Another raucous sing-along for Beanie & Biggles!

Way back when we were waiting to get Beanie but didn’t actually know which pup in the litter she’d be, we spotted some little stuffed toys going cheap in a shop. One of them looked like a Beagle (apart from the short tail) so we bought him, and his name was Toby.

Now of course we’ve got two real Beagles, but Toby still hangs out on Susan’s desk, or at least he did, until Beanie jumped up there and nabbed him. I was just getting out of the shower one morning when I heard some worrisome looting type noises, followed by cartoon-style scarpering into the garden. I ran to the window expecting to see Biggles with a sock, but instead there was Beanie sprinting round the garden at warp 10 with Toby hanging out of her mouth. She was glowing with joy, but Toby didn’t look nearly so happy! I knew he’d be OK while Beanie was still doing her victory laps but once she stopped, dismemberment and disemboweling would soon follow. I got to her just in time, and convinced to her to fetch him to me. You could say that his life was saved by the piece of dried fish I gave her in return.

Toby is safe – for the moment – but it’s only a matter of time before Beanie strikes again. Guess I’d better order some more dried fish…

The next morning I again heard looting and scarpering noises, and this time it really was Biggles with a sock. I went after him and tried to convince him to fetch the sock, but the little bugger had other ideas. He ran to the back of the shed, ready to use the same chase strategy he uses against Beanie. I knew that as soon as I committed to going up one side of the shed, he’d sprint off down the other side. Unfortunately for Biggles his plan hadn’t allowed for human communication and cooperative skills. I called in Susan to approach from the other side, and he ran from her straight into my clutches.

So, the humies won that one, but the next day The Bigglet got his revenge. I was taking the pups out for their morning walk just minutes after the refuse collection, and there was line of fragrant bin juice running along our street. Biggles sniffed it briefly, then threw himself down on the ground and rolled around like a pro. You wouldn’t think that a spot of eau de refuse could stink worse than fox poo, but believe me it can.

On the plus side, Biggles did manage to make me very proud of him at our latest agility session. He did one perfect run of twelve weave poles in the training barn; at home we’ve only ever practiced with eight poles, so this was no small achievement. I’ll have to get video of him the next time he does it, because it’s really cute.  While Beanie’s the consummate professional when she does her weaves, you can see the concentration on Biggles’ face; he’s almost got his tongue sticking out of one side of his mouth, desperately trying hang on to the rhythm of his front paws as he bounces between the poles.

A few more shots from this week’s antics: