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!

A while ago Beanie and Biggles’ exploits caught the attention of a journalist writing for the RBS and Nat West magazine, Sense. She was particularly interested in their canicross adventures. She wrote a short article about Paul, Beanie and Biggles and the publishers sent along photographer Murdo Macleod to take photographs.

I was over the moon when this photo appeared with the article as a double paged spread in the current edition of Sense. As Paul is the photographer in our family it’s very rare to get a nice picture of him with Beanie and Biggles.

photo copyright Murdo Mcleod

Murdo also took some other lovely photos which he kindly sent to us.

photo copyright Murdo Mcleod

photo copyright Murdo Mcleod

If Scottish Water had Beagles working for them instead of humans, their recent overhaul of our local pipework would have taken hours instead of weeks. There’d have been no need for machinery, generators or traffic cones. The workers would have simply turned up in their tricolored hi-vis jackets, stuck their bums in the air and got their forelimbs straight to work. There might have been the occasional break to pick up fallen chips and food wrappers from the pavement, or woof at a passing postman, but generally progress would have been very rapid. It certainly was when Beanie followed the trail of some unknown nighttime invader to the rear fence of our garden, rolled up her sleeves and started her latest digging project. I caught her just as she was trying to squeeze her head and shoulders through the gap she’d created, and even though I toweled her off she still brought an impressive amount of mud into the house on her paws.

In the past I’d have responded to this apparent escape attempt by turning the rear fence into a DIY version of the Berlin Wall, but this time I just packed the mud and earth back into the hole and bided my time. Sure enough, two days on Beanie seems to have forgotten about her digging project. Presumably the critter that inspired it has now found a different garden to invade, but there’d have been no digging at all if Beanie & Biggles had caught the little bugger when it first trespassed. With that in mind we’ve been training up their hunting skills, and not knowing the species of critter we’re up against, we’ve tried to cover all the bases.

We started with squirrels.

Squirrels are supposed to be the supreme athletes of the rodent world, but Beanie found this one to be easy prey. It was slow moving, unable to climb, and contained two squeakers; one in the head, and one in the tail, though the tail one didn’t work terribly well, especially after the following incident:

We also tried raccoons. These aren’t common in Scotland but occasionally they have been known to escape from a shop in Irvine called “Homebase”. Homebase doesn’t allow Beagles on their premises. If they did, I’m 100% certain they wouldn’t have a raccoon problem.

Got it!

Killed it! What’s next?

We finished up with the toughest challenge of the day; the orange mini space-hopper. These are wily customers. They bounce in unexpected directions, easily escape from one’s mouth when wet, and keep on squeaking no matter how many times you bite ’em.

Though Beanie caught the space-hopper many times she never managed to kill it, and both she and Biggles had to retire from their training session knowing that there was still one species out there that could defeat them. Their failure clearly weighed heavily on their minds.

Well, it weighed heavily on Beanie’s mind anyway.