A life in the day of a Beagle

Apparently I am obsessed with squirrels. I have no idea what this means. According to the people who make my dinner and get taken for a walk by myself and Lenny, I am forever walking between vantage points in the kitchen and dining room so I can spot when the grey furry invaders dare to enter my garden. In order to prove their point, one of my parents has watched me almost continuously today. If he hasn’t, it certainly feels like it. So, here begins the story of one day in the life of a Beagle (Harrier).

Where is it?

I woke up, got dressed and was immediately introduced to the overnight scents in the garden. About forty five minutes later, the scent of the first breakfast wafted upon my nostrils and I decided I would grace Lenny and the parents with my presence. It was somewhat of an unwanted interruption from squirrel scenting but sometimes needs must and all that. Having eaten my porridge and kibble (it’s actually quite nice) and then the obligatory marrow bone biscuit, Lenny and I were harnessed and off we go for our daily constitutional. Lenny went off with Dad separately today so I was off to pull mum around the fields. We reconvened at home and my baying at deer was duly reported to dad. Second breakfast was taken in the kitchen and we are supposed to go and lie down to sleep off our shenanigans. Herein lies the first problematic area with the request to snooze. Lenny being the goodie four paws goes and lays down and is quickly snoozing off his exertions. On the other paw, I always get this feeling that there is an invader in my garden. My favourite window pane has plenty of nose art on it. As I cannot see all my garden from a single vantage point I have to move around to the other window so I can see transversely towards the trees. It is at this point that certain parents want to know why I cannot just lay down and go to sleep like a certain younger brother of mine? And how was I to know that dad had a breakfast bowl full of cornflakes (other cereals are available, kids) when I decided to “stand under his feet”. Anyway, there wasn’t any movement in the garden so I retired to my bed on the sofa. Twenty minutes later I thought I might have heard something in the garden which would need investigation. I managed to wake up Lenny as well which meant there was double the quantity of parental eye rolling at our ability to stand in the wrong place at the wrong time. Use of “the” eyes is thus required to allow our release into the garden and we find ourselves running up and down the garden in pursuit of a squirrel that might have been there, some twenty or thirty minutes before. After a further thirty minutes or so, we decide that it is time to scrounge some training treats from a pliant human so we stand dolefully and quietly at the door waiting for our paws to be wiped upon entry to the house. Well, Lenny was quiet whilst I aroooed at the top of my lungs just out or dads reach. Sadly I didnt see the squirty water bottle with which I squirted very expertly by dad. We retire to our beds once more and peace reigns. Suddenly its lunchtime which can only mean one thing. Off my bed and to my favourite window pane, I see a squirrel, arooo and whine constantly until I am released and I can chase it out of the orchard. I am tricked once more, this time by the scent of my most favourite snack of beef jerky. I am extremely obedient when beef jerky makes an appearance. Ok, I must admit that lunchtime is often when I can snooze for more than twenty minutes or so. The squirrel obsession count was five or six wanderings to the favourite window pane and five sessions of “annoying” whining. All before lunch, I was quite proud. Not sure where they get this obsession idea from though.

I can hear a squirrel.

On to the afternoon and it is clearly time for the windows to be checked, both vantage points assessed and ensure that the garden is clear. There might have been a squirrel so this means I have to patrol and bay at the top of my lungs for forty minutes. Back in from the garden, I lay down in mums office and then I hear a noise that may be within a five mile radius. This means it may be in the garden, which means it may be a squirrel. Dad has to let us out again and then gets the blame when we arooo loudly and mum is trying to concentrate. This may have happened twice more before our dinner was served, somewhat late as usual. A quick snooze and I am back to the window pane for squirrel bothering and whining until I am released again. This time the garden patrol is only around twenty minutes so I can retire to my bed for a short time before Lenny and I are both released pre-teatime for our standard run around. Today it was a bit different as by the time we were ready to return to the house, dad had closed the curtains which means that my sight lines are closed off and I have little choice but to admit defeat for the remainder of daylight hours.

Wake up Lenny!

So ends the story of the day in my tormented life. I don’t think I am obsessed with squirrels, despite needing to chase them or at least try to spot them, every twenty minutes or so during daylight hours. Sadly Lenny doesn’t seem to share my love for all things squirrel shaped as he just does the bare minimum in chasing them off. Then he’s off to chew a stick or trying to annoy me with unplanned bitey face. I remain a bit worried by his apparent lack of concern for the squirrel invaders.

Hardwired hound

I am aware that I haven’t blogged for some time so I want to rectify that omission on my part. There is no excuse on my part however I have been busy. In any case, I can now dictate my latest missive for publication.

What can I blog about?

