We’ve always thought that Biggles was special. Every time he’s got his head stuck in a box, or fallen into a lake, or spent a full five minutes rearranging his bed in the car crate only to end up sitting uncomfortably on the plastic base, or squatted for a hefty dump while crossing a busy road on lead, “Oh yes”, we’ve said to ourselves, “he’s a special boy alright”. Biggles himself however was blissfully unaware of just how special he was until recently. I’m not sure exactly when it happened but I’m guessing he was just noisily snoring away on his back one afternoon with all his bits on display, when his one good brain cell finally put all the evidence together..

Blimey! I must be a really, really special boy!

His epiphany was no doubt inspired by all the first-class treatment he received while his foot was bandaged. He got to sleep in the big bed with the humies while Beanie had to slum it in her crate; when going for trips in the car he got to ride up front on someone’s lap, and he never got left alone for longer than a minute! All these things and more were solid proof that he was a much more important little Beagle boy than he’d ever dared dream.

Once the realization had dawned however, there were notable changes in his behavior. Suddenly he had the confidence to play with Beanie’s favorite toys – which previously he’d considered to be way off limits – and even trashed one of them. If she occupied his posh new day-bed, he’d bravely woof her out of it, and he even diversified his lucrative sock gathering business to include pants. On the day I took him for the final post-surgery checkup for his foot, the vet said “Fabulous! I don’t think you’ll have any more problems with that!”

I was about to reply “Actually, I’m pretty sure I will” but then I realized she was just talking about his foot rather than the whole Bigglet.

Now of course we’re gradually resuming our normal routine. It took a couple of false starts, but he’s sleeping in his crate at night again and has accepted that he’s back in the steerage compartments when we go on a car journey. Despite this his confidence is still running high; he hasn’t been this full of beans since before the days when his puppy license expired and Beanie told him off. I’m loving it, but I feel slightly saddened that we didn’t build him up enough after Beanie slapped him down; has he spent all those intervening years feeling undervalued? Regardless, things are definitely going well in the Biggleverse just now.

Finally, a few more shots from our recent “no more bandage” celebratory trip to Loch Venachar:

Ten days after his op Biggles finally ditched that huge wad of dressing and bandage on his foot, and best of all this didn’t happen because we left him unattended for too long – it was removed carefully by the vet. The initial joy of having his foot released from its crepe prison was quickly dampened by the return of the lampshade; he was desperate to give the wound a good licking and we were under strict instructions to prevent it. I’ve taken to referring to the lampshade as his “Bonker” because he still hasn’t learned to make allowances for the dramatic increase in the size of his head.

The Bonker is back on and my boy’s not happy about it..

..but that foot has to be protected from the licking machine that’s attached to it!

Biggles may not have been thrilled about the lampshade, but he was happy to be allowed out into the garden and on longer walks without first having a poo bag tied around his foot and his silver bootie fitted on top of that. I have to admit I was also getting really tired of all that rigmarole towards the end. At first I kind of enjoyed doing up his velcro “shoelaces” every time he went outside, but trying to get him to hold still enough to remove everything on re-entry was  a challenge to the say the least, and the whole thing got old pretty quickly.

I love the smell of Biggles’ feet and it seems he does too

Thanks to all the special treatment Biggles received during his convalescence I suspect he feels that his position in the pack has been upgraded; certainly he’s been confidently taking the lead on walks, claiming the best sofa positions and demanding play sessions. We were a bit worried that Beanie’s sniffer might get put of joint because of all this, but she’s taken it well – if anything it’s made her a bit more cuddly.

Beanie lures me into a play session with her new squeaky raccoon (which is now in two pieces, just like her old one)

A final check of his foot is due later this week, but it’s looking better each day and on the strength of that I’m gradually building The Bigglet back up to full length walks. This morning we all went for a gentle jog on the grass together at the beach park and he absolutely loved it, taking pole position almost the whole time and nearly yanking my arm out of its socket when we went up hilly bits. He’s obviously feeling like he’s back to 100% and by the time his final checkup his done, I think he really will be.  On top of this, we’ve had the results back from the lab and his growth was benign. For those who are interested, the lump was identified as a “fibroadnexal hamartoma” (related to hair follicles / glands) and removal really was the best course of action; it was growing rapidly and increasingly becoming inflamed by contact with grass and sand as he was running about.

Way back when Biggles wasn’t as biggly as he is now, he went to visit the vet and met a very nice lady who took him into the deeper recesses of the practice and promised him treats and cuddles. At some point during that adventure he got very sleepy, and when he woke up he had a big lampshade on his head and his pocket billiards set was missing two balls.

On Monday, he visited the vet again, and met a different but equally nice lady who promised him lots of cuddles and tummy tickles. She didn’t mention treats, but he’d already spotted boxes of Pedigree biccies in the waiting room so he figured they’d be part of the deal, or at least he’d be in with a chance of nabbing one of the boxes. The lady took him into the depths of the practice where normal visitors don’t get to go, and suddenly he felt very sleepy. When he woke up, there was a moderately sized lampshade on his head and his foot had huge bandage on it with a big letter “B” and a love heart.

It’s not like Biggles to fall for the same trick twice (really it isn’t – he’s much smarter than Beanie in this respect) but that’s exactly what happened. This time around he didn’t lose more items from his pocket billiards set, but he did have the nasty looking growth removed from his foot. The operation went to plan and the vet managed to sew up the void quite well – not an easy task given the lack of loose skin on the side of the foot – but we’re still looking at 10 days or so of severely restricted activity and bandage guarding.

Immediately after his op The Bigglet was quite easy to manage; he was still woozy from his meds, and his attempts at walking with that big lump of bandage on his foot were highly amusing (think of a toddler who didn’t quite make it to the toilet in time and you’ll get the idea).

Today however he’s wide awake, bored, and determined to get that blummin’ itchy bandage off his tootsie. The lampshade collar provided by the vet has already proved too shallow to prevent access to his foot, so I’ve swapped it for a much larger one we had left over from a previous misadventure, but even this can be defeated if he pushes it into the floor and contorts himself just right. To help beat the boredom and give him a break from the collar I dished out filled bones, but even here Biggles almost got the better of me; he feigned unbreakable interest in his bone while I was obviously watching him, then snook in a couple of exploratory licks and chomps at his foot. Fortunately I remembered how he’d done a similar thing as a pup (chewing table legs in the kitchen while apparently playing with a toy) and was still monitoring him out of the corner of my eye. Once I let him know the game was up, he became genuinely immersed in his bone.

At night he won’t fit in his crate with his collar on, and he can’t be trusted on his own, so we’ve made up one of our camping air beds in a spare room and he gets to sleep next to me on that. It’s cuddly and comfortable until I get side-swiped by the collar as he turns round, dragging me back into a fully awake state. Happily my life as a computer geek has given me the ability to function while sleep-deprived so I can handle that; I’m more bothered by the wait for the lab results on the growth – I’m really hoping it’ll turn out to be benign.