Monkey didn’t receive a knighthood in the New Year Honours list, but his behavior has been, and continues to be, decidedly chivalrous – to the maximum extent possible for a Beagle boy.

He still puts his own thirst on hold if he senses that Daisy wants a drink, still let’s Daisy into the house first whenever he’s opened the door kitchen door after a garden session, and always seeks to protect her in moments of peril.  For example, a day before we took the Christmas decorations down I decided to give Daisy’s ears a servicing, something that has traditionally been regarded as life-threatening by our Beagles. As it happens Daisy doesn’t actually mind it too much, but still Sir Monkey made it clear that he had her back. Admittedly her had her back from quite a distance – from the little corner behind the Christmas tree in fact – but still he kept a keen eye on the proceedings and was surely ready to come to her aid if needed (especially once the bottle of ear stuff had been put away).

It’s been a particularly cuddly Christmas and New Year for the pups. We’ve had some nice dry frosty mornings, but we’ve also had grey and rainy days – days when really the only thing to do is snuggle. They’ve snuggled with Susan, they’ve snuggled with me, but mostly they’ve snuggled with each other. Each morning has started with a game of competitive tummies, where they both roll onto their backs and try to out-do each other by adopting ever more irresistible tummy tickle poses. If I seem to be giving Daisy’s tummy just a little too much attention Monkey whacks me on the head with a paw, a very unsubtle way of saying “Oi! Over here Dad!”. One one occasion I tried the Rick Wakeman technique, crossing my arms and trying to do both tummies at the time, but I just didn’t have sufficient coordination and ended up with two unsatisfied customers – a problem only rectified by more individual tickle time.

This morning as I had my coffee and morning web surf, Monkey came up onto the sofa next to me and rolled onto his back again, leaving an outstretched front paw in easy reach. I gently took hold of it and he didn’t flinch or pull away at all; I must have had his paw in my hand for a solid ten minutes before he eventually shifted position. This was a first for Monkey; up to this point he’d followed the example set by Beanie, Biggles and Poppy: you can touch me anywhere (and please do) but if you try to take hold of my paw I’m pulling it away! Hopefully it’s a sign that he’s living in the moment more, and becoming even more confident and relaxed. Paw-holds aside, Monkey’s still not quite the relentlessly optimistic boy that Biggles was, but he’s getting there.

Not be outdone, Daisy has added to her growing list of mid-walk rituals. The pee-pee biccie habit is still ongoing, as is the “I’ve jumped onto a wall, walked to the end of it and now I’m ready for my pick-up and cuddle” routine, and now they’ve been joined by “commando-crawl-for-a-kiss”. This is where she makes very deliberate eye contact with me, then inches her way up my right leg using her front paws and stays there until I bend down and give her a kiss or two. Usually two. And maybe a brief tummy rub as well. And all without any food involvement. This makes Daisy our most overtly affectionate girl Beagle, even above little Poppy, and Poppy set the bar pretty high. Beanie still holds top place for welcome wags though, and I still miss them.

Finally here’s a little serving of end-of-year and new year shots:

Frosty mornings make for great sniffage!

But wait! Daisy’s nose has detected a tree root growing hidden under the soil!

Don’t worry Dad, I’ll soon have this fixed.

Yeah that’s it gone now! Didn’t taste very nice either!

Action!

A brief moment for peaceful appreciation of nature’s beauty..

Then back to it!!

Shameless posing on the seat by Beanie’s tree!

Stimulating walks!

One last evening with the festive lights before they’re put away until next time

Oh yeah, remember how I said in the last post that none of the new toys had died yet?

Well, erm…

Farewell Mr. unidentified squeaky animal thing with rope for legs. By sacrificing yourself, you saved the other members of your group. At least for a while…

A slightly late Happy New Year to everyone who reads this!

This Christmas has been remarkable for two things:

1) No-one attempted to pull the Christmas tree down, or even pull a bauble or strand of tinsel off it.
This is especially remarkable given that Monkey really enjoys practicing his version of the  tablecloth trick; at least once a week he grabs hold of a blankie on the sofa and pulls for all he’s worth in an attempt to dump Daisy, and sometimes me or Susan, onto the floor.

