The ever-watchful Beanie

I’ve had my nose to the grindstone this last few weeks and that’s meant less play time for the Beaglets, but in turn it’s created more opportunities for Beagle naughtiness. You see, when a humie is concentrating on other things he becomes an easy mark for the alert Beagle, and trust me there is no more alert Beagle than Beanie. Even when she appears to be asleep, she’s usually just lying in wait for a chance to make a lightning raid on my desk, or slurp from an unattended cup, or pick the pockets of clothing left lying even for a second.

By the way dad, I’m probably due for a worming

In keeping with his nature, Biggles relies more on tactics rather than speed and daring. He knows the opening and closing sounds made by every door in the house and recognizes when one of them has been left open. If and when he decides to take advantage of the open door, he does so in an extremely laid back, matter of fact way so as not to arouse any suspicion. Sometimes he’s so laid back he’s like on of those poor bored souls employed at the local supermarket to collect empty baskets and trolleys. “Sigh.. someone’s left the kitchen door open again. I was just getting sleepy too. Still, I guess it’s my job..” When he finds something worth grabbing of course there’s no shortage of enthusiasm, and the ensuing crashing and banging noises bring us running (and Beanie too, because Biggles’ raiding missions always leave lots of interesting stuff on the floor).

In response we get a bit better about closing doors and not leaving things lying around, but our Beagles have an answer for that too: teamwork. Biggles drains the drinking bowl, then bangs on the kitchen door to go out for a pee. Forced to leave my work, I decide to use the interruption as an excuse for a coffee break. Now unsupervised, Beanie has full access to my desk until I return. Just as I’m sitting back down in front of the computer with my fresh coffee – ready to undo Beanie’s random “typing” and monitor repositioning – Biggles announces that he’s ready to come back in, so I’m back up out of my seat and on the way to the kitchen. The coffee of course is now unattended on my desk and completely at Beanie’s mercy. If I play it differently and make Biggles wait a little while I drink my coffee, he’ll just open the door from the garden himself – damaging the paintwork in the process – and gain unsupervised access to the kitchen. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. And when we’re finally all back in one room and I’m just getting back into work Beanie wants a drink, so I have to refill the bowl, and when I get back there’s a Bigglet sitting in my seat with a “What?” look on his face.

In an effort to break up this dual offensive I’ve been deliberately leaving the door to the bedroom open some days. This is a risky venture; if Susan’s left any socks lying around Biggles will hunt them down and there’ll be a chase and noisy Beagle discussion about who has ultimate sock rights. But.. if the bedroom is clear of socks, then it’s an irresistible lure for the Beanster. She just has to sneak in there and burrow her way into our bed.

Once there, covered by a thick sound-insulating duvet, she should be blissfully unaware of any raiding opportunities for the next few hours.

Or maybe that’s just what she wants me to think…