We had planned to do some lure coursing on the beach this morning. However, Beanie and Biggles were so good off-lead that we decided to quit while we were ahead. We weren’t 100% certain that they’d reliably come to us when they’d finished chasing the lure, so decided to do a bit more garden practice.

They took it in turns to play off-lead on the beach. We played fetch, chases, practiced our Heelwork to Music moves and had lots of yummy treats.

There was one rather embarassing moment when Beanie took off after some poor athlete doing some kind of physiotherapy exercise that involved a ball on a bit of string. Well, what did he expect?!?!?

As soon as we got home we headed out to the garden to play with the lure. We had wondered whether it was safe to use the pullys in the garden as it would mean making some fairly sharp turns. But having seen how they twist and turn when they’re chasing each other we figured they’d be fine. Beanie knew EXACTLY what was about to happen when I started hammering the pullys into the ground. She ran along beside me excitedly, baying her head off – she was desparate to run! Biggles on the other hand was more interested in using his brain (yes, he has got one) to figure out the optimum position to lie in wait so he can catch the lure as it flies past.

We didn’t get the first run on camera, but it was awsome! I think Beanie and Biggles thought the lure was just going to go straight down the garden and stop. They could hardly contain themselves when it turned 90 degrees, shot across the garden then zig-zagged back up the hill again! They bayed, yelped and squealed all the way and their little eyes sparkled with excitement!

A couple of days ago – just as it looked like we were finally going to be rid of the ice and snow – the sky turned grey and down came a fresh layer of the white stuff. In a way it was kind of welcome; it’s way easier to walk on fresh snow than on partially thawed ice, and my bum, back and left knee were still sore from a couple of Beagle-induced falls. Anyway we headed to the beach and set off on our morning walk.

It was quiet, really really quiet, and as the three of us left our tracks in the virgin snow I began to wonder if we were the first on the beach that morning. I quickly concluded that was unlikely given that I’m a lazy git who needs a nuke to get me out of bed, but still, where were the other tracks? Eventually we did find evidence of other walkers, and evidence of.. something else..

The paw prints in the upper half of the shot belong to Beanie and/or Biggles, but who or what left the huge print in the lower half? Last year after a fresh snowfall we ran into a Yeti, clearly this time we’d crossed paths with Big Foot! Beanie & Biggles immediately locked onto BF’s trail and together we set off in pursuit of our prey.

He went that-a-way! Possibly..

The thing is, Beanie and Biggles aren’t quite the ace trackers they think they are. Many’s the time I’ve been pulled along the beach as they follow horseshoe prints that are clearly going in the opposite direction. When I petition them for an emergency re-sniffing they ignore me, instead getting into a squabble about who’s baying correctly (Biggles is certainly the loudest, but I think he’s a bit of a babbler, and so apparently does Beanie). And so it was this time. Our hunt descended into in a big play fight, and by the time I’d broken it up and untangled the leads, the three of us had forgotten all about Big Foot.

OK, so we didn’t find Big Foot, but Beanie & Biggles have made one of my socks big enough to fit him. The initial sock grab was made by Beanie. Biggles is a member of Sockaholics Anonymous and has been on the wagon for some months now (though he has developed a tea towel addiction) but he fell off the wagon spectacularly when his big sister waved my extra smelly foot garment in his face.

By the time the resulting tug of war was over my sock had tripled in length and had numerous holes for enhanced ventilation.

This isn’t the only undergarment that has received some Beagle modifications. Yesterday I became aware that my left arse cheek wasn’t quite as well contained as the right one, and subsequent examination revealed a large ventilation hole in my underpants. If the hole had been any further to the east it could have hampered by ability to deal with those really insistent personal itches.