Like most Beagle boys, Biggles really likes to have a chin rest when he’s napping, and I’m pretty sure that the perfect chin rest for him would be the warm, well-padded bottom of a friendly Beagle girl. Unfortunately he doesn’t have access to one of those; instead he’s got Beanie. Her bottom may be warm, but it isn’t particularly well-padded. Worse still, she generally likes to sleep alone – preferably in the humies’ bed or under a blankie – and is prone to grumbling if disturbed.

As Biggles’ 12th birthday approached, we considered other ways to get him the warm comfortable chin-rest he deserves. After an extensive Googling session, Susan spotted this:

He’s called Bonzo, and because he’s a boy rather than a girl, Biggles’ initial meeting with him was a bit awkward.

Undeterred, we carried on with Biggles’ busy birthday morning schedule. He had a walk with an extended blackberry picking session, a buffalo ear and a good long chew of his favorite filled hoof.

As an aside, I can’t sing the praises of filled hooves enough. I’ve found that if I hand them out just as we’re starting an indoor movie night, we get to see most of the movie without any intermissions. If you’re old enough, you probably associate the term “intermission” with a break in the film, during which a staff member tours the aisles selling ice-creams and other treats. The intermissions on our movie night are kind of similar, except that the member of staff is always Biggles, and the only thing he’s got for sale is the sock he’s just nicked from our bedroom.

Anyway, getting back to his Lordship’s big day, he did of course also get a birthday cake which was consumed quickly enough to set a new personal best time.

It should be noted however that Beanie is still the world record-holder for speed swallowing of birthday cakes and just about anything else she can get her jaws round.

After such a busy morning an extended nap was due, and it was at this point that Biggles overcame the prior awkwardness with Bonzo. You see the thing about Bonzo is that he has a big microwaveable heat pad in his tummy. That, combined with plenty of soft, springy stuffing, makes him into a very comfortable chin-rest, and he doesn’t much care whether you put your chin on his bottom, his head, or his paws.

One Beagle’s birthday is always another Beagle’s UNbirthday at our house, so we got the pups a Bonzo each. Such is the power of Bonzo’s gentle, comforting heat that even Beanie fell into a deep sleep without requesting a blankie covering. When she eventually awoke and went out to do what a girl’s gotta do in the garden, the Birthday Boy got to sample the extreme luxury of double Bonzos.

It’s notable that with Bonzo in their crates, both Beanie and Biggles settle down to sleep very quickly at night, with no noisy bed making attempts, and on mornings they tend not to be so desperate to swap their own beds for a snuggle with us in the humie bed. However, be aware that although Bonzo clearly feels great to little furry people, the quality of his stitching leaves a lot to be desired; Biggles nearly decapitated his when rearranging things on the sofa. Still, if Bonzo lasts I think our two pups will be much more comfortable during the long, cold winter nights that are coming.

I’ve heard a few discussions on talk shows about the effect of covid lockdowns on dogs. Apparently separation anxiety is a common development, but that doesn’t seem to be an issue for us, whereas jealousy definitely is. Beanie shows the most conspicuous and comical symptoms, and as a result we’re now calling her Little Miss FOMO.

When I go into the garden for a workout I often do my best to entice the pups out with me, but more often than not Biggles is the only one that actually turns up. By the time I’m done, Beanie’s FOMO compells her to check the site of my training session to verify that no biccies were secretly handed out, and typically she’ll also give Biggles a once-over sniffing too. It’s almost like a customs inspection; if she could pull latex gloves onto her front paws and give Biggles a body cavity search I’m sure she would (and to be honest I think Biggles might actually enjoy that – he’s always been a bit too keen on anal thermometers).

What’s going on, and is food involved?

If he’s busy cleaning his fur after a walk and things get overly noisy and slurpy – as can happen – I can guarantee that her head will pop out of her bed to check that he’s not getting something she isn’t. Her most illogical FOMO symptom involves cuddle sessions. Beanie has always hated soppy cuddles, but if she sees Biggles getting hugs and fondles, she hops onto the other side of the sofa and presents herself for the same treatment. It’s only when the cuddles start that she remembers how much she loathes them and demands a blankie covering.

I can’t believe I thought this was a good idea – blankie me NOW and don’t leave my head sticking out!

Convinced that she has a full comprehension of English but just pretends not to understand when it suits her (which is admittedly most of the time), I’ve been having long conversations with her to talk her out of all this FOMO behavior. I remind her that wherever possible we follow the “if one puppy gets, then so does the other” rule, and make her more aware of what a great ally she has in The Bigglet. For example, every time Biggles obtains a sock and sells it to me for a biccie, Beanie gets a biccie too. I guess it’s the equivalent of VAT at 100%, and even though it does reduce the number of socks I’m prepared to purchase from Biggles, he’s totally OK with it. Then there’s the rigmarole that happens when Miss FOMO catches me tickling Biggles’ tummy. I offer to tickle hers, but she refuses, sits right in front of me and begins airing her grievances like some 1970s trade union leader. Biggles, ever the supportive brother, jumps right down beside her and joins in, even though he’s effectively complaining about his own tummy tickle session.

Perhaps one day she’ll realize that all the FOMO stuff is unnecessary, and that we’re always looking out for her interests. Until then, that suspicious little bonce of hers is going to keep popping out of the bed to check she’s not missing out on anything.

Just over a week ago when we were immersed in a DIY & decorating frenzy, Biggles got around 5 minutes unsupervised access to our utility room. This is where we keep our bins, the fridge-freezer, and crucially, several months’ worth of kibble. As I’ve noted in previous posts, my boy has a history of not fully capitalizing on moments of opportunity, but this time he got it (mostly) right:  he ignored the bins and the fridge and focused on the three 12kg bags of Burns Alert sitting in the alcove under the boiler. Being Biggles, he still targeted the only bag that had been shipped in a heavy duty woven plastic sack, rather than going for the other two which were otherwise unprotected, but to his credit he nibbled a hole through both the sack and the bag within and made a fair dent in the contents before his 5 minute free-for-all was up. He would have got longer than 5 minutes, but unfortunately the rhythmic battering of his wagging tail against a radiator caught my attention.

Some dogs might regard a big score like that as the achievement of a lifetime and retire from the world of competitive naughtiness, but not my boy. After a few hours of downtime (absolutely unavoidable as his bloated stomach struggled to process the bumper intake of kibble), he was right back to pushing the envelope. Could he sneak back into the utility room for a second go? How many socks could he nick from the bedroom? And how many sheets of sandpaper and rolls of masking tape could be ruined while left unattended on the kitchen floor? Yep, no resting on laurels for The Bigglet, it’s “Excelsior!” all the way.

When life presents you with an old pipe that’s big enough to take your take your head, what you do?

If you’re living life the Biggles way, you just stick your head straight down it, no questions asked.

Beanie hasn’t been idle this last couple of weeks, either: she’s discovered that our miniature strawberry plants are now bearing fruit, and she’s been picking that fruit at every opportunity.

The strawberries really are small, but they’re meant to be super-sweet and full of flavor. I can’t say whether that last part is true or not, because of course I haven’t got to taste any of them yet. Somehow I don’t think that’s going to change any time soon!