The Beanster is now 11 years old, and she’s come a long way in those 11 years.

Fresh out of the oven in 2007

Snoozing with all her brothers and sisters (the bottom closest to the dumbbell is hers)

Drunk on play at 1 year old

Dealing with a Suspicious Chicken on her Seventh Birthday (amazingly that toy is still with us today – them chickens are tough!)

Getting wascally with a wabbit on her 11th Birthday

Without even bothering to boot up my computer and check the weather, I started her birthday celebrations with a run on the beach. Had I seen the weather report I’d have known that storm “Callum” was paying a visit to Scotland; as it was I just drove to the beach as normal, merely noting as I got the pups harnessed and ready to go that it was really quite windy. It’s often the case that a UK storm which gets a name and national coverage presents only as slightly rougher day than normal here in Ayrshire, while something that gets no special attention from the Met Office ends up wrecking fences, uprooting trees and tearing off roof tiles. In this case the wind was just strong enough to make running difficult – killing momentum every time both my feet were off the ground – but the pups absolutely loved it! As I’m not a Beagle myself I can only guess at the smorgasbord of power sniffs that were being delivered to their little black noses, but even I could see the attraction of sprinting after all the little birds that had landed on the sand. Presumably those birds had found the conditions too rough for flight, but once they had a pair of screaming Beagles closing in on them they took off anyway. At one point when Beanie came sprinting back to me a for a chicken top-up, her face was hidden under sand and sea foam; only her peep-holes were uncovered with two bright, excited little eyes shining out from them. If Beanie could describe her ideal beach session I’m guessing this would have come pretty close to it, and that it should have happened on her Birthday was particularly sweet.

Once back home breakfast was followed by a serving of toys. Lately Beanie’s preference has been for long, floppy things that she can shake and tug, and I had high hopes for a two foot long stuffing-free rabbit I’d found on Amazon. The moment Beanie tore off the wrapping paper I knew I’d chosen well.

This particular wascally wabbit has a single heavy squeaker in its head which makes it ideal for shaking, and the stitching and material seems just about tough enough to stand up to a few months of tug games. Uncharacteristically for him Biggles killed a few toys recently, so Susan picked out a floppy blue bear as his unbirthday pressie. Initially Biggles seemed more interested in Beanie’s toy than his own but in the days since that blue bear has been spotted in a number of Biggles’ favorite haunts, and he’s been honing his ungainly pouncing skills on it whenever he’s felt that he isn’t being watched.

No birthday can go by without a cake and the pups got to watch the creation of the latest one from behind the kitchen baby gate. It was immediately obvious as the cake emerged from the cooker that it smelled good – really good – but the news that it was too hot to eat immediately was not well received.

When something smelly is happening in the kitchen it’s a Beagle’s duty to investigate

While Beanie licked out the mixing bowl, Biggles performed a thorough cleansing of the cake-making utensils

The sense of anticipation was palpable

Then came the unwelcome news that serving would be delayed until the cake had cooled sufficiently

While waiting for her cake, Beanie passed the time by playing with her rabbit and humping legs. She tried mine a couple of times but when I proved unwilling she targeted Susan who was having a nap on the sofa. I couldn’t tell you how many times Beanie has humped Susan’s legs; it’s a very regular occurrence and the count must be in the thousands, but there was a brief hiatus a few days ago when a hump attempt went very, very wrong. Susan had curled up on the sofa and covered herself with a dog blanket, and as often happens Biggles had snook in with her for a cuddle. All this was normal, except that rather than snuggling up to Susan’s tummy or bottom, Biggles had on this occasion stretched out alongside her legs. In due course Beanie spotted the humping opportunity and mounted what she thought was a leg, only to discover that it was in fact Biggles’ blanket-covered head. As a mere observer I found it very difficult to tell who was more shaken by the experience: Beanie, who aborted the hump immediately and ran off to my chair, placing her paws on my arm for reassurance, or Biggles, who hurriedly shook off his cover and appeared dazed and shocked for several minutes afterwards.

Happily the birthday leg humping session went without any drama, and was impressively vigorous given all the earlier sprinting on the beach. Not long after it had concluded the cake was ready to serve.

Every Beagle birthday cake should be served on a Beagle napkin

The cake grab was so rapid that I couldn’t get a shot of it, but you can at least see a big bulge at the side of Beanie’s mouth

Three seconds and one brief choking incident later, and all that’s left is a few stray cake molecules on the napkin, but Beanie soon took care of them. Elsewhere in the room, Biggles decided that a more efficient way to get all the crumbs was simply to eat the whole napkin. 

