By necessity Beagle owners are a pretty relaxed bunch when it comes to acts of canine misbehavior. The naughty dial that goes from 1 to 10 on regular dogs is permanently stuck at 11 for most Beagles, and you either stop being a Beagle owner or make your peace with it. It’s no big deal when a fur monster poos in or on the humie bed, slurps from a coffee cup, or comes for a cuddle then burns the nasal passages with a particularly caustic fart. Nevertheless every owner has a red line or two that should not be crossed, and as I discovered recently, one of mine is vegetable-related.

Some of the veg in our garden has been reaching the harvesting stage recently. We’ve had a batch of our own potatoes, a taste of our own broccoli, and last week we were about to sample some of our own turnips when Biggles decided to get in on the act. He watched quietly as Susan retrieved a couple of small but perfectly formed turnips and let them rest on the grass while she check for more harvestable candidates. Ever the inquisitive little boy, he trotted over to examine the newly extracted veg and work out which of the the classic three doggy actions would be most appropriate: (i) eat them, (ii) roll on them or (iii) pee on them. Options #1 and #2 were quickly eliminated by the sniff test, leaving only option #3. The rear leg was cocked and for once Biggles’ aim was dead on. We could and probably should have just washed them, but instead they ended up on the compost heap and his lordship was sent back into the house in disgrace. Elvis had a thing about his blue suede shoes; I don’t have any suede shoes, blue or otherwise, but I don’t want anyone peeing on my turnips.

A few days later the turnip wetter’s nose was put out joint by a little Magpie in our front garden. He landed unusually close to us, then came closer still, eventually perching fearlessly on our knees and even our hands. This little fellow seemed so tame we assumed he must have been someone’s pet. He caught the attention of our neighbors and pretty soon a group of of were gathered round this brave little soul, at which points howls of protest were heard coming from our lounge window. Biggles had seen the spectacle, and he didn’t like it one bit; balancing on the sofa on his rear legs, little Mr Jealous continued to give everyone a piece of his mind.

“I think you’re about to be replaced Biggles” I shouted through the window, “..because this guy’s cute and he’s never peed on anyone’s turnips!”

Then in an act of Beagle solidarity the Magpie crapped on my jogging pants, and I figured that maybe there are worse things than wet turnips. Biggles was saved from relegation once again.

Realizing the bird wouldn’t last too long in the wild, we took it to our local wildlife rescue center. They figured that it was just an overly trusting fledgling rather than a mature bird tamed by regular human contact. It’ll spend some time being schooled in the ways of the world by other Magpies before being released into the wild again. Hopefully they’ll teach it to be wary of humans, and even more wary of jealous Beagles, because Beanie & Biggles are always open to sampling new food sources :)