We’ve finally redecorated and re-organized our small home office, and it’s taken on a bit of a Beagle theme. The whole point of the office was to create a peaceful, distraction-free working environment and yet somehow it’s ended up with two doggy beds and a treat jar in it.

The pups have always shown a strong interest in this particular room; I always figured this was because it was untidy with a grotty old carpet and lots of interesting rummaging opportunities, but now it’s clean and tidy they’re even more keen to hang out in there. Susan thinks it’s all down to the room’s small size and natural warmth (it has a full size radiator heating a small space, and faces the sun for a good chunk of the day – on those rare days when the sun puts in an appearance, that is). Regardless, my quiet workspace has now become known as “Beagle HQ”.

Er dad, this room is meant to be quiet! Hurry up and take your photos so I can back to clearing my napping backlog.

We’ve made some strict rules about no play-fighting or woofing contests in Beagle HQ, but I still have to deal with urgent blankie-covering requests from her highness The Beanster.

Fix my blankie. Fix My Blankie! FIX MY BLANKIE!

Those silent but intent stares are impossible to ignore. In their own way they’re actually more distracting than a paw on the arm, a pathetic whimper or Beanie’s specialty: the “fart gone wrong” noise. Interestingly we’ve caught Beanie staring at my chair for blankie service even when I’m not in it, which hints at the difference between doggy thinking and human thinking: she’s not knowingly requesting something from a human agent, so much as repeating a behavior that has apparently delivered the desired result in the past. Come to think of it I guess that’s not so different from humans after all; the same pattern-matching probably lies behind a lot of human rituals and superstitious beliefs. For example we use to perform sacrifices and pray to the gods to make crops grow, to see irrational portents in nature, and to vote in the expectation that politicians would carry out our wishes.

That’s one good thing about Biggles: he doesn’t have any expectations about the world and he’s not the least bit superstitious. He just keeps watch for opportunities, and happily takes advantage of them when they appear. For example, if I leave my desk without pushing my chair under it securely, there’ll be a Biggly boy on it when I return, my cup will be suspiciously clean like it’s just come out of the dishwasher, and there’ll be some unwanted modifications to whatever photos or documents I was working on.

Maybe those document modifications are his way of telling me that he’s under-represented in Beagle HQ. Beanie is the subject of the biggest photo on the walls, and she’s even taken over the mouse matt. The next time there’s a decent offer at a printshop I’ll have to square things up, but for now I’ll just have to save my work frequently and get used to shifting a big furry bottom off my seat before I can sit down.

I don’t know how I missed it for so long, but in Fairlie near Largs there’s a waterfall named after my little boy Biggles. Yesterday we visited it! In the photo below you can see Biggly himself in the foreground, and behind him is Biglees Waterfall.

As you’ll have noticed the spelling of “Biglees” isn’t quite right, but I’m confident it’s named after my boy. It’s not immediately obvious why the good people of Fairlie would associate their waterfall with The Bigglet; on the face of it there’s nothing about the area that is suggestive of the Beagle form.

However once you’re there in person – right down by the water – the link becomes clear: the waterfall smells funny. I’d describe it as a cross between a wet Beagle boy and the kind of fart that he releases about four hours after he’s been foraging on our local beach. With such a distinctive whiff it’s totally understandable that the waterfall should be named after his Biggleship.

Curiously Beanie didn’t seem jealous of Biggles’ claim to fame. She just got on with the important business of trying to chomp down on the fungal growths and twigs that were all around.

Perhaps somewhere in Britain there’s a waterfall or other natural feature named after the Beanster. If there is, I can only assume that it spends much of its time wrapped in a blankie and likes playing with floppy rabbits that squeak.

It’s now just over a week since our visit to the doggy physio and Beanie is noticeably more stable on her feet and growing in confidence when jumping. She received a pretty thorough back massage and stretch during the session and we’re continuing this at times when Beanie is receptive; basically this means nabbing her after a play session but before she gets settled under a blankie in a way that says: “Do Not Disturb Unless Food Is Involved”. Perhaps more importantly we were also given exercises to help counter any little imbalances / weaknesses that Beanie has developed.

The first of these involves regular slow walks along a course with obstacles that make her lift her feet cleanly. To achieve this I created an adjustable agility “ladder ” using PVC pipes and rope; as long as we get her to walk slowly to heel she does this quite well. The same cannot be said for The Bigglet; I’ve given him a few goes on the ladder so he doesn’t feel left out, but he usually makes a spectacular mess of it then proudly requests a biccie as a reward.

Just now the pipes are on the ground, but in a day or two I’ll raise them up a bit, making it more like the “cavaletti” arrangement used for training horses.

We’re also including short figure-of-eight weaving sessions around our legs. Both Beanie and Biggles are great at this; the challenge is to get them to do it slowly so that all limbs are working fully and no parts of the gait movement are being skipped.

The final prescription is for frequent wading in water. I do this near the end of our regular beach runs, taking the pups into the sea until the water is around Beagle belly height, and walking them slowly through it for a hundred yards or so. I have to say that this is not a popular exercise, especially given the freezing cold weather we’re having right now; Beanie gives me a really hard Clint Eastwood look throughout the session, and Biggles keeps trying to sneak back into shallower water. I keep telling them they should be grateful because they get a biccie once they’re back on dry land. What do I get? Cold wet feet and a big serving of diddly-squat, that’s what.

Although it wasn’t on her list of recommendations I reckon our recent walk up Haylie Brae at Largs would also have met with the physio’s approval; part of the walk involves going up a steep stepped section that really gets the those rear legs driving and lifting, and the walk is easily extended by further grassy inclines.

Sometime cattle can be seen wandering around on Haylie Brae, and that can be a concern for dog walkers. On this occasion there were no cows to be seen, but on our way back down a group of sheep had gathered at the bottom of the steps. It goes without saying that those same sheep were long gone by the time we’d made it down to the bottom.