2) All the new toys given as presents survived!

Like I said, nobody has attempted to pull the tree over, though one or both of the pups may have had moments when they thought about it :)

Right Daisy, I reckon all the good stuff is in this bag, so let’s work as a team to get it all out of there! Just let Monkey do all the thinking, ‘cos I’m a Christmas veteran.

Here’s the plan: I’ll stand on it while you try and extract the presents from the end of the bag that isn’t open.

OK, here’s the other plan: we both stick our heads in the open end and point our bums at the camera.

Yep it’s working!

Still no sign of anything we can play with yet though, so let’s go in again!

Nope, still nothing that looks like a Beagle-appropriate Christmas present…

Hurrah! A cardboard box! It’s just what I always wanted!

Oh yeah, it’s gonna be a good Christmas after all!

Waddya mean I’m missing the point, Dad?

Don’t bother with that Daisy, I dunno why the humies put that in the bag but it’s not for us!

Stick with me and you can have some of my cardboard!

Ughh, yet more of those useless bag fillers

Nothing more left in the bag now!

Still this cardboard is really good stuff!

Hang on a second though Monkey!

I’ve got an idea what all this other stuff is for..

Blimey, it’s almost as much fun as the cardboard!

This one squeaks!

And there’s another one!

Out of my way everybody, I’m on urgent puppy business with this thing..

OK Daisy, there’s no way this can be better than the cardboard, but let me try it for a minute..

Whoa!

Wheeeeeeee!

I think you might be onto something Daisy! Let’s check ’em all out!

And then there was much crinkling and squeaking…

and chewing of nice things before finally.. 

..a journey to the Land of Nod

Although it did take one of us a bit longer than the other to get there.

My best memory from this Christmas? Sitting on the floor by the sofa (the pups were hogging it) with Daisy snoring loudly in my right ear, and Monkey occasionally kicking me in the head during a dream about chasing. It doesn’t get better than that.

A little while ago – perhaps I should say “A wee while ago” due to the nature of this post and the fact that we’re in Scotland – I reported that Daisy had started peeing the bed in her crate on a regular basis. I tried a calming pheromone and carried out an uber-thorough wash of her bedding in the hopes of eliminating all traces of pee scent; this reduced the frequency of the soiling but didn’t stop it entirely. Clearly further action was required!

The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like it was probably a training issue; there was some kind of faulting thinking going on in that warm, soft and sweet smelling bonce of hers. I reinstated one of the most basic toilet-training steps: every time she urinated outside I praised her, rewarded her and made sure to bind the whole event consistently to the trigger phrase I use when she goes out for her final toilet visit at night.

Unfortunately when we got Daisy I had a moment of silliness and short-term thinking which led me to depart from the sensible “clean girl!” phrase I’d used for Beanie and Poppy. Daisy just seemed so tiny and cute that I felt strangely compelled to say “Pee-pee and poo-poo!”. Worse still, I didn’t just say it plainly, but used a mock-French accent. That was fine in those early days when Daisy couldn’t go for walkies in public; no-one could hear me so it didn’t matter that it sounded silly. Now of course Daisy isn’t a pup, she’s heading towards 2 yrs old and when she squats for a number one we’re much more likely to be on a popular park trail than in the privacy of our garden. Still, that’s the phrase she knows so I’ve been saying it, albeit with less of a Peter Sellers / Inspector Clouseau accent. Yes, I do feel silly, but also yes it has worked brilliantly, eradicating the problem after just a couple of days.

It has of course created another small issue, in that Daisy now does extra pees on walks just to get her treat. There are several changes in behavior that have led me to this conclusion; firstly and most obviously she pees more during the walk, but more importantly after the first one she looks me right in the eye as she squats, then jogs over and openly mugs me for her reward. And of course his Monkeyship doesn’t want to be left out, so I have to give him a treat as well. Anyway, let all this be a lesson to anyone getting a Beagle pup: choose your toilet trigger words carefully!

Finally as we’re close to Christmas I figure it’s time to post a few festive shots…

Errr Monkey.. is your hoof better than mine?

Yeah Daisy it is, and you’re not having it ’till I’ve finished!