Lenny and I have had a hectic few weeks. I blame squirrels. I also blame the earth for spinning and orbiting the sun. Finally I blame the seasons, specifically one of them namely Autumn. Maybe I should try to explain.

As a beagle harrier I am hardwired to chase small furry creatures that dare to enter my line of sight. Recently there has been a plethora of creatures present on our walks. On our walk through hill and vale we are restrained so any sighting of an unsuitable creature bounding across the road or field ahead of us means we are only able to advance to the end of the industrial strength leads. Worse still they have been invading my garden in the search for food for the forthcoming winter season. We have apple trees which should provide us with tasty and nutritious fruit for eating in their natural state as well as being baked in pies and tarts. This is in an ideal world and doesn’t account for the activities of the local squirrel, magpie and blackbird populations. I say local but it seems to attract all and sundry from around a ten mile radius. If it was only the magpies or blackbirds, the world would be a sane and reasonable place. Sadly, with the addition of squirrels, the facade of calmness is removed and replaced instead with frantic door scratching, constant whimpering and persistent marching from one door to another so I can get a better view of the pesky creatures whilst they cavort in my garden, eat apples and then try to bury their winter food in the grass. Being a beagle harrier with expert vision up to a mile or so, it is extremely difficult for me to miss seeing them in the garden. I have to constantly remind the parents that I should be chasing these furry little chaps and I need to be let out. At this point I should also comment that my little brother Lenny doesn’t help the situation much. He will fly out of the door with me and chase the squirrels up and down the garden. Once the invaders have been repelled he will wander nonchalantly up to the orchard and pick an apple off and start to eat it. I need not describe the look of sheer horror and abject disappointment that I feel.

Having said all the above, Lenny and I actually caught a squirrel last week and were about to play tug of war until we were foiled by our parents. We were strolling around the patio having a sniff when all of a sudden, from the left side, this squirrel wandered towards us. We were stunned at his bravado. Did he not realise who we are? Did he not understand that we are hardwired to “attend” to small furry chaps such as himself. In any case it didn’t matter as within a second his head was in my mouth and I was trying to cuddle him with my teeth. Lenny ran around cheering me on whilst asking to pay tug with the squirrel. My fun was short-lived as a dad shaped object advanced quickly upon our shenanigans and I was told in no uncertain terms to “DROP IT”. I followed the instructions but Lenny then picked the squirrel up and started to practice his dental lobotomy on the furry little chap. We knew we were in big trouble when mum appeared on the scene and the fun was over. Dad still had to remove the very scared, and somewhat drool covered, squirrel from the garden. Fortunately he was wearing gloves as the squirrel bit the finger of the glove to show his gratitude at being saved from a certain doom. Dad had the foresight to loosen his finger from the glove so he wasn’t bitten.

Come on Dex, lets play tug.

So there you have it. I blame the seasons, the earth spinning and orbiting the sun and the fact that Autumn is upon us. If it wasn’t for all of these factors combining there wouldn’t be as many squirrels in my garden and I wouldn’t be driven to absolute distraction by them. That’s my story and I am sticking by it.

Wotcha Dex.

I do think that Lenny looks at me sometimes and wonders why. Just why?

We live in strange times

Dad went to my nans funeral on Friday. Lenny and I knew there was something not right as dad seemed a little apprehensive on our morning walk. We had a nice walk and dad told us what good lads we are, but there seemed to be something in his voice that told me things were a little different. We didn’t mess about too much on our walk or when we got back home. We got a big hug and a kiss on the head each before he left.

He said everything went ok on Friday afternoon, kind of as you would expect a funeral to go, really. Due to the current restrictions on people attending services, there were only 26 people so it felt a little more personal than when grandad passed away and there were about 50-60 people there. He did a talk and said to people about the link with the past being cut, abruptly and leaving you with regrets that you didn’t say what you wanted to say. When he got home, dad told us that he loved us very much and we got another round of tickles. I might have scored a couple of gravy bones too, whilst Lenny was walking around the garden but he doesn’t have to know, does he?

Then on Saturday we woke up, had our first half of breakfast, went on our walk, returned to our second half of breakfast and proceeded to settle in for a nice snooze. Suddenly, knock knock on the window and Raffa Beagles mum is standing there waving furiously at us. What a lovely surprise for Lenny and I. We greeted auntie J in normal beagle fashion and then proceeded to play hide and seek in the garden. She lost as we are quite good at finding people.

