I’ve always taken pride in brushing the pups’ teeth regularly; in past years I’ve even been complimented by the vet for keeping up with their dental hygiene. Well, you know what they say about pride, although sadly the fall which followed my pride happened to Beanie rather than me. I can’t remember the exact circumstances of the fall (it could have been a slip as she dived off one of the office chairs, or a misstep as she sprinted up the stairs to the deck) but I do remember checking to see if she was alright. It appeared she was – she seemed to brush it off immediately – but in reality it must have knocked out two of her lower front teeth, and though this happened much earlier in the year, I only found out about the missing teeth last week. Worse still, I probably wouldn’t know about them even now if Susan hadn’t spotted the tooth-free gap while rescuing a stolen vegetable plant.

I’ve since discovered that in addition to the tooth loss, the rest of her front teeth aren’t looking as clean as they should. Admittedly there tends to be quite a lot of wriggling during the tooth-brushing process so much of it has to be done by feel rather than by sight, but it’s obvious I need to put more effort into cleaning and periodically eyeballing the front teeth as well as the canines and molars. To mark the start of my new, more conscientious doggy dental care routine I’ve switched to a better toothpaste, got a fresh brush and bought a couple of pots of Plaque-off.

While all of this will help both Beanie and Biggles hold on to their gnashers going forward, I get the feeling Beanie would have preferred something tastier and more immediately rewarding as compensation for her  mishap. She swallowed all her baby teeth as a little pup instead of leaving them under her pillow, so she’s certainly overdue for a visit from the tooth fairy.

Biggles’s life has had its ups and downs recently also. He’s always shown a liking for camping chairs, so recently Susan parked one right by my desk and lined it with our furriest tartan blankie. He needed no invitation to get onto it, and over the next few days it became his favorite hangout.

To be honest I loved having it there too. Biggles just looked so right in it, like it was his own tailor-made Beagle hammock. Unfortunately that chair also put its furry occupant in an ideal position for nicking things from my desk. For some days Biggles either didn’t realize it had this extra feature, or at least didn’t take advantage of it, but then one afternoon, when I was battling a really frustrating bug in my Android app, he went through one of his “I’ve got to get stuff!” phases. He became obsessed with some important papers on the corner of my desk, and made several attempts to nab them. Each time I told him firmly “No!” but when he’s in one his moods, the word “No” comes through as “keep trying different approaches”.

He never got the papers but every snatch attempt inflicted collateral damage, whether it was my phone crashing to the floor, or various usb devices getting ripped from their sockets, or just my concentration getting nuked yet again. Eventually I gave him an ultimatum: “Right! One more naughty nicking attempt and I’m going to confiscate your chair!”

Of course that one more attempt did happen, so I carried through on my threat, folding up his chair and carrying it to another room. Even as I was taking the chair away, an alarm bell sounded in my head. Had I remembered to push my own chair in under the desk before I picked up his Lordship’s luxury hammock? I got my answer even before I made it back to my desk, because Biggles passed me carrying my favorite hot chocolate mug in his mouth as he trotted purposefully to his place for checking out new acquisitions. Only recently I’d re-watched The Untouchables and one of Sean Connery’s best lines immediately popped into my head:

“You wanna get Capone? Here’s how you get him. He pulls a knife, you pull a gun. He sends one of yours to the hospital, you send one of his to the morgue. He takes your favorite camping chair, you take his favorite hot chocolate mug!”

Once he’d finished purging the chocolate dregs from my mug, Biggles went into a big sulk over the continued absence of his chair. I fixed my coding bug and lasted nearly 24 hours before I caved and restored his special seating arrangements. To date there haven’t been any more nicking attempts; I get to keep my papers and my mug on my desk, and he gets to keep his big furry bum on his tartan-lined hammock. I think we’ve reached an understanding.

Now if only I could flush the guilt I still feel over being unaware of Beanie’s tooth mishap…