As I write this it’s around a fortnight since we lost Beanie & Biggles. It feels like all that happened either six months ago, or just yesterday, depending on what thoughts have entered our heads at any particular point in the day. We’ve got big canvases of our oldsters sitting over the youngster’s crates in our bedroom, and when I look at them, which I often do, I just smile at all the happy times they had and feel I’ve done grieving. Then just minutes later something can bring it all back without warning, and I realise I still haven’t fully got my head around the fact that they’ve gone. Most days I end up revisiting the decision to put Biggles to sleep, fearing that we went too early, or left it too late, but I always come to the same conclusion: we couldn’t have done things any other way. It’s much the same for Susan, and from all we’ve read, that’s just the way it works.

For all that, the truth is we got a very gentle introduction to dog mortality; we knew the clock was ticking down a long time before it stopped, and to some extent we’d already made a kind of peace with that. It must be really hard when the end comes as a complete surprise with no chance to prepare or say goodbye.

If the departure of Beanie & Biggles came as a shock to Poppy & Monkey, I’m happy to report that there are few signs of it. Monkey has become a bit more vocal, but that could be a reaction to the emotion that we struggled to contain, or some attempt to fill the power vacuum now that the senior pack members have stepped down, especially the grumpy little madam that said “Whaaarrrhhh!”. We’d seen advice that we should take extra care of the remaining pack members at this time, giving them reassurance and pleasant distractions to help them through anything they might be feeling. With this in mind we took them to Pets At Home to get some really engrossing chewables, and that’s where the second part of this post’s title comes in. During that shopping trip we saw indisputable proof that Monkey has learned to read.

As we walked past one of the cat-dedicated aisles, Monkey saw a yellow sign leaning against the shelves and studied it carefully. It had bold black lettering on it that said “WET FLOOR!”, and being the kind of Beagle who always wants to be helpful, he cocked his leg and did exactly what he was told, right where the sign was standing. Somewhat confusingly nobody said he was a good boy for that, but he got a big chunk of bovine trachea to chew on that evening so clearly he’d done well.

To finish, some recent photos of our pack of 4, pack of 3, and finally pack of 2.