You go that way Lenny

After an hour or so we calmed sufficiently to roll over and snooze whilst the humans had a chat and caught up on life. We haven’t seen auntie J since early December 2019 and then were very saddened when poor sweet Raffa went to the Rainbow Bridge on 4th February this year. We had been saving up our leg leans and licks for her since then. It was a lovely sunny day so we went into the garden and showed everyone how fast we can run circuits around the flowerbeds and across the patio. I think they were impressed. We were just settling in for a long laze and looking forward to tickles when auntie J said she had to leave so we gave her a cheery beagle send off. Then it was off to sleep.

Strange days clearly follow one another. From sadness and reflection to a feeling of joy seeing friends in the space of 24 hours. Take life as it comes everyone as you won’t know what is around the corner. As Raffa said, never give up when faced with challenges and live life to the full.

We only get one shot at this.

The joy of life

I was going to call this article “The Joy of Dex” but that may attract a different type of reader.

I’ve been watching my brother recently and noticed that he has settled so much faster than I did when I arrived. I am forever on the go, I need to see whats happening, when its happening and why. If someone goes out of the room, I will be right there dutifully trotting along behind. It has come to my ever increasing notice that Lenny just stays on his bed, lazily opens one eye to survey the scene and then falls back to sleep again.

Chalk and cheese we are referred to. The rare times upon which he will move swiftly usually involve food or going into the garden to run around like hounds possessed.

On our walks around the local lanes Lenny has started to find his own trails more often although we still sniff the same scents now and again. When we look at him, he is trotting along with his tongue hanging out, happiness writ large over his cheery little face.

Today I was in the office with mum whilst she worked away and dad made dinner. Lenny strolled to the door and asked politely if he could go outside, so dad obliged. Within five minutes there was a quiet bump on the door and Lenny was playing happily with a small unripe apple that had fallen from one of the trees in my small orchard. He picked up the apple, tossed it onto the patio and play bowed with it. He was so engrossed with such a small thing that brought him so much joy that he hardly noticed dad watching him.

Apparently he is a little heart melter just like me. We may be the same breed but we are so different in our nature. He is the epitome of a rescued dog living his best life with love and security showered upon him.

Freedom. Of sorts.

I have been very busy with one thing and another. As a result I have failed to let you know about some shenanigans that took place last Saturday and which were wholly unexpected. Sometimes they are the best ones so I shall seek to remedy my omission now.

We had heard mum and dad last week hoping that the weather at the weekend would stay reasonable, however we couldn’t quite find out what they needed good weather for. We were out on our paws early on Saturday last week which was a bit strange but a walk is a walk after all, whatever time it was taken. Upon our return we had a quick breakfast and found ourselves bundled unceremoniously into the car and off we set. To where, we knew not. Around the motorway and down the road, around the roundabout and across the cross roads. Up hill and down hill we went, on our merry way. It was only when we pulled across the driveway of grandads house that I realised where we were. Maybe the fact that I slept most of the way there didn’t help with my navigation skills. Lenny seemed eager to see this new place, despite him being here in December last year.

Having been released from our travel crates we went to explore the local playing fields and then the inside of grandads house. We remembered from our previous visit the best places to play which included but weren’t restricted to standing at the top of the stairs and baying at each other followed by running up and down the stairs. According to mum and dad this isn’t acceptable behaviour. Who knew? Anyway, we got a bit bored after a few hours of playing indoor snout jousting so it was decided we would get back in the car and go to the beach. Fortunately it wasn’t too far away so we only had to put up with dads driving for a short time. When we arrived at the beach it was windy. Very windy. I knew how windy it was as my ears were flapping behind my head like a world war one fighter ace. Tally ho, off we go.

Great ear flips Lenny. Pardon?

We strolled with the wind at our backs and watched as the sea crashed upon the shingle of the beach. Lenny and I were each harnessed to a heavy parent so we wouldn’t float away, which was quite possible. We went up to the edge of the waves and I stupidly forgot that seawater tastes awful. Lenny just laughed at me. We wandered along smelling all the new scents for a mile or so and then were told we would return to the car which sounded very boring as there were still many scents. However this is where the fun really started as we were now walking into the wind which was whipping up the sea spray and blowing it all over our faces and fur, even into our eyes. Mum was the only person to forget her sunglasses so she suffered quite a bit with “sea spray eyes”. Fortunately we could walk behind some shrubs which had established as a windbreak along a section of the beach and thus gave us some respite. When we got back to the car we were all covered in a salty film of seawater spray. Lenny and I were able to shake most of it from our fur and then lick ourselves clean. The humans accompanying us on our adventure were not quite as fortunate. A short drive later and we were back at grandads house. We ate our dinner and then for some unknown reason felt very tired, almost as if we had just had an adventure along the beach, all the while pulling and scenting.

Wonder what time we get dinner around here?

