We’ve finally redecorated and re-organized our small home office, and it’s taken on a bit of a Beagle theme. The whole point of the office was to create a peaceful, distraction-free working environment and yet somehow it’s ended up with two doggy beds and a treat jar in it.

The pups have always shown a strong interest in this particular room; I always figured this was because it was untidy with a grotty old carpet and lots of interesting rummaging opportunities, but now it’s clean and tidy they’re even more keen to hang out in there. Susan thinks it’s all down to the room’s small size and natural warmth (it has a full size radiator heating a small space, and faces the sun for a good chunk of the day – on those rare days when the sun puts in an appearance, that is). Regardless, my quiet workspace has now become known as “Beagle HQ”.

Er dad, this room is meant to be quiet! Hurry up and take your photos so I can back to clearing my napping backlog.

We’ve made some strict rules about no play-fighting or woofing contests in Beagle HQ, but I still have to deal with urgent blankie-covering requests from her highness The Beanster.

Fix my blankie. Fix My Blankie! FIX MY BLANKIE!

Those silent but intent stares are impossible to ignore. In their own way they’re actually more distracting than a paw on the arm, a pathetic whimper or Beanie’s specialty: the “fart gone wrong” noise. Interestingly we’ve caught Beanie staring at my chair for blankie service even when I’m not in it, which hints at the difference between doggy thinking and human thinking: she’s not knowingly requesting something from a human agent, so much as repeating a behavior that has apparently delivered the desired result in the past. Come to think of it I guess that’s not so different from humans after all; the same pattern-matching probably lies behind a lot of human rituals and superstitious beliefs. For example we use to perform sacrifices and pray to the gods to make crops grow, to see irrational portents in nature, and to vote in the expectation that politicians would carry out our wishes.

That’s one good thing about Biggles: he doesn’t have any expectations about the world and he’s not the least bit superstitious. He just keeps watch for opportunities, and happily takes advantage of them when they appear. For example, if I leave my desk without pushing my chair under it securely, there’ll be a Biggly boy on it when I return, my cup will be suspiciously clean like it’s just come out of the dishwasher, and there’ll be some unwanted modifications to whatever photos or documents I was working on.

Maybe those document modifications are his way of telling me that he’s under-represented in Beagle HQ. Beanie is the subject of the biggest photo on the walls, and she’s even taken over the mouse matt. The next time there’s a decent offer at a printshop I’ll have to square things up, but for now I’ll just have to save my work frequently and get used to shifting a big furry bottom off my seat before I can sit down.