Things are happening in the Monkeyverse. The Beaglemobile has shrunk and changed color, and the two individual crates that used to house Monkey and Daisy while on the road have morphed into one big crate that they travel in together.

What’s more, this crate now sits at a height that allows someone who is nosy enough and tall enough to see right out of the windows. Daisy – being on the small side of “titch” – can’t see Jack or any members of his extended family; Monkey however can see everything, and as he’s safe in a crate with his little sister, he feels empowered to woof. Already he’s hurled abuse at other dogs, people with funny hats and workmen, and that’s just the start. Over the years all our Beagles have been the victims of unprovoked drive-by woofings, but now the shoe is on the other foot. Actually the shoe isn’t on a foot, or even a paw, it’s in Monkey’s mouth and it’s about to get a robust and noisy chewing, just like Daisy’s bum!

Do you ever get peed-off about all those products that never come close to delivering their promised service life? Daisy certainly does, but her frustration isn’t focused on LED lightbulbs, TVs or devices with non-replaceable batteries; for her, it’s about moths. She got what she thought was a really good one. It didn’t fly, but it kept flapping its wings and doing unpredictable dances on the floor, and Daisy loved it. Again and again she drew back and pounced on it and gently picked it up in her mouth. She threw it into the air and caught it, then rolled onto her back, delicately holding it between her front paws, gazing at it in innocent wonder.

In the above video imagine that the severed giraffe body part is actually a moth, and you’ll be getting close to what I saw :)

Then abruptly the blummin’ thing stopped working! Moths are supposed to last for days, sometimes weeks, but this one had packed in after a just a few minutes’ play. Worse still it had no support website, and Daisy being Daisy, even if it had come with a paper receipt she’d almost certainly have ripped it up and swallowed it. There was no way to get a refund or a replacement now, and she was not happy! She howled and woofed at it, but to no avail. I picked it up and flushed it down the loo, but in doing so I left the door open just long enough for her to dart in and nick a toilet roll, so at least the day didn’t end too badly.

Monkey on other hand had a very positive experience with a product I’d almost forgotten we had: single-use instant cold packs. We originally bought them as a possible aid for Poppy during seizures, but since we lost her they’d just been taking up space in a cupboard – until Monkey came in from the garden one evening obviously feeling the heat. It had been hot, sunny day, and for most of it Monkey and Daisy had just been snoozing in the shade. When the sun eased up a little, the Beagle Brain Trust went down into the garden and decided to make up for all that lost chase and wrestling  time.

Monkey of course is every bit as fit as Daisy, but he’s also twice her weight and prone to getting very, very excited by a chase, so when they came in he was panting heavily; even lying on the cool wood floor wasn’t helping him much. The cold packs popped into my head, so I dug one out and struggled to read the instructions without my glasses. It said something about folding the pack to burst the inner bag. I half expected to burst the whole damn thing and end up spraying myself, the furniture and the walls with nasty chemicals, but fortunately all that happened was that the pack started cooling in my hand. I held it in his lordship’s most accessible armpit, and he liked it. I did the other armpit, and he liked it even more, in fact he liked it so much that he now rolled onto his back, legs akimbo, inviting me to put the pack in his groin. I did so, and very quickly I got the impression that Monkey was liking it a bit too much. I want to stress that at no point did Mr Pinky crash the party, but there were signs that we’d left the PG rating behind and were heading into 18 territory.

As I keep telling people, Monkey has the most loving and gentle nature, but he is also a raving pervert. I withdrew the cold pack before my legs got humped and noted that Monkey had stopped panting, though it was unclear whether this was due to distraction or genuine cooling effects.

As we’re now into August, I have an excuse to do a photo dump for the latter half of July.

Our crab apple tree is losing leaves a little early again, which is of concern to Daisy!

On the other hand, those fallen leaves are great to roll on..

Biccie time!

On hot days we do a bit of this..


And a bit of this..


And then a bit of this…

The Monkey and Daisy double-decker: (1) above the table..


..and (2) below the table.

Not to rush you Monkey but.. exactly when will you be finished with that ball?

..And how come your bit of trampled foliage is better than mine?

Clearly the Silly Ideas Department has just sent a new memo!

Cute

Handsome

Cuddly

Just before Beanie & Biggles’ old wooden agility jumps rotted away completely, I made a new pair using fresh pressure-treated wood, and then I completely forgot I had them – until last week that is.

Monkey has only had a handful of jump training sessions, but he still remembered how it all works. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten just how high Monkey jumps – even when the bar is on the lowest peg – so I got a lot of shots of Monkey almost out of the frame.

I have a sneaking suspicion that he jumps so high because he deeply mistrusts the bar; it’s clearly a potential agent of Monkeycide. The same goes for the little streams that sometimes form on the beach as the tide is changing – they may only be a couple of inches wide, but he clears them by two feet, just to play it safe. It’s impressive for sure, but at the same time just a bit silly, but then so is Monkey.

Daisy seemed to be watching Monkey’s jumps carefully so I was hopeful for a first go triumph, but when it came to her turn she just limbo-danced under the bar. I realised I had to block this to make any progress, so I lowered the bar onto the feet of the jump and used her favorite fetch ball as a target just for good measure. This time she hopped over the bar as I wanted, grabbed her ball and brought it to me. Perfect! I popped the bar back up and gave her another go, and this time she executed a proper jump! I was very chuffed at her performance so I rewarded her well, and for the next few minutes she was going back and forth over the bar for the joy of it.

It seems Daisy’s a very quick study, albeit with a blindspot for the whole “this food is yours, but this is mine” principle. I mean even Beanie showed us some respect when we were trying to feed our faces, although there was that time with the cake and that amazing prehensile tongue of hers…