Life – Dexter

The review of 2025

My yearly review of what happened to both Lenny and I, usually doing stuff together. Sometimes we undertook shenanigans and adventures separately as, apparently, we behave better when we are apart. Who knew, beagles getting together causes fun and games. Anyway, here goes.

JANUARY

The year started (and almost ended) with yours truly in the Cone of Shame. My ears were playing me up something rotten and it would take a long time to get to the bottom of the problem. We did manage to snooze an awful lot as well as have a lovely walk along toward Lady Halton from Bromfield.

FEBRUARY

We reacquainted ourselves with Ludlow in early February, followed by a trip to the Elan Valley and then topped it off with a stroll along Carding Mill Valley. In between times we snoozed and (allegedly) got under the feet of our staff. We were very lucky that the weather was kind to us in February and we enjoyed some days out and about, despite it being a bit chilly.

MARCH

As the days became longer we decided to do some adventures separately so Lenny went for wander around Wart Hill followed by a joint return visit to Carding Mill Valley. This time however we trekked along to a place called Light Spout Waterfall which was more of a trickle thanks to the lack of appreciable rain. The path was still slippery enough for some uneven footing on the part of the assistants.

APRIL

As the year stretched before us, we decided that our helpers should take us further afield so we followed our noses on a little excursion to Croft Castle which was fun. We snoozed as you would expect in between the bouts of shenanigans and exploration. Lenny decided to take his allocated human on a trip around Stokesay Wood, Sallow Coppice and back to the house. Both were somewhat tired once they reached home.

MAY

It was my birthday so I took Lenny along to Wirral Country Park to meet with Sasha and her mum. We had a great time of course. We followed that journey up with a trip to a warm and rather verdant Attingham Park near Shrewsbury. Again it was great to get out and scent somewhere. Sadly May was also a thoughtful month Curfew took her final stroll to meet all those who have passed before, over the Rainbow Bridge. There was so much sadness among the BeagleBugClub members, which was tinged with love for having known Curfew.

JUNE

Summer was here and the thermometer was rising. We slowed down, wandered about the garden, walked earlier in the morning and generally tried to be careful in the heat and humidity. Lenny did manage to get some hay bale leaping done though, in honour of Charley, Boot and Griff.

JULY

As June melted into July the temperature remained high, the walks continued to be early and snoozing was practised quite regularly. The assistants were kept busy making sure the vegetables and fruit in our garden were growing well enough to be enjoyed once they were ready. We did manage trips to Carding Mill Valley and Mortimer Forest near Ludlow. Not that Lenny looked like he enjoyed himself much.

AUGUST

The summer seemed endless. The temperature rarely dropped and the snoozing rarely stopped. Our days out were dictated by early morning shenanigans and wooded walks to avoid the heat of the midday sun. I did get a snazzy new cooling mat to keep my body temperature at a reasonable level. We also made it back to Attingham for an early morning stroll. Both Lenny and I had numerous visits to the v-e-t in August so we couldn’t really go out too often.

SEPTEMBER

The temperature cooled and the days started to shorten. Fruit and vegetables from the garden were being harvested and we started to have later walks during the day. Lenny strolled up the hill to Dinchope, I was trussed up in the Cone of Shame and we wandered around the town all the while thinking we live somewhere with nice scenery right on our doorstep.

OCTOBER

Chillier evenings were coming back into fashion, albeit with warm days allowing for us to continue our wanderings both near and far. The trees of Mortimer Forest held many scents, we managed a 10k circuit around one of the local hills and even a return trip to Carding Mill Valley. In between all of these adventures, I was at the vet more times than I care to remember.

NOVEMBER

As the clocks went back, the evenings started earlier and our log burner was lit more frequently. Lenny and I decided to surprise Sasha and her mum, who had arranged a meet-up with our friends Smudgey & Ted at Royden Park on The Wirral. The heavens opened for a few days and the field to the front of the house became the biggest duck pond. Attingham Park called to our senses once more and the mornings became misty and ethereal.

DECEMBER

The year was rounded off in some style. I was allowed out of the Cone of Shame as my ears were beginning to feel better after numerous visits to my second home, aka the vet. I must say that the vets are very nice, even though I appear to complain about them. We went for a walk up to the gliding station on top of the Long Mynd, on the recommendation of our friend Griff that we would be able to see all the way into Wales. Sadly it was so foggy that we hardly saw the paw in front of our noses. Christmas Day saw us on to of the Long Mynd via Carding Mill Valley. for the second year running it was a lovely day although somewhat breezy. We finished December with a trip to Erddig National Trust near Wrexham with five of our friends for company. It was a lovely walk, just right to round off the year.

