Every so often Beanie’s training club holds mini agility sessions, and as it turned out Beanie’s debut in the Intermediate class landed on just such a night. The usual equipment was there - hurdles (nice and low, safe for pups), rings to jump through, some widely spaced poles for weaving and a tunnel.

The first time round the circuit was pretty uneventful. Beanie did well enough, though she had to be kept on lead because the dogs in this class were all new and exciting to her.  As Susan and Beanie returned to their seats, another newcomer to the class - a really well built Boxer called Cooper - had his turn. He did well until he reached the tunnel, which he just wasn’t keen on at all. Attempts to coax him through verbally fell flat, so extra snacks were deployed along the length of the tunnel to tempt him in while each of the other dogs had their turn at the rest of the course. Eventually, it came round to Beanie again, only this time she had to try it off lead. So, Beanie was put in a sit and the lead was unhooked from her collar.

Now in retrospect it seems pretty obvious what was about to happen, but still… the sheer speed of it! I think “Shock and Awe” is the term the US military like to use. Anyway while Beanie sat before the first obstacle, looking a little distracted, Susan took position at the other end of the run, ready to call her. As soon as Susan made the call, Beanie darted straight across the course and into the tunnel. A fraction of  a second later she emerged from the other side, having hoovered up every single one of Cooper’s treats in one smooth, continuous sweep. Her little face was a picture of joy! She couldn’t have been happier if she’d been the first caveman to hold a barbecue. That tunnel was a blummin’ good thing, that’s for sure.

Well, the dog rota continued, and all the while Cooper remained wary of the tunnel. Treats were again laid out to tempt him, and again when Beanie’s turn came there was a lightning raid on the tunnel. It must have been like magic to our little Beagle, a blue canvas-covered Tunnel of Plenty that would never disappoint.

A few minutes passed and again it was Beanie’s turn. First port of call was the tunnel, naturally, but this time she took didn’t come straight out. The tunnel started shaking a bit, so there was clearly something going on in there. I watched expectantly, but to my surprise it was a human that emerged first.  Cooper’s owner had apparently crawled in there in a further attempt to assuage her dog’s fears. She looked kind of harassed, and was holding a treat in her hands. Not for long though. Beanie came charging out of the tunnel and snatched the treat, and possibly a finger or two from her hand. Our pup almost had a relieved look on her face, as though she was thinking “oh thanks - I thought I’d missed that one”.

That was kind of the end of the agility, and poor Cooper still hadn’t conquered his inner demons.

After ten days’ convalescense to recover from her spaying op, Beanie was finally allowed to return to the park and have a proper off-lead run. I think we were looking forward to it even more than Beanie. We’ve missed the walks, but even more than that we’ve missed the blissfully quiet afternoons that follow an energetic play session with other pups.

It hasn’t been at all easy to keep Beanie from popping her stitches. A few days after the op she felt fine, didn’t seem to need her pain meds, and would have been bounding round the garden like always if we hadn’t been there to stop her. But somehow we managed it, and as I write Beanie’s sleeping peacefully after a good old fashioned romp with her park buddies.

The other dogs were keen on splashing about in a stream - something  that normally doesn’t appeal to Beanie. She’s much more keen on covering herself in mud and disgusting pongs than washing it all off in an impromptu bath. Still,  she’d gone so long without a play session that she jumped in and joined in the fun.

She doesn’t know it yet, but she’ll be getting swimming lessons in a couple of weeks - our training club is holding a “pool party” at the Pets A & E in Glasgow. I guess they have a pool for therapy purposes - the ideal place for dogs to learn to swim in safety. Given that the club has a couple of crazy labradoodles in its ranks, I think I’ll be wearing waterproofs for that one!

Last Friday we took Beanie to the vet to be spayed or “dressed” as it’s often called. I’d been counting down the days to the op, convinced that she’d go into season just before it, forcing us to cancel, reschedule and endure all the hassles that come with a having a bitch on heat. Every attempted humping put me on red alert, but when the day of the op finally arrived I was nervous rather than relieved.

The operation is of course very common, and generally doesn’t require an overnight stay, but still it’s a pretty major undertaking. If you’d like to know the gory details you can click here, but I wouldn’t advise it if you’re squeamish or about to take your own dog to be spayed. I deliberately avoided any doggy Googling in the lead up to the op - trust me, ignorance is the best approach if you’re besotted with your pup!

The plan was that we’d drop Beanie off at the vets first thing in the morning, and collect her in the afternoon. Being pretty anal types we arrived early - before the practice had opened its doors - so we got to sit in the car park drumming our fingers for a few minutes. Once inside, we went through the pre-op checklist:

• No food after nine PM the previous night? (Er, does nibbling at a bit of poo I failed to scoop from the garden count as feeding? No? OK, “Check”)
• Been to the loo immediately prior to coming here? (Yep. Oh, you mean Beanie? Yep, her too. “Check”)

Then I signed the consent form, and we handed little Beanie over to the friendly lady vet. I was a little concerned that my nerves might have rubbed off on our pup, but no, she merrily trotted off with the vet without a single backward glance. Ungrateful, disloyal little git! We’re standing there fighting the fear that we’ll never see our treasure again and she couldn’t care less!

