There’s been a lot of nap time for the four us since our adventure in Kielder. With me and Susan I think the need for R&R was physical, with Beanie & Biggles it was more to do with the amount of stimulation they’d had.

On the night of our return from Kielder, Biggles decided he wanted to retire to bed early. His crate was closed so instead he pawed open our bedroom wardrobe and made himself comfy on our discarded winter duvet amongst the shoe boxes..

The first sign that our monkeys were fully recovered and ready for action came when Susan spotted something unusual out of our bedroom window:

That’s our miniature apple tree with a Bigglet on it. We only got it recently (the tree, not the Bigglet), and already little apples are appearing. According to the guys at the garden center, we’re supposed to pluck some of them off early while the tree is still young to help it grow stronger in subsequent years. We’ve been a bit lax in this respect, so “Biggles Titmarsh” decided to give us a hand..

Our instructions were to pluck the apples off rather than nibble them away, but I guess the end result is the same.

Who knew gardening could be this tasty!

As I watched little Mr Green-Paws I became concerned that he was getting a little too enthusiastic about his work.

I certainly didn’t remember the garden center boffins saying anything about pruning the tree’s branches, and so I brought this little gardening session to an end.

So the apple tree has joined the long list of items that require protection from our Beagles, and apparently our toilet rolls should be on the list too…

Beanie destroys another bog roll

..along with Biggles’ tail and Beanie’s ear flaps.

You’ve heard of the Mexican Standoff; this is the Beagle version

After a couple of hours of mayhem the Beagle batteries ran flat again and we got to enjoy a quiet coffee in the sun.

Or at least we did until the buns came out and the begging started..

Beanie’s distinctive begging works on just about everybody

Except us. Disappointment ain’t pretty!

Another raucous sing-along for Beanie & Biggles!

Way back when we were waiting to get Beanie but didn’t actually know which pup in the litter she’d be, we spotted some little stuffed toys going cheap in a shop. One of them looked like a Beagle (apart from the short tail) so we bought him, and his name was Toby.

Now of course we’ve got two real Beagles, but Toby still hangs out on Susan’s desk, or at least he did, until Beanie jumped up there and nabbed him. I was just getting out of the shower one morning when I heard some worrisome looting type noises, followed by cartoon-style scarpering into the garden. I ran to the window expecting to see Biggles with a sock, but instead there was Beanie sprinting round the garden at warp 10 with Toby hanging out of her mouth. She was glowing with joy, but Toby didn’t look nearly so happy! I knew he’d be OK while Beanie was still doing her victory laps but once she stopped, dismemberment and disemboweling would soon follow. I got to her just in time, and convinced to her to fetch him to me. You could say that his life was saved by the piece of dried fish I gave her in return.

Toby is safe – for the moment – but it’s only a matter of time before Beanie strikes again. Guess I’d better order some more dried fish…

The next morning I again heard looting and scarpering noises, and this time it really was Biggles with a sock. I went after him and tried to convince him to fetch the sock, but the little bugger had other ideas. He ran to the back of the shed, ready to use the same chase strategy he uses against Beanie. I knew that as soon as I committed to going up one side of the shed, he’d sprint off down the other side. Unfortunately for Biggles his plan hadn’t allowed for human communication and cooperative skills. I called in Susan to approach from the other side, and he ran from her straight into my clutches.

So, the humies won that one, but the next day The Bigglet got his revenge. I was taking the pups out for their morning walk just minutes after the refuse collection, and there was line of fragrant bin juice running along our street. Biggles sniffed it briefly, then threw himself down on the ground and rolled around like a pro. You wouldn’t think that a spot of eau de refuse could stink worse than fox poo, but believe me it can.

On the plus side, Biggles did manage to make me very proud of him at our latest agility session. He did one perfect run of twelve weave poles in the training barn; at home we’ve only ever practiced with eight poles, so this was no small achievement. I’ll have to get video of him the next time he does it, because it’s really cute.  While Beanie’s the consummate professional when she does her weaves, you can see the concentration on Biggles’ face; he’s almost got his tongue sticking out of one side of his mouth, desperately trying hang on to the rhythm of his front paws as he bounces between the poles.

A few more shots from this week’s antics:

The next time we stop over somewhere for a night a or two, our two merchants of chaos won’t be trashing any hotel rooms. They also won’t be waking other hotel guests at 3am to alert them that someone with a motorbike helmet has just walked within 50 yards of our window. How have we achieved these miracles? We’ve got a caravan, that’s how. Yep, the next time you’re stuck behind a big white fibreglass snail on a winding country road, it could be us.

Beanie & Biggles’ keen senses have been telling them that something was afoot for some time now.

For one thing, they’ve had a lot of enforced crate naps – often well before normal bed time, and without just cause. New fabric crates have also mysteriously appeared, and though the dynamic duo have been encouraged to give them a thorough nasal once-over, they haven’t replaced the crates in our house.

Then our pups’ little Citroen Beagle-mobile abruptly mutated into something bigger, cleaner and less smelly. It was a terrible shock to the system; Biggles had only just finished coating every surface of the old car with his discarded white fur, and now he has to start all over again.

Being thoroughly professional Beagles, our two have tried very hard not to let these strange occurrences get in the way of normal activities.

Today though, all hope of normality was blown away when a delivery man brought a large white thing and put it by the side of our house. Beanie and Biggles took up their sentry positions at the front window and managed to see off the delivery guy using a combination of Clint Eastwood stares and woofings, but seemingly nothing could frighten away the white thing. After what seemed like an age, they were finally allowed to investigate it…

So the caravan has now been thoroughly sniffed, the work surfaces have been scratched, the carpet’s been dug up, and we’ve had a play session – not bad work for 15 minutes, but at least now any damage done will be to our own stuff, not to someone else’s!