What does 2026 hold? Don’t ask me. Lenny and I have had an excellent year, met up with so many friends, travelled quite widely and explored more locally. Hopefully we will get out and about more often in 2026 albeit with the caveat that it’s not too strenuous for an older beagle like myself. I have to be careful not to overdo stuff now that I will be 16 in May. We have again lost far too many pals over the year so we remain mindful of our mortality. Our grief over their loss is tempered by contentment that they have been friends and we are honoured to know them.

Whatever 2026 holds for you, please make sure you try to get out and about to enjoy yourselves. Be more beagle.

Another year of safety has passed

On this day in 2013 I was plucked from the kennel at the rescue centre and driven to my new home. It was my Gotcha Day. I had no idea then what was to happen to me but I know I am safe, loved and cared for.

Even the addition of Lenny to the pack changed little after the initial fun and games and we have grown to be good buddies. I am growing older and as will have been seen from previous posts, I am getting wobblier and susceptible to infections and illnesses. It is all part of life’s rich pageant and I cannot change it. Nor would I want to change it. I will press on regardless with my usual aplomb and lack of complaint.

Twelve years and thirteen Christmases have passed. My life is happy, safe and I am loved. If I could wish only one thing for fellow rescue furs it would be that they have the same security as I have. Oh and more treats of course.

And so it begins once more.

There we were, halfway through November, and the Cone of Shame was not weighing me down. Days were fun, nights were quiet, even tranquil and life was good.

All at once it began, the itchiness, the urge to stick my paw into my ear to scratch the itch and to roll my head on the rug to try and alleviate the incessant urge to make my ears raw with the application of my paws. My parentals looked at one another, sighed loudly, felt sad for me and made the inevitable phone call to the v-e-t who was of course glad to assist. Duly loaded into my travel crate I was off to my second home, a short distance of some eight miles to go and see one of the vets. I seem to be on first name terms with them by now. I was examined and some swabs taken for analysis both at the v-e-t as well as off to the lab. This was all done last week and we waited until yesterday to hear the results. Oh how exciting I have another ear infection which is different to the previous ear infection. Joy of joys (insert appropriate levels of sarcasm here). So, here I am, being dog-handled twice a day by the parentals so the new ear drops can be administered to my itchy lugs.

So there you have it. My freedom from the Cone of Shame was brief and I am now returned to its grasp around my neck. Cue comments such as “where is flowerpot head?” and “here comes the frilled lizard?”. When will this ignominy end? When will I be free from the clutches of the CoS. Is this destined to be my life from here on?

Answers on a postcard please.

The silence of the Beagle

The quiet one will be me. Those who know me, and who have met me, will be aware that I am rarely quiet but that’s another story.

So, I have been quiet on here as well as on other unnamed platforms, for a while now. With the help of my assistants we have been dealing with a few symptoms of old age creeping up on me and I have been neglecting my duties on here. Also I am not yet ready to hand over the editorial reins to my young vampiric assistant Lenny.

Since around last November I have spent most of my waking hours along with those of slumber, in a piece of torture equipment that is known by us furry fiends as the Cone of Shame.

I have been biting my paws, gnawing my legs, scratching my ears and itching my chin pretty much relentlessly. Through numerous visits to the vet I have been on many potions and lotions to try and alleviate my inability to avoid scratching and biting my various extremities to such a degree that my ears became infected, the ears were also scratched raw, I was chewing my legs to the extent that I was pulling the fur out and finally, my chin was red raw as a result of me incessantly scratching the itch. I have been tortured by my itchy demons until quite recently when I visited the vet and was seen by a person I had not encountered before. Swabs were taken of my ear infection, the source was identified, lotion administered and the ear problem subsided. Then it was onto the paws and chin which needed an injection to be given in my rump to settle down the symptoms. I got the injection on 29th September and the problem started to calm down within a few days. I was still in the Cone of Shame as my feet couldn’t resist trying to make their merry way toward my ears and chin until last Friday 10th October. I was snuggled up on the sofa next to my favourite assistant and she removed the Cone. I snoozed quietly. After we had been into the garden for our final business trip of the day I was expecting to see the Cone making its evil way back toward my neck, but it strangely stayed away. I slept without the fiendish device on Friday, found myself without the Cone all day Saturday including my sleeping time. Yesterday I was once more allowed to be outside of the Cone. I haven’t scratched, I’m not itchy and I don’t feel the need to rake my chin and ears, with my toes.