I filled the remainder of the morning with a visit to the gym. It was more about keeping my mind clear of worry than improving fitness, but it worked because by the time I’d got back, cleaned up and had lunch it was time to collect Beanie.

Back at the vets, we were told that Beanie had behaved herself very well - she hadn’t squirmed once - and that the op had gone very smoothly. The convalescence period would be ten days, during which only the gentlest exercise would be permitted. Also to prevent Beanie from interfering with her stitches, she’d have to wear the classic “lampshade” collar when unsupervised.

The first day there was no problem holding to the exercise restrictions. Beanie was feeling rather delicate after her operation, and was happy to be carried and pampered. The next day, she became a little bolder, especially after a little dose of her pain medication. Today though, she’s trouble! As far as she’s concerned, she’s fully recovered and has already launched herself onto the kitchen table. We’re trying to redirect her energy into chewing and to that end I spent a ridiculous amount at the pet shop on assorted hide chews, pigs ears and bones. So far, the only thing that’s holding her attention for a decent length of time is the “Piggy Rope“. I’d had high hopes for pigs ears - they’re certainly expensive enough - but Beanie can down one in less than five minutes. Plus, there’s something disconcerting about seeing an otherwise cute little pup devouring a real pig’s ear…

And you probably won’t be surprised to hear that the “lampshade” isn’t too popular with our houndlet either. We quickly learned that her collar needs to be extra tight to stop her pulling the whole thing off her head and chewing it to bits. Maybe the vet should have given us two collars - one to wear and one to chew.

Now that she’s crossed the five month boundary, we can apparently expect Beanie to start behaving a little like an adolescent child: rebelling against authority, copying anti-social behavior from other dogs to improve her street cred and so on.

I thought we might be seeing the first sign of this last week when I caught her hawking and spitting on the carpet. That’s just great I thought - we’ve now got a Beagle who likes to gob in the house! I had dark visions of what the future might hold. Rebellious Beanie hanging out with the wrong crowd (probably border terriers), drinking from discarded beer cans and bottles of Buckfast, mugging old dogs and stealing their treats etc. Come to think of it, she’s already had a go at shoplifting! She snatched a hide shoe on our last visit to the pet shop and would happily have walked out the door without me paying.

Fortunately, Susan had a different interpretation of Beanie’s unlicensed loogies and made an appointment with the vet for what appeared to be the doggy equivalent of a cold.

Beanie enjoys visits to the vet. Everyone makes a fuss of her and more often than not the nice secretary gives her a couple of treats. This time was very different however. The second we announced ourselves at the desk, the secretary said “oh that’s the dog with the cough” and asked us to wait outside in the car park and until her slot came up. No cuddles, no strokes and more importantly no treats! Instead Beanie was being shunned like a leper. She may as well have had a tag on her collar with the word “unclean” scrawled on it.

When the vet called us in she carried out a brief examination and questioned us about where we take Beanie for her walks. As soon as we mentioned one particular park, she nodded and said our Beanie had probably being caught up in a local epidemic of kennel cough, or to be more accurate infectious tracheobronchitis. The treatment would be a short course of antibiotics helped along by small doses of human chesty cough medicine (Benylin, Venos). Now that she knew that Beanie wasn’t carrying the plague, the vet was happy to give Beanie a cuddle and our little treasure showed her appreciation by covering almost the whole examination bench in short white Beagle hairs. [Quite a large proportion of Beanie’s coat is black, yet somehow she always sheds white hairs when she’s on a dark surface…]

We kept Beanie at home in isolation for a couple of days:

but then we decided to make the most of the recent good weather by going to the park, although obviously we took care to minimize her contact with other dogs.

I don’t know how she does it, but Beanie’s always had a remarkable ability to clean herself. Some days she’s come back from the park covered in mud yet still emerged from her bed a couple of hours later in a relatively presentable state. Lately however we’ve noticed that although she usually appears fairly clean, her subtle houndy scent has been replaced by a far less fragrant eau de toilet. After a particularly muddy park session at the weekend (the results of which can be seen below) I decided it was time to introduce Beanie to the pleasure of bathing.

I got some “no tears” puppy shampoo, grabbed my muddy pup and headed up to the bathroom. Rather than using the bath though, I opted for the shower cubicle. I figured this would reduce the chances of Beanie staging her own episode of “Home Makeover - Beagle Edition”. To avoid Beanie getting stressed by the slippery surface of the shower floor, I threw an old towel down and put her on that, then got in with her and closed the door.

It soon became apparent that Beanie isn’t too keen on power-showers. She kept drying to dodge the water so I ran the jet through my free hand before it reached her, and she calmed down and accepted her lot. The lathering phase was much more enjoyable though; she stood perfectly still while I massaged her with the gel. Even so, I tried to get things over with quickly and proceeded to the final rinse off in short order.

When she emerged from the cubicle she looked like a drowned rat. Drowned, but clean. After a towel dry I performed a sniff test and found my first Beagle wash to be generally successful. Her body and most of her head now smelled fresh, but I’d missed a smelly spot on her ear flaps. Still it was a big improvement, and I don’t think she’s been left with any fear of future bath times.