catching a goat. Yes, a goat! The goat was long dead of course, in fact it was basically just an empty skeleton with a partial covering of skin and fur. And when I say they caught it, I really mean they stumbled across it despite me seeing it first and doing my best to give it a wide berth. I got Beanie away from it pretty quickly, but Biggles dug in his heels and threw himself on his back for a bit of intense Beagle break-dancing. Happily time at sea had severely weakened the corpse’s pong-potential, and any delicate fragrance of death that Biggles did manage to absorb was quickly washed off by a few sprints through the surf. Certainly by the time we got back to the car he only smelled of wet salty dog and seaweed, and only minimal cleanup of the car was needed when we got back home.
Not having to purge the car of essence de corpse was a welcome time-saver, but instead of cleaning and spraying, I’m going to be sewing. The reason for this? In a word, Beanie!
Specifically, Beanie has given me a bad case of Beagle Pocket Syndrome. You know you’ve got BPS when you confidently put your car keys in your pocket, only to have them fall down your leg and hit the ground a couple of steps later. In fact I’ve got BPS so bad that only two pairs of trousers actually have a complete set of un-holed pockets. I know the Beanster’s to blame because lately she’s been coming in to see me when I have a shower. At first I assumed this was a display of affection, her way of saying thank you for all those play sessions and runs on the beach. In reality she just wanted me safely locked away in the shower cubicle so that she could nibble through the pockets of my clothes undisturbed.
In a way it’s my own fault because I always like to have an emergency dog biccie in my pocket. Historically this habit has been a source of embarrassment at the gym – whenever I do any kind of inversion exercise a biccie and a poo bag tend to fall out of my pants. Now I don’t have that problem because nothing stays in my pockets long enough to make it out of the house.
By a spooky coincidence Susan has BPS too, but in her case the naughty nibbling has occurred mainly in her jackets. The solution is simple enough: repair the pockets, then either stop putting edibles in them or make sure that clothing with pockets is never left unattended and in reach of a wiggly Beagle. The thing is, the list of things that must be kept strictly out of Beagle reach just keeps growing and growing. Cups, socks, trousers, jackets, mail, shopping bags, toilet rolls, masking tape, sandpaper, CDs… Maybe I could swap Beanie & Biggles for a pair of Joe Dante’s Gremlins. They’d be so much less hassle. Avoid bright light and water and never feed after midnight? Easy!