There is a general feeling of relief around the house that I am on the path toward a happier retirement from my duties and that I can live out my days pretty much without the infernal item being attached to me. There is some way to go, my assistants watch me like hawks and I often get warning glares if I become too frantic with my scratching. I may be writing on here a bit more often, you never know. Moral of my tail is, I suppose, that even us beagles have to listen to other people now and then as it seems to be in our best interests. Getting old isn’t necessarily fun or all its cracked up to be. Hopefully I can age disgracefully now, without the Cone being used too frequently.

Another scorcher

As the summer ploughs on, the days become warmer more frequently and I become more languid and, maybe, lazier. I think I’m allowed to be lazy now that I am allegedly fifteen. In any case, our walks with the parentals have been made earlier and earlier, before the sun is too high and the warmth makes it uncomfortable for myself and my little pal, Lenny.

As it was this morning we were walked briefly across the field outside the front of our house. We were quickly turned around and headed back toward the house. Lenny and I knew what this meant and right on cue, the car was opened so we could be coerced into our travel crates. Along the lane, turn right, turn left, follow the road, through Ludlow, across the bridge, sharp right and then on to our destination of Mortimer Forest. We haven’t been here before so our attempts at trying to leap from the boot of the car into 2,500 acres were not greeted with too much appreciation from the parentals. Something was mumbled about two idiot beagles running around and not listening to commands.

We set off at a pace along the first path, through the cool trees and trying to keep under the cover of the tree canopy. The sun was rising swiftly and we wanted to try and see as much as we could in the time available. Once we had walked briskly around a circuitous route, we found ourselves coming toward a fellow beagle called Chester who was thirteen, off lead and well behaved. What was this sorcery? I fear this is the end game for Lenny and his “training”.

Sooner than we would have liked we found ourselves returned to the car, placed unceremoniously into our travel crates and headed home. Breakfast was of course served in the utility, after which Lenny and I took our leave to stroll over to a sofa each for rest and snoozing.

It’s too hot for an older chap like me, so I suppose I should be grateful I have a walk early morning so I can sniff at my leisure and not have to worry about overheating. We also tend to stay off roads and tarmac paths as these can heat up far too quickly for our pads which burn and become very sore. Whilst the hot weather continues, we will walk early and chill out for the rest of the day.

Early rambles

It’s a scorcher out there and I haven’t blogged for a while. There appear to have been quite a few things that have gone on in my life since I last updated anyone who will listen.

Our walks have become earlier and earlier due to the vagaries of the British summer being very hot on 7-10 days, wet and drizzly for another 7-10 days and then warming up again to the temperature of the suns core recently. As an older fur I am struggling to adjust to the heat, as well as the changes in the temperature. We aren’t stopped from going out for a walk, it just means that the well placed kidney pounce on our dad is performed much earlier than he would like. We have been near and far in our walks, exploring the lanes and fields locally as well as taking road and rail trips to far flung destinations such as Carding Mill Valley and Ludlow. Somewhat unsurprisingly the two trips on the train have deposited us, with our parentals of course, in the pubs of Church Stretton and Ludlow. We didn’t complain and nor did they as the pint of welcome ale was consumed under the shade of a large oak tree in the Kings Arms pub garden at Church Stretton. For clarity we had walked around the town first, exploring the streets and alleys before being dragged kicking and screaming into the pub for a lunchtime swift half. The Blue Boar in Ludlow was also visited so the standard of the ale could be taste tested. Also The Old Street Tavern was checked out and found to be more than reasonable. As quiet and dignified furs both Lenny and I were welcomed into all the establishments.

We then found ourselves in the car for a trip to Bishops Castle. This is where our vets is located so we watched with much trepidation as we wound our merry way along the lanes toward the town. We needn’t have worried as we were discharged from our travel prison cells, wandered around the town and then found ourselves in the Three Tuns Inn, which is not the pub for the brewery. It is actually owned by Heineken who have recently closed it for “refurbishment”. I think the trips out in the car is a ploy to get Lenny more accustomed to travelling for the future.