We knew our adventure was over when we were returned to the car for the homeward journey.

Snooze.

We slept most of Sunday, our brains and paws overworked with sights and scents. We were dreaming of another escapade and hoping it would come soon.

It was a day of freedom of sorts. We had been able to do shenanigans for the first time in a while and it felt good.

The frailty of life

I am going to let my dad write on my blog today as, in the early hours of this morning, my nanny passed away in hospital. She made her longest journey to the Rainbow Bridge, as it were. I loved my nanny, she was the best.

Watching the person who gave you life, who then preserved and progressed your life, gradually deteriorate is a strange and slightly surreal experience. Seeing my father shortly after he had died was somewhat of shock to the system and I suppose the only redeeming factor to his death was that he did not apparently suffer toward the end and indeed the end came quickly.

Conversely I, along with my siblings, have watched as our mother at first slowly and then more recently deteriorate markedly to what is sadly the inevitable conclusion. Looking at the person who gave you life, now being relieved of pain by medical means at the very end of her days is a thought provoking thing. It is said that as people near the end of their life, they seem to become a shell of their former selves and this seems to ring true in respect of my mother. Seeing her in the last seven days she seemed at once to have no cares in the world, yet at other times had her life etched upon her face. We were assured that she passed away in peace and was not in pain. This provides a modicum of solace to us all.

My mother and father had five children in eleven years. They watched as one of their children died at far too young an age. The family was raised in the age when predominantly dad went to work and mum kept the house, along with the children, in line until they flew the nest. In addition she managed numerous jobs for around fifty of her eighty three years on this earth.

Born prior to World War two commencing she was evacuated and then returned to her home in south London at the time of the Blitz. She was one of four children (the others were boys) so she would have been used to the general disorganisation of life that conflict brings to any scenario as well as having many children in the same house at the same time.

Malta

She met my father who then served his National Service in Malta between 1958-1960 and they returned to the UK to set up home and start their lives together. Along with my father they worked hard to ensure that the children had a roof over their heads and that they would grow up with a good moral compass and a clear understanding of right and wrong. Maybe I messed about along the way with some of their efforts at showing us the good from bad, but overall their teachings have succeeded I hope. In her later life, as her health failed to a constantly greater extent she relied more and more upon my father until his untimely demise in December 2017. Dad had been, to all intents, an unpaid and on site member of the wider care team that looked after her needs all day and night. At the point of his death both of my sisters stepped up admirably and assisted mum where they were able to do so. Without their help, she truly would have been lost. Problems with mobility as well as various further health scares and the odd fall meant there would be a move from their house of some 50 years to a flat where it was easier for her to get about. Subsequent visits to hospital for various ailments ended with her being looked after in a nursing home for the final 8 months of her life. It seems to have been a fairly painful end to a life lived fully by someone who felt that her task was to try and ensure her children were level headed, reasonable and didn’t get into trouble. My mother, along with my father, achieved these goals.

Best mum in the world

The inevitability of the end doesn’t dampen the feeling of emptiness in your stomach, the knowledge that you will no longer be able to call and tell of good and bad news, to be able to sit down, have a cup of tea and chat about whatever comes to mind. The contact with the past is broken, abruptly and permanently. However she said she doesn’t want sadness, foreboding and a sense of navel gazing. To her life is to be lived. We get one chance to get it as right as you can so we have to take it.

Thank you mum, for giving me and my siblings that chance.

I love you nanny. Fly free.

Thunderbolts and lightning

I think it’s safe to say that I do not like this hot weather. It is safer to say that the subsequent thunder and lightning leading to the break in the weather is frightening me rather too much. I can always tell that there is an impending clap of thunder or flash of lightning. I seek the safety of somewhere behind the sofa or try to dig a hole through the rug in the hallway. I sit shivering and shaking whilst everyone else in the house goes about their daily business. This includes Lenny who seems utterly impervious to the impending doom of the next boom of thunder or crash of lightning.

Ugh, too hot

We’ve had some tropical weather recently and we aren’t used to it. The daytime temperatures have soared and the rain has stayed away from our little corner of the country. Our walks have taken place earlier than usual in the morning so that the sun is not fully blazing down upon us. We have ventured along lanes and byways, through fields and woods to enjoy our walk and try to stay as cool as possible. We’ve even been lucky enough to go for a paddle at the end of our daily walk so we can cool our paws off in the chilly chalk stream which still flows close to our house. Normally the stream has dried up by this point in the year however, we had larger than usual rainfall throughout Winter and Spring so the aquifer has been replenished fully. The days have been spent trying to stay out of the sun which saps our energy so quickly. Even our standard garden sport of snout jousting has had to take a back seat to lazing on a cool tiled floor with fans blowing cold air all over our fur. We cannot sweat in the same manner as humans so we cannot get rid of the excess body heat. Our tongue and paws being cooled down in the river helps significantly.

