One day last week, without so much as a by-your-leave from the Beaglets, the beginnings of a new kennel appeared right in the middle of Biggles’ favorite patio pooping zone.

Though far from complete, early signs were that this was going to be a significant improvement over their previous kennel. For one thing, it was clearly going to be a lot more spacious than the old one.

Kennel v1.0. Compact and bijou to put it kindly.

Floor of kennel V2.0. Plenty of space to swing a cat, or at least a stuffing-free fox that stopped squeaking months ago.

Beanie tested the floor out and found that it was solid enough for fetch games played with a disgusting, soggy tennis ball that had been out in the garden for most of the winter.

Overall things were looking promising for this new kennel, and over the next two days considerable effort went into its completion. Obviously none of that effort was expended by Beanie & Biggles; they just lazed around in the living room, demanding tummy tickles and waiting for teatime.

Nevertheless the new kennel was erected and roofed just before the latest West of Scotland monsoon arrived, and the pups were finally invited in to check things out.

The finished thing looked a bit weird on the outside, but it’s the inside that counts. And what did they find on the inside?

An unmitigated disaster, that’s what! For one thing, it was only equipped with a single chair, and I do mean “chair” – not sofa! How can two Beagle bottoms be expected to fit in such a small space?

Clearly not up to the standard that Beanie and Biggles have come to expect, but as the inspection continued even more critical design flaws were uncovered.

The windows had been placed so high that no-one could see out of them, even with their feet on a stool. How on earth is a Beagle boy supposed to keep watch for postal deliveries, neighboring dogs going for their walks and the 1001 other situations deserving of a robust woofing?

Similarly look at the height of this table! It’s obviously been designed to taunt the height-challenged family members, allowing them to see but not reach the items residing upon it.

Is that a sawdust collector for a circular saw, or a black sock? Either way it should be in easy reach of the resident sock expert!

And what’s this? It looks a bit like one of those Nordic food puzzles for dogs that are supposed to test intelligence but can always be defeated by good old fashioned Beagle brute force, but.. where are the treats!!!

As the inspection continued, excitement changed to disappointment, disappointment turned to a sense of betrayal, and from that only one outcome was possible:

I think our new shed is going to need a treat jar. A really big treat jar. And ear defenders.