For a trip that didn’t include a pub, we were put into the car early one morning and found ourselves pointing north. Some 30 minutes later we parked and the discharge of the beagles took place. We had arrived at Attingham Park, near Shrewsbury. Our friend Griff had told us about this place so we did a dry run to see where it is and what it was like. We will be going back with Griff as we liked it very much. It’s very dog friendly and we saw plenty of other dogs there.

It is run by the National Trust and allows dogs to walk about for their pleasure. Some places we all need to be on leads but it was great fun.

Anyway, closer to home we have been cheered up because the farmer has cut all the hay grass in the front field outside our house. Having left it for a few days to dry out (it was very dry thanks to the heat) the farmer rolled up the grass to make excellent obstacles for beagles to sit on. Lenny needed a bit of help but he enjoyed himself. We actually found out about the hay bales from Griff’s predecessor Charley and his brother fur, Boot. They were both pictured jumping from bale to bale, ears all flapping in joyous excitement.

Beyond these shenanigans it has been life as usual. Summer is taking her toll on us, making it too hot for a daytime bimble and meaning that we are forced to try and chill out during the day, all the while having fans pointed at us to try and keep us cooled. I have just got a cooling mat which means I can now snooze with my back legs on my flat bed, have my belly on the cooling mat and my head on the tiled floor. As an older fur I am struggling quite a lot with the heat so I am lucky that the parentals keep an eye on me to make sure I’m not overheating too much as well as make sure all my 14 beds are plumped up and ready. Sometimes my cooling mat is transferred to my sofa, although this is usually accompanied with excessive eye rolling from our staff.

Finally, for now, the vegetable and fruit garden is giving up its delights gradually. We have the first and second crops of potatoes, blackcurrants and soon to be more tomatoes and lettuce. Once the chillies, peppers, apples, pears, plums, onions, spring onions, cauliflowers, leeks and Brussel Sprouts have all done their growing I think we will need some new freezers. Hopefully this weather becomes somewhat cooler so Lenny and I can get some more adventures and shenanigans under our harnesses. Watch this space.

Times of reflection

This is a sad day. In fact make that a sad week or even month. As many of my readers will know, I have a wonderful group of friends around the world who I laugh, cry and be silly with. Recently however there have been more occasions upon which I have reflected on sad news arriving in my Twitter (for that is what it was when I joined) feed.

Over the last few weeks I have found out that so many of my friends have been making their final and longest journeys over the Rainbow Bridge. Since March we have lost Sweeney, Sunny, Remy, Dawson and Mischa and my good friend Harvey. Now, today I have seen the news that one of my oldest friends has made her final journey to the everlasting meadow. All are mourned, all are remembered and all are thought of in lighter and happier times. All are missed, particularly by their human guardians and assistants.

Today I saw that Curfew made her journey. She lived in Thailand with her dad. Curfew was one of the very first pals who greeted me with love, warmth and friendliness when I arrived in my new home in December 2013 and started my online presence soon thereafter. She was always getting up to silly things, eating naughty things and being loved by her dad and her friends around the world. Curfew showed us all some sides of her local culture that maybe people didn’t know about. She was always exploring and making new friends. Her dad would give her baths, which Curfew complained about, however it was very warm weather and I think she knew he always had her best interests at heart. A kind, warm friendly and loving pal, Curfew had some medical issues to deal with but these were encountered with stoicism and bravery. She was just over 15 years old when her body and mind told her that it was time for the final trip over the Rainbow Bridge to the everlasting meadow, where the sun always shines warmly upon our fur. Those who have made the journey before her will show the way and they will be ready to make her comfortable in the place where the squirrels run slowly.

I know that our times will come, all of us must make our journey and we will leave behind our humans who will be broken hearted but we always take a piece of our humans heart with us for safe keeping. Run free Curfew, Sunny, Remy, Dawson, Mischa Harvey… All of you have fulfilled your task down here and now you can rest, easy in the knowledge that you made humans feel love, fun, laughter and contentment.

Farewell but never goodbye.

I was fifteen on Sunday

I appear to have had something called a birthday last Sunday. I am told that I was fifteen years old which, in human years, makes me quite ancient, a little dusty and somewhat crumbly. Of course, being a stray, orphan or rejected fur, no one really knows when my actual birthday was so I am happy to get some sort of celebration.

