Little Horror

Posted on June 10, 2019 by Paul

For a while now I’ve been signed up to what seems to be the last DVD rental service in the UK – CinemaParadiso. Each time a new disc arrives I make popcorn and have a screening in what I refer to as our “posh” lounge, so named because it’s had less exposure to Beagle vomit and bum-wiping than our other rooms. While the popcorn guarantees that I’ll start off with two Beagle watching partners, usually a short way into the movie I’ll be down to just one: if the film is a horror, it’ll typically be Beanie, and for sci-fi it’ll be Biggles.

It makes sense that Beanie wouldn’t be overly fond of sci-fi movies; they’re often filled with beeping noises which can be very scary to little Beagle girls, whereas blood-curdling screams are just fine. As for Biggles, well I didn’t honestly think he had any particular aversion to horrors – until I watched “The possession of Hannah Grace” the other night. I didn’t find it to be a particularly scary movie, but Biggles apparently did; shortly after the start I heard him whimpering softly from the other sofa. When I made room for him next to me (which wasn’t easy because I had to shift Beanie up a bit), he came over like a shot and wouldn’t relax until I’d wrapped my arm right round him to provide both a cuddle and a chin rest. Ironically he’s the one who most often looks possessed – tickle that big white tummy of his just right and his eyes roll back in his head like a scene from The Exorcist.

Speaking of horrors, Beanie has proved once again that she is one, by tearing up a new plant we’d got for the back garden. She’s got form for this kind of thing; as a puppy she was a serial flower-killer, but we were hoping that she’d grown out of it by now.

Directly after planting she was keen to examine our work and did nibble a bit of compost (who wouldn’t?), but a cautionary “Oi! I’m watching you!” put a stop to that. Nearly a whole week passed without any further incidents, but I suspect that – as with TV’s Dexter Morgan – Beanie was trying to resist the urges of her “dark passenger”. Suddenly one evening the dark passenger won, and in the aftermath I found bits of plant and soil strewn all over the patio. No dirty paws or mucky snouts were in evidence, but the frenzied nature of the attack made it clearly a Beanie crime scene. The plant hadn’t been simply dug up – it had been ripped out of the soil and shaken like a Polaroid picture. Once a plant-killer, always a plant-killer!

Never let a Beagle make your coffee

Posted on May 20, 2019 by Paul

We’ve just bagged our first mountain sunrise of 2019 on Beinn an Lochain in the Arrochar region.

It was our second visit to this vertically challenged but unusually steep hill; as before we drove down on the evening before our walk, parking up near Butterbridge. Initially I was keen to set up directly in the Butterbridge car park but I soon changed my mind. For one thing, the parking area has become a bit of mess due to ongoing roadworks, and for another Butterbridge itself has seemingly become a popular site for wild-camping drunks. We ended up in a quiet layby which was actually closer to the start of our walk.

Butterbridge with Beinn an Lochain behind it; sadly not quite as peaceful as it looks in this shot!

I’d planned to head off at 3am in the morning, so at 9pm I called it a night and began to prepare our bed. All I had to do was pull out the rear seat, put a bit of air in our two inflatable bed rolls and zip two sleeping bags together et voila: one bed ready for use. How hard could it be? In practice the procedure was a bit more complicated than that because I had assistance from The Bigglet. He’s always fancied himself as a bit of a bed-making expert despite the fact that his efforts usually turn any comfortable-looking napping surface into a lumpy misshapen mess. The instant I unfurled the bed rolls and tried to blow air into them my lungs had to overcome the resistance of 13 kilos of furry Beagle boy, and when I tried to zip the sleeping bags together I had to wrestle the other end of them out of his lordship’s mouth. Beanie just watched the whole thing from the driver’s seat, making occasional sighs as if to say “uughh, boys!”. I did eventually get the bed made and got the three of us settled in it, but my slumber was punctuated by an occasional kick in the nethers when Biggles had one of his more active dreams. When 3am came it was kind of a relief.

The lasting impression from our previous walk up Beinn an Lochain was that it was a shorter climb than most other hills, but a really intense workout. Maybe last time I’d been so keen to beat the sunrise that I’d rushed the ascent, or maybe I’ve got stronger and fitter since then; either way, this time around the climb up didn’t seem nearly so bad. We hit the top with enough time to have a drink and celebratory treat then hunt out a good spot to catch the rising sun. This turned out to be just below the summit, where the steep ridge we’d just climbed was in clear view.

It’s counter-intuitive but sunrise on a mountain is usually accompanied by an abrupt if short-lived drop in temperature; this time however the hilltop just got warmer and brighter. It was absolutely glorious up there, but pockets can only hold just so many treats; all too soon we ran out of Goodboy Chicken Hide Twisters and the furry sherpas got rowdy, forcing us to begin the descent.

It was on the way down that my glutes and quads reminded me that Beinn an Lochain is in fact still quite the workout; I was very glad when we finally made it back to the van. I dealt with the high priority items first: two bowls of Chappie and fresh chilled water. Once that had been speed-swallowed I was able to attend to my own needs, and I had a treat in store…

Yes, I’d seen a flavored coffee in our local Aldi store that carried my little girl’s name and I just had to try it. Unfortunately this coffee really did taste like it had been made by a Beagle. As I took my first sip I was immediately reminded of that scene in the second Austin Powers movie where our hero fills his cup from the wrong jug.

I haven’t had the heart to tell Beanie, but the contents of her little jar has been quietly replaced with something more palatable. If your Beagle ever offers to make you a coffee, I suggest you politely decline – unless you like your beverage to be “a bit nutty”.

What the Romans did for us

Posted on May 6, 2019 by Paul

In Monty Python’s Life of Brian a character called Reg (John Cleese) asks: “Apart from the sanitation, the medicine, education, wine, public order, irrigation, roads, a fresh water system, and public health, what have the Romans ever done for us?”

Well now there’s evidence to suggest that they did something else of note: they created the conditions necessary for the development of the Beagle in Britain. Next time your socks get modified with nibble holes and that cup of hot chocolate you put down a few minutes ago isn’t just empty, but suspiciously clean, don’t blame your Beagles – blame the blummin’ Romans!

Now I’m not suggesting that it was the Romans themselves who selectively bred the naughtiest dogs they could find until they eventually produced Beagles. That’s absolutely not the case! However it would appear that they brought rabbits to Britain, and in doing so they set us on a path that ultimately resulted in the creation of the rabbit’s nemesis: the Beagle.

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2019/apr/18/ben-fur-romans-brought-rabbits-to-britain-experts-discover

On paper Beagles certainly should be good rabbit/hare hunters; they have world-class sniffing gear and they’re remarkably agile, persistent and resourceful. I have to admit that Beanie possesses these traits in abundance…

Unfortunately I have my doubts about Biggles; he does well enough with the kind of rabbit that’s stuffing-free and has a big squeaker in its head, but when he’s in the presence of the other kind – the kind that can move all by itself – he just keeps his head down and avoids eye contact.

Could it be that he’s afraid of the real thing? Perhaps another quote from Life of Brian applies here..

Biggles: He’s not the messiah of rabbit hunting, he’s just a very naughty boy!