The next day on our regular walk another dog owner misidentified my two as puppies, probably because Beanie is still so animated when she meets someone. I love it when that happens; some people even think that Beanie is the pup and Biggles is her mum! No doubt the day will come when it stops happening, but regardless they’ll always be pups to me.

Happy 11th Birthday Beanie!

We’ve always thought that Biggles was special. Every time he’s got his head stuck in a box, or fallen into a lake, or spent a full five minutes rearranging his bed in the car crate only to end up sitting uncomfortably on the plastic base, or squatted for a hefty dump while crossing a busy road on lead, “Oh yes”, we’ve said to ourselves, “he’s a special boy alright”. Biggles himself however was blissfully unaware of just how special he was until recently. I’m not sure exactly when it happened but I’m guessing he was just noisily snoring away on his back one afternoon with all his bits on display, when his one good brain cell finally put all the evidence together..

Blimey! I must be a really, really special boy!

His epiphany was no doubt inspired by all the first-class treatment he received while his foot was bandaged. He got to sleep in the big bed with the humies while Beanie had to slum it in her crate; when going for trips in the car he got to ride up front on someone’s lap, and he never got left alone for longer than a minute! All these things and more were solid proof that he was a much more important little Beagle boy than he’d ever dared dream.

Once the realization had dawned however, there were notable changes in his behavior. Suddenly he had the confidence to play with Beanie’s favorite toys – which previously he’d considered to be way off limits – and even trashed one of them. If she occupied his posh new day-bed, he’d bravely woof her out of it, and he even diversified his lucrative sock gathering business to include pants. On the day I took him for the final post-surgery checkup for his foot, the vet said “Fabulous! I don’t think you’ll have any more problems with that!”

I was about to reply “Actually, I’m pretty sure I will” but then I realized she was just talking about his foot rather than the whole Bigglet.

Now of course we’re gradually resuming our normal routine. It took a couple of false starts, but he’s sleeping in his crate at night again and has accepted that he’s back in the steerage compartments when we go on a car journey. Despite this his confidence is still running high; he hasn’t been this full of beans since before the days when his puppy license expired and Beanie told him off. I’m loving it, but I feel slightly saddened that we didn’t build him up enough after Beanie slapped him down; has he spent all those intervening years feeling undervalued? Regardless, things are definitely going well in the Biggleverse just now.

Finally, a few more shots from our recent “no more bandage” celebratory trip to Loch Venachar:

Ten days after his op Biggles finally ditched that huge wad of dressing and bandage on his foot, and best of all this didn’t happen because we left him unattended for too long – it was removed carefully by the vet. The initial joy of having his foot released from its crepe prison was quickly dampened by the return of the lampshade; he was desperate to give the wound a good licking and we were under strict instructions to prevent it. I’ve taken to referring to the lampshade as his “Bonker” because he still hasn’t learned to make allowances for the dramatic increase in the size of his head.

The Bonker is back on and my boy’s not happy about it..

..but that foot has to be protected from the licking machine that’s attached to it!

Biggles may not have been thrilled about the lampshade, but he was happy to be allowed out into the garden and on longer walks without first having a poo bag tied around his foot and his silver bootie fitted on top of that. I have to admit I was also getting really tired of all that rigmarole towards the end. At first I kind of enjoyed doing up his velcro “shoelaces” every time he went outside, but trying to get him to hold still enough to remove everything on re-entry was  a challenge to the say the least, and the whole thing got old pretty quickly.

I love the smell of Biggles’ feet and it seems he does too

Thanks to all the special treatment Biggles received during his convalescence I suspect he feels that his position in the pack has been upgraded; certainly he’s been confidently taking the lead on walks, claiming the best sofa positions and demanding play sessions. We were a bit worried that Beanie’s sniffer might get put of joint because of all this, but she’s taken it well – if anything it’s made her a bit more cuddly.

Beanie lures me into a play session with her new squeaky raccoon (which is now in two pieces, just like her old one)

A final check of his foot is due later this week, but it’s looking better each day and on the strength of that I’m gradually building The Bigglet back up to full length walks. This morning we all went for a gentle jog on the grass together at the beach park and he absolutely loved it, taking pole position almost the whole time and nearly yanking my arm out of its socket when we went up hilly bits. He’s obviously feeling like he’s back to 100% and by the time his final checkup his done, I think he really will be.  On top of this, we’ve had the results back from the lab and his growth was benign. For those who are interested, the lump was identified as a “fibroadnexal hamartoma” (related to hair follicles / glands) and removal really was the best course of action; it was growing rapidly and increasingly becoming inflamed by contact with grass and sand as he was running about.