As a result of my birthday I was loaded into my car prison cell and transported to an unknown destination. I was promised fun, plenty of shenanigans and plenty of belly rubs, head scritches and ear ruffles. Lenny came along for the ride and we looked quizzically at each other when loaded into the car. Down the lane, turn right, turn right again, follow the road for miles and miles and miles, turn left, turn right, drive along a motorway and then turn left along a narrow road. We could smell something familiar but couldn’t quite put our paw on what it may have been. As soon as we had parked up and the boot was opened we saw the most welcoming face of Sasha beagle who greeted us in typical fashion. This seemed to make a few people in the vicinity smile and laugh. Out of the car and onto our paws. Welcome to the Wirral Way the sign said. We had arrived at a place called Thurstaston and it looked really nice.

Once the humans had got their greetings completed, we led the way along the gravel path. I was immediately accused of pulling like a steam train and told to slow down due to me being of advanced years. I took no notice as we strolled along the path all the while avoiding the joggers, cyclists and other walkers coming toward us. After a while we turned right and headed along a small lane toward the river Dee. As we wandered out onto the beach I could see Wales on the opposite shore and I felt happy to see the land of my birth. Along the sandy beach we strolled (read pulled like a steam train). Lenny and Sasha walked nicely and they were very politely walking alongside each other, when Sasha wasn’t running ahead and having a lovely time.

Along the beach we went, sniffing and trying to eat any dead washed up sea creatures, all the while being watched by the parentals who were trying to ruin our fun. Up the steps and back toward the cafe. We knew what was coming next as the question was asked “Ice cream anyone?”. Us furs didn’t get any delicious looking ice cream. We had to sit and be good whilst the humans ate their delicious looking ice creams. After a while we were moved along again and found ourselves being loaded back into our travel crates for the return journey. We said our sad goodbyes and we really hope to see Sasha again soon.

We arrived home and were, for some reason, really rather tired. We managed to sleep until at least our evening dinner, which was a miracle for me, apparently. What a great day, in a lovely place, with brilliant weather and an ace way to celebrate my birthday. I am a very, very lucky lad.

There is life beyond Ludlow

As we yawned and stretched this morning we had no idea of the impending shenanigans we were about to perform. It started like most other Friday mornings and we strolled around the house trying to wake ourselves up to face the day to come. Somewhat strangely we were allowed out into the garden without being shackled to a parental. Lenny and I took the opportunity to scent the grass, eat the gifts left to us by visiting rabbits and get huge eye rolling from our watching staff. We then had a small breakfast and found ourselves each being strapped to a parent. We never made it past the car despite our efforts at trying to reach the field in front of our house. Duly loaded into our travel crates, we were taken down the lane, right, left, along the road for a good distance and then right, left, bear right, turn right and parked.

We had arrived at what I can only describe as a stately home in somewhere called Herefordshire. This was south of our previous southern travels and we had even crossed the county borders and, what’s more, we didn’t need our passports. As we leapt from the car we looked up to see a kind lady coming toward us saying “Welcome to Croft Castle, is this your first visit?”.. Lenny and I told her it was but we were told to sshh by our respective parentals. We went through the big archway in the wall and off we wandered (read pulled, puffed and strained on our harnesses) finding ourselves quickly in a very pretty walled garden full of flowers that Lenny clearly decided needed to be watered.

Once we had explored the walled garden we strolled along to, I think, the main house where the posh people used to live. There was a lovely view away to the south of the house the grounds swept down to a big lake.

We started to walk toward the lake but there were far too many sheep snacks lying about and we were quickly turned around. This was to become a bit of a theme unfortunately. Back past the house and along a small footpath we went, turning left at the end and through the gate. We were going to follow a “green” route which was deemed flat and easy to walk around. This was going to be fun thought Lenny and I at the same time. As we strolled along the fruit trees were protected by barriers and we assumed this was due to deer eating the bark. This was not the case as we saw the cows loom into view and our respective leads got severely shortened. Now I am afraid to admit that I have “history” with our bovine pals so as soon as they started to walk toward the people in front of us, it was deemed too dangerous for me to be walked amongst them. I would point out that I had already started to whine and whimper in anticipation of meeting some ruminants. Again we were hastily turned around and followed another path, this time through an outdoor play and discovery area for children to learn about nature and the environment.

Far too soon we found ourselves back in the vicinity of the car and our ride home from a morning of fun. Having arrived home we were pleased to see that our second breakfast was provided.

Croft Castle looks like a good place to visit. There are many walks through woods, fields, around lakes and up or down hills. Off track walks are mixed with strolls along gravel paths, there is plenty to see and do so I think we will return soon. Whether we will be mixing it with the cows, that’s another question entirely. Dogs are allowed in the majority of the grounds and the cafe, apart from the bit where the parentals pay for things. The big house is also off limits for us dogs which is fine as there are plenty of outside sniffs to keep us amused.

