Beanie is now a double-digit Beagle and while her advancing years haven’t exactly slowed her down, I have noticed some changes.

The most welcome development has been a growing appreciation of human affection. She has always been – on the surface – the most outgoing of our pups, greeting passers-by with full-body wags and a two-legged dance routine, but this was akin to celebrities smiling for cameras and signing autographs to keep fans happy. Away from the public gaze, Beanie has traditionally been a rather cuddle-averse and intensely private little Beaglet. More recently however she has become surprisingly accepting of strokes, kisses and snuggles. It started during trips in the Beaglemobile, where being moderately fondled on someone’s lap was a price worth paying to gain a better view of the outside world. This progressed to actively seeking cuddles during scary events like thunder, fireworks and beeping noises on TV shows, and in the last couple of months I’ve had some wonderfully soppy Beanie moments for no obvious reason at all.

There’s nothing soppy or affectionate about her style of play however; if anything, she’s become even more of a vandal. The above birthday hotdog lost its strip of green “lettuce” almost immediately and would have lost much more if she hadn’t switched her attention to the squeaky smiley face. She’s even tried to win Biggles over to her destructive ways, encouraging him to rip open a soft fabric bone and spit out the squeaker. At least he felt toy-wrecker’s remorse after his orgy of destruction; Beanie just goes looking for the next victim!

At the same time, she’s become much more tolerant of the attention of other dogs; even just a couple of years ago she would have cross words for any dogs that pestered her excessively on beach runs. Now she just ignores them – even the really pesky small ones – and she positively enjoys seeing the local farm dog, even though he has a strange obsession with sticking his nose right in her earholes. Actually maybe it’s not all that strange – I’ve caught myself rubbing my nose in her ears as well, although I don’t make quite such pronounced sniffing noises when I’m doing it.

Speaking of beach runs, both Beanie & Biggles have generally become much more manageable during offlead sessions this year, though Beanie did something very out of character this morning when we encountered a rather handsome, younger Beagle. He was also offlead, but trotting smartly just a few yards in front of his owner. Biggles – who was on an important mission at the time  (the ultimate goal of which never became clear) – totally blanked the youngster as he sprinted by. Ordinarily I’d have expected Beanie to do the same, but instead she made a bee-line directly for the little fellow, picking up speed all the time. At the very last instant she veered around him, woofed jubilantly, then shot another 60 yards down the beach, dived onto her back and engaged in a particularly vigorous rolling session on a bird carcass. Smelly break-dancing notwithstanding, this was essentially a classic Biggles fly-by maneuver. He does this to Beanie all the time (often incorporating a shoulder-barge), but this was the first time I’ve ever seen her do something similar. Obviously Biggles’ technique is superior due to years of diligent practice, but still I’d have to give Beanie a score of 6 out of 10, especially as this was her first attempt. I can only assume it’s some kind of flirting. Is my ten year old girl turning into a furry floozy?

I’ll finish with some shots from last week’s visit to Loch Chon in the Trossachs region. The autumn colors hadn’t reached their height, and recent harsh weather had already stripped some trees of their leaves, but it was still a very attractive place for a stop-over in the Beaglemobile.

One of the few dwellings by the Loch – Frenich Farm perhaps?

The sniffage was of the very highest quality

And abundant heather offered endless possibilities for picking up ticks

Cow ears are the usual in-van treat, but on this occasion a big red sausage made an acceptable alternative

I expected it to be swallowed in seconds, but it was surprisingly chewy and long-lasting

Beanie seemed particularly taken with hers, even finishing it ahead of The Bigglet

Happy Birthday Beanster!

It had to happen eventually, and last week it did; our nineteen year old Beaglemobile suffered a breakdown. We were on our way to Loch Turret for a long and probably very sniffy walk along the water and up a modest hill when – without any warning – the alternator quietly shuffled off its mortal, corroded copper coil. We were kind of lucky that it happened where it did – on a main road just the other side of the Erskine bridge; if it had occurred further into the drive we could have been stuck in the middle of nowhere without a phone signal. Obviously our planned walk was now off the cards, but that’s not the lost adventure from title of this post. Nope, real “adventure that wasn’t” happened (or rather didn’t happen) on the way back home.

Our breakdown service sent a big recovery vehicle capable of loading the van onto its back and taking it, and us, right back to our house. Immediately I had visions of our return journey being much more exciting for the furry contingent than the loch-side walk could ever have been. Both our Beagles love sitting on human booster seats in the cabin of a high vehicle; they can sniff deeply from the air vents, spy on people in little cars, randomly mess with the controls on the stereo unit and – with an appropriate amount of squirming and a bit of luck – maybe even sound the horn with their bottoms. Alas none of this came to pass; the driver of the recovery vehicle wanted them locked away in their crates in the Beaglemobile, and that was that.

Within an hour we were safely back home. All kinds of beeping noises had sounded off during the loading and unloading of the van, yet amazingly the bed in Beanie’s crate had remained pee-free; proof that at least she hadn’t been scared. She had however been very, very bored. And so had The Bigglet. Once back in the house there were lots of heavy sighs and snouts between front paws, so I did the only thing I could to recover the situation: I took them for a beach run.

I normally time my beach runs carefully so that the tide is incoming but hasn’t yet swallowed the beach. On this occasion however, low tide had been and gone some three hours previously, leaving us with only a narrow strip of sand on which to run. The biggest problem with running in these conditions is that the many interesting things washed in by the tide are right under your nose – or specifically, right under Beanie & Biggles’ noses. I found the clearest spot of beach I could, unclipped their leads and really upped my running pace in the hope that they’d stay with me. For a while it worked, but then they fell away behind me and I saw eight paws go up into the air: a synchronized roll was in progress. They were clearly having fun, so I didn’t have the heart to stop them.

In due course they sprinted back to me and I examined them for some indication of what they’d been rolling in. Poo? Assorted dead animal parts? I didn’t see anything like that, but I did notice a blood-red stain on one of Biggles’ thighs. Fearing he’d cut himself on a sharp can or something similar I reached down and began gently parting his fur to determine the extend of the injury.. but found nothing. Then out of the corner of my eye I noticed that Beanie had a similar mark on one of her legs. This was was no injury – this was what they’d rolled in! A pleasant feeling of relief passed through me but quickly faded when I rubbed at those red stains and snifffed my fingers. As a Beagle owner I’ve experienced some pretty vile smells, and while this wasn’t the worst (“shitvom” comfortably occupies pole position!), it was pretty bad. I clipped on their leads and the three of us headed into the waves for a scrubbing session; sadly this was only partially successful. Why is it that I always get a powerful desire to scratch my nose and wipe sweat from my brow when my hands smell like a sewer?

In the absence of any walk shots I’ll finish with a couple of portraits I took ahead of Beanie’s birthday – she’ll be 10 in a week or so!