We’ve often mused over what career Biggles might choose if he were human. Rocket scientist / brain surgeon would be unlikely, but he’d be a natural as model. As a fireman, his remarkable peeing ability would let him put out fires even when no water supply was available. Sadly though, I think there’s only one role that really suits him: bouncer. He’s certainly been practicing his repulsing skills this last week or so. Our gas boiler’s been on the blink, and each Scottish Gas engineer brave enough to try to fix it has had to get past our little tricolored doorman.

Sorry mate can’t let you in, yer far too casual

The first three engineers got the standard “not with those shoes” patter that’s used for the postie and milkman, but the final guy got the harshest reception ever. Biggles watched him from the lounge window, becoming more and more insensed as he approached the house. When the man came in there was a woofing of biblical proportions, then Biggles charged towards him, completely forgetting about the closed baby gate barring exit from the lounge. There was a loud thunk! followed by the sound of ringing metal as Beagle bonce met tubular steel. The lower part of the gate was unseated from the door frame by the force of the impact, but Biggles himself was undazed and continued to woof, whine and bay at the poor engineer. Even Beanie joined in on the act. What had the guy done to deserve this? Well as far as I could tell his main crime was growing a beard. If there’s one thing that can really wind up Bouncer Biggles, it’s a beard. Or someone with a bicycle helmet, or an umbrella, or the wrong color of jacket, or a flapping carrier bag, or.. well let’s face it, the list of things that can set Biggles off is extensive, but this time it was the beard.

When the engineer disappeared into the utility room to do battle with our boiler, Biggles felt the need to burn off his frustration in a “harring” session with Beanie. What’s harring you may ask? Well it’s a noisy squabbling/wrestling match that begins with two open mouths pressed together and the sound of helium-breathing pirates.

Haaarrr!!

Quite what the gas engineer thought was happening when he heard all the crashes, bangs and wailing coming from the lounge is anybody’s guess, but against the odds he restored our boiler to health and emerged triumphant from the utility room only to receive a further irate woofing. After he’d gone Biggles had seen him off, the two woofers had a hectic play session in the garden to round the day off.

We’ve been very busy with work over the last week or so and this has reduced the quality of service given to our two VIBs (Very Important Beagles). For example while I’ve been putting in long hours at the computer, Biggles has been denied his human chin rest, and Beanie has sometimes missed her usual tug games. Lack of attention isn’t something a spoiled Beagle endures without protest, and we have certainly had plenty of those over the last few days.

We are NOT amused.

Biggles plans his protest activities for the day

I’ve suffered the loss of a filter hood for my camera; Beanie was apparently dissatisfied with the chew I’d given her and found a new one. One afternoon Biggles decided to use my keyboard as a foot and bum massager. He broke the two support flaps that hold the keyboard at a nice angle, and a couple of the keys now smell a bit funky. Talking of smells, we’ve had no less than three protest vomits in the hall, two of them the dreaded “shit-vom” (regurgitated, partially digested poo). What’s more the poo in question came from other dogs, not our two. If you’re wondering how I know that, it’s not because I did some kind of CSI-style poo DNA analysis, it’s just that the two of them have been devouring every pile of poo they can get their mouths around. At one point we were practicing recall in a dog enclosure with chicken as the reward. The recall itself worked great, but the chicken was snubbed in favor of poo. I mean, what can you do when Soylent Brown trumps chicken?

By the time the weekend came round I couldn’t help feeling a bit guilty about the lack of attention, and in a moment of weakness I visited the pet aisle in our local supermarket and got a fresh nylabone chew. It went down well for a couple of minutes, but then his Biggleship discovered that the packaging was way more fun.

What he should have been chewing

What he was actually chewing

..And we’re done

Sunday was a much better day for the Beaglets. The morning was spent in a particularly sniffy country park, and we deliberately went by some fields where sheep were grazing to work on reducing wool-induced woofs.

More signs of spring..

This time the chicken gets thoroughly polished off

Later that day I took them out again for an hour’s run at the beach park, and it was during this run that we discovered The Best Stick Ever. You know how most sticks are like chocolate biscuits – two bites and they’re gone? Well this was the “Twix” of sticks. It was really substantial, in fact it was more like a section of trunk from a young tree than a stick. It could have provided days of chewing entertainment for a normal dog, and maybe a full twenty minutes for a Beagle. Biggles was the first to pick it up and though it was heavy he carried it around proudly for nearly 2km, all the while being harassed by his jealous sister. Eventually his jaws tired and he dropped it, giving Beanie her chance. She grabbed it and pranced around in a high legged trot like a dressage pony, but soon she too was feeling the weight of it. She put it down briefly to get a different hold but fumbled the re-acquisition. I kept jogging and in a couple of steps the stick was out of her reach, and all Beanie could do was look back at it longingly. She didn’t miss it for long though; within a few seconds she was all “what stick?” bounding along happily by my side. Life would be a lot easier if we could all have the same easy-come-easy-go attitude as doggies!

Now that’s what I’m talking about!