Apparently Beagle wrangling is a thing

I had no idea, I really didn’t. However we have had two exciting walks in two days and now my assistant has one arm longer than the other.

There we were yesterday as I woke up the assistants by being ill on the carpet. I had been worried by something on Wednesday and it affected me. It’s happened before and will probably happen again. I am a somewhat sensitive fella who is unable to relax, according to local sources.

In any case, Lenny and I were taken out onto the field in front of the house yesterday for a quick stroll about. We had seen car keys going into pockets which gave us the clue that we were soon to be exploring further afield. As we came back toward the house we found ourselves loaded into our travel crates and off down the lane we went. Turn right, then left, follow the road, off the slip road, over the road bumps and then right along a lane that a mouse would struggle to navigate but, somehow, we managed it in the car. We parked, the boot was opened and we let anyone who was in earshot, in Ludlow, know that we had arrived. Out and along the lane we went, toward the piggery. It should be noted at this juncture that there were a large number of puddles, muddy field entrances, muddy puddles and “field food” kindly left by the local wildlife. Lenny and I set about grazing on the snacks and our assistants set out trying to stop us. I was also trying to navigate through the dirtiest of the puddles whilst Lenny tried to avoid them. This was a battle of wills eventually won by the assistants who turned us around before we actually arrived at the piggery. This was very disappointing as we spied many, many snacks that we would have enjoyed very much. As a result of our disappointment I made it my job to try and get as filthy as possible on the return journey to Ludlow whilst Lenny made it his job to circumnavigate as many puddles as possible. He got praised, for some reason. I don’t think he’s a beagle sometimes. Anyway, we walked past the car and turned up the hill by the castle and then through the town where there was a very interesting craft market taking place. We strolled, investigated shop doorways and strolled some more until Lenny and I realised that our stomach alarm clocks were ringing very loudly. It was two hours past breakfast and this error had to be rectified. We encouraged our assistants to return to the car by trying to pull them back down the steep hill which, in turn, caused much grumbling from the top end of the leads. Having returned home we had breakfast and settled down for the rest of the day. Due to beagle wrangling there were no pictures of our shenanigans so you’ll have to take my word for our escapades.

Onto this morning and there was no strolling past the car. We were let out into the garden to run around like a couple of fools. We didn’t let anyone down. Duly harnessed up we were loaded again into the car for another adventure. I looked at Lenny who looked at me. Nope, no idea what was going on but two adventures in two days? We aren’t going to complain (too much). Down the lane, turn right, right again for about seven miles, left, across the crossroads and park. We had arrived in Church Stretton at the base camp of the Long Mynd. Unloaded from the boot we proceeded to try and pull our assistants whilst forgetting that we are connected to them and they are stronger than us. Through the gate and up the hill we went. The road snaked to the left, the sheep looked down at us from the bankside and we tried not to look at the sheer drop into Carding Mill Valley. As we climbed further we were back out into the sunshine and the views stretched away for miles both in front and behind us. Past Snailbeach and onward we went.

Past the Ratlinghope road sign and we could see the hill cresting in the distance. Lenny was beginning to flag now so I pushed on regardless. He has no stamina that brother of mine. We got to the next ridge and looked over in Wales. The views were brilliant and we turned round to look back across the top of the hill we had just conquered.

Lenny had avoided walking in puddles on the way up but he seemed intent on walking through the puddles, bracken and grassy paths on the descent. I was in no mood to stop him as I was trying to drag my assistant up and down the grassy banks, whilst whimpering at the sheep and ponies, looking over the vertiginous drop into Carding Mill Valley and making sure that she got a full body workout whilst wrangling me.

Arriving back at the car we noticed our stomach alarm clocks going off again and this time it was over two hours since breakfast should have been served.

We arrived home and had to suffer the ignominy of having a wet wash and wipe down before we could tuck into our breakfast, albeit very late. A quick run around the house followed by a session of bitey face led to an allegation of us being a couple of idiots and we were told to go and find our beds. Lenny went off to one of my snoozing beds so we had more bitey face to sort out that difficulty. Eventually we were able to settle into a routine of snoozing, snoring and circling. A good day was had by all. Well, me and Lenny enjoyed it. So there it is, I learned that beagle wrangling is a thing. Who knew?