Beanie & Biggles love hills and we love running, and we’ve been trying to combine the two. Our first attempt – a couple of weeks ago – was Kaim Hill in North Ayrshire. It seemed like a good choice on the surface; it’s the venue for a popular annual race and by all accounts is a good laugh to do. Unfortunately our experience was a little different. In the asbence of any obvious path we chose our own route up (never a good thing!) and soon discovered that the “hill” was really a heather-covered, insect-infested bog. We ended up walking more than we ran and I counted myself lucky to make it back to the car with both shoes still on my feet.

So, with the need to run up a hill still unsatisfied, we tried Dumgoyne (one of the Campsie Fells) on Sunday. This time there were no bogs or swarms of insects, but there was a well-worn path leading right to the top. In fact there were two paths, and that was the problem. One of the paths takes a winding approach to the summit, whereas the other one takes a very direct route straight up. Guess which one we chose?

One of the descriptions of the run I’d seen mentioned that at the steepest points we may have to drop from a  run to a brisk walk, but on the route we took, I ended up crawling on all fours with two sniffy beagles merrily tying me up with their leads.

Still, we did eventually make it to the top and got to enjoy some great views despite the hill’s modest height.

We got to do a lot more running on the way down when the alternative, much gentler and winding route revealed itself. Beanie and Biggles – who had pulled very little on the way up – now decided to coordinate their efforts in an attempt to get me arse-surfing my way down the hill. First there was a united all-out tug-fest to get me going faster than I wanted, then Biggles abruptly switched into sprint-stop-sprint mode while Beanie did her best to get under my feet. Somehow I managed to stay upright, but when we reached the final style they got me with the old “straight under the fence” routine.

Why is it that Beagles never have a reverse gear when you need it?

All in all it was a great work out and Beanie and Biggles loved it. I’ve a feeling we’ll be doing it again soon, and now that we know about the gentler path, we should be able to keep running more of the way up next time!

The Bigglet is now 3 years old! By way of celebration our birthday boy’s first act was to deposit a particularly smelly barf on our bedroom carpet, before climbing into bed with us for a cuddle. To be fair I had spotted him consuming a rather sloppy poo the previous night, but rather than interrupting him I took the lazy option and let him get on with it. Bad move.

With such a poor start to the day things surely had to improve, and indeed they did. I took both our pups out to the beach for a run, but to give them a treat I ditched their canicross bungee lines and used their extenders instead. It was harder work for me (our two Bs are officially the world’s best lead tanglers), but they loved it! Biggles made good use of his extra freedom by repeatedly shoulder-charging his sister, while Beanie tried to snatch a putrid chunk of dead bird that the tide had washed up. Runs on the beach don’t get much better than this!

Later in the day they got a play session in the garden, but to mark Biggles’ birthday I broke out the special Air Kong squeaky tennis balls.

There’s a strict Beagle protocol to be observed when a squeaky ball makes an appearance. Beanie uses her superior speed to seize the ball first, and cavorts round the garden squeaking away merrily. About a minute later she gets bored and forgets to guard her ball, allowing Biggles to nick it, whereupon he goads her into a chase..

When the chase peters out, we have a rendition of the famous Beagle aria “I’ve got a squeaky ball and you haven’t”

Shortly after this, Biggles takes the ball down to a quiet corner of the garden for some quality chew time. It’s at this point that I normally intervene to rescue the ball while it’s still in one piece, but this time I just let him get his chewing gear to work on it. If you can’t kill a squeaky ball on your birthday then there’s no justice in the world!

This ball is done squeakin’

Teatime came early for our pups, and hand cooked chicken and rice was on the menu. It took mere seconds for tea to be consumed, but the subsequent bowl-licking took more than ten minutes – a sure indication that it was well received. So no expensive toys this time, but I think my little boy thoroughly enjoyed his birthday nonetheless!

Happy third birthday Mr Biggles!