Britain’s been doing quite well in the Olympics but we’d be doing even better if the powers that be would only embrace some of the lesser known sports such as Boinging.

For the uninitiated, Boinging involves repeated pogo-stick style jumping in order to retrieve a target object from a high up place. It’s Biggles’ favorite sport, and he was training hard this morning when Susan left a plateful of cheese-covered toast crusts on the kitchen worktop.

It’s a surprisingly technical sport with marks being given for each of the four main stages of the boing.

Stage 1: Counter-surfing. Given only one brief peek, the contestant must correctly identify the high value item(s)

Stage 2: The launch. The contestant makes repeated standing jumps at the target directly from the floor and without the aid of any external apparatus

Stage 3: The snatch. On gaining sufficient height the contestant gathers all they can in a single mouth action

Stage 4: Speed eating. You only get points for what actually makes it into your stomach, so expert boingers like Biggles begin the consumption process even before their feet are back on the ground.

And there it is, the medal we could have if only the International Olympic Committee would add Boinging to their list of official sports

The ever-watchful Beanie

I’ve had my nose to the grindstone this last few weeks and that’s meant less play time for the Beaglets, but in turn it’s created more opportunities for Beagle naughtiness. You see, when a humie is concentrating on other things he becomes an easy mark for the alert Beagle, and trust me there is no more alert Beagle than Beanie. Even when she appears to be asleep, she’s usually just lying in wait for a chance to make a lightning raid on my desk, or slurp from an unattended cup, or pick the pockets of clothing left lying even for a second.

By the way dad, I’m probably due for a worming

In keeping with his nature, Biggles relies more on tactics rather than speed and daring. He knows the opening and closing sounds made by every door in the house and recognizes when one of them has been left open. If and when he decides to take advantage of the open door, he does so in an extremely laid back, matter of fact way so as not to arouse any suspicion. Sometimes he’s so laid back he’s like on of those poor bored souls employed at the local supermarket to collect empty baskets and trolleys. “Sigh.. someone’s left the kitchen door open again. I was just getting sleepy too. Still, I guess it’s my job..” When he finds something worth grabbing of course there’s no shortage of enthusiasm, and the ensuing crashing and banging noises bring us running (and Beanie too, because Biggles’ raiding missions always leave lots of interesting stuff on the floor).

In response we get a bit better about closing doors and not leaving things lying around, but our Beagles have an answer for that too: teamwork. Biggles drains the drinking bowl, then bangs on the kitchen door to go out for a pee. Forced to leave my work, I decide to use the interruption as an excuse for a coffee break. Now unsupervised, Beanie has full access to my desk until I return. Just as I’m sitting back down in front of the computer with my fresh coffee – ready to undo Beanie’s random “typing” and monitor repositioning – Biggles announces that he’s ready to come back in, so I’m back up out of my seat and on the way to the kitchen. The coffee of course is now unattended on my desk and completely at Beanie’s mercy. If I play it differently and make Biggles wait a little while I drink my coffee, he’ll just open the door from the garden himself – damaging the paintwork in the process – and gain unsupervised access to the kitchen. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. And when we’re finally all back in one room and I’m just getting back into work Beanie wants a drink, so I have to refill the bowl, and when I get back there’s a Bigglet sitting in my seat with a “What?” look on his face.

In an effort to break up this dual offensive I’ve been deliberately leaving the door to the bedroom open some days. This is a risky venture; if Susan’s left any socks lying around Biggles will hunt them down and there’ll be a chase and noisy Beagle discussion about who has ultimate sock rights. But.. if the bedroom is clear of socks, then it’s an irresistible lure for the Beanster. She just has to sneak in there and burrow her way into our bed.

Once there, covered by a thick sound-insulating duvet, she should be blissfully unaware of any raiding opportunities for the next few hours.

Or maybe that’s just what she wants me to think…

Well it’s monsoon season again – otherwise known as Summer in Scotland – but in between the showers there has been the odd dry, even sunny, period. We got very lucky a few nights ago when we drove out to Portencross, a tiny village on the Ayrshire coastal path.

This was our first visit but it’s already high on Beanie & Biggles’ list of favorite places. Biggles likes it because he managed fish out a couple of tiny crabs from rock pools as we walked to the old pier. Crunchy, salty and wriggly, just the way he likes ’em! As for Beanie, well she managed to get her chewing gear round a whole dead raven . It went in head-first and by the time I spotted it only the tail feathers and feet were still protruding from her mouth. It certainly wasn’t her cutest look! I’m just glad I didn’t have to the corpse from her teeth with my bare fingers – I managed to yank her away from it when she dropped it briefly to re-align her grip. After this disgusting start the evening could only improve, and so it did. Soon Beanie & Biggles were bounding through tall grass and scrambling over rocks as we followed the coastal trail.

When we returned to the pier they sat surprisingly quietly and patiently while I took photos of the sunset..

Don’t be deceived by the following outwardly romantic shot though. While some Beagles love nothing more than to cosy up together, Beanie prefers her own company and would much rather play-fight with Biggles than snuggle up to him. She is however willing to compromise her principles for a biscuit or two..