What’s a trip hazard?

The tropical weather has continued at night where it hasn’t dropped below 20 deg C for the past five or six nights. Lenny has been sleeping on top of his bed as it is cooler and often times I am sleeping on the wooden floor instead of being in my warm fluffy bed next to a radiator. We have been told we are “trip hazards” whatever one of those is, as one or the other parent decides they want to go for a night time wander. I am pleased to report that the hot and sultry conditions broke somewhat last evening and we had a more comfortable day today when it only reached the dizzy heights of 30 deg C in the direct sunlight, according to our thermometer in the garden. However the weather breaking brings more fear and trepidation for me. The sonic activity seems to adversely affect me and my initial thought is to try and find somewhere safe to hide. I wish I was able to feel the same level of confidence that I see in the parents and Lenny when they stroll about keeping themselves busy. Lenny and I maybe the same breed but we are poles apart when it comes to thunder and lightning. Anyway this current period of high heat seems to have passed now so I should be able to revert to type.

Ow, gerrof

Bitey face can continue in earnest.

Dr Jekyll and Mr Lenny

Wake up wake up, it’s gone 6 am and the squirrels are running amok in the grounds. Ok, they’re not actually running amok but mum and dad didn’t know and we could have stopped a squirrel invasion. I got Lenny to leap on dads kidneys so he had no excuse to go back to sleep. Up and at them, come on.

We were soon in our harnesses and exploring the lanes and byways around Pednor, with the sun on our fur and our scent receptors close to the ground. As we went along the lane, the rabbits scattered for their burrows and the squirrels hid in their trees, sadly out of our reach. Upon reaching the dingley dell on the corner of the road, we decided we would take the parents along Herberts Hole as there was a better chance of getting some good baying off our chests with the critters that live in the hedgerows. Birds, squirrels and rodents made their escape as we wandered along, having great fun. Apparently I sound like one of those steam trains you see and hear in old films, when I am on the trail of prey. Anyway, we got most of the way down the track and mum decided she had to return home to do something called ‘work’. Nope, I have no idea what it is either. So, we turned around and headed home.

Back at home and after breakfast we were allowed out into the garden again as the sun was still shining and there were various horticultural chores that needed to be started and finished. It was such a peaceful morning with Lenny and I wandering around, sniffing, lazing on the grass and playing the odd bit of snout jousting. He seemed to be quite calm as we lay near each other, thinking about where we could drag mum and dad tomorrow morning.

What a lovely day for some nefarious activity

Then it started. The glint in his eye, the slight wry smile, the malevolent sideways glance to see if I was concentrating. He woofed to me that he was off to chew a stick so off he toddled. You could almost see the little halo above his head, he looked so innocent. My canine senses told me there was malice afoot however and I made myself ready to repel boarders. I was right, quick as a flash he was on to me, teeth glinting in the sun, eyes reddened from his transformation into a devil of the night and his paws standing on my ears whilst his teeth went to work on my face. He had pinned me down ready to inflict the final chomp on my jugular vein. However he didn’t account for my saviour, in the shape of a dad shaped object advancing up the garden to prise us apart and save my ears and neck from looking like a kitchen colander. “Off! Leave him alone!” called dad. And suddenly Lenny was running googley eyed around the garden arooing at his perceived victory over me. I got ear tickles whilst dad made sure I hadn’t been perforated and then he told me to “stop encouraging Lenny”. Forget the perforated ears, they were shocked and stunned ears. As I looked past dad, I saw Lenny down the garden once again wandering around quietly eating revolting stuff and looking for worm casts to roll in. How could he be so different so quickly?

Ow ow, get off. Hee hee.

I had held him off, just, and I live to tell the tale. Innocent, my paw.

I shall chew a stick and await my next victim.

Still love him though. He is my brother after all.

Booster time

It all started very normally today.

We jumped on dad at six to make sure he couldn’t sleep in. We watched as mum woke up, gave us a tickle and a kiss on the head, and then disappeared to put the kettle on. After all this excitement we wandered out into the garden for a spot of squirrel bothering and returned to the kitchen door to find dad wandering around making tea and generally mumbling to himself. Nothing different thus far.

Lenny went out with dad and I went out with mum. I am going for shorter walks over the last few days as I have been limping a little on my front left paw. The consensus is that I have strained my wrist through shenanigans in the garden, thanks to Lenny. Anyway, I am ok but I only need a shorter walk of three miles or so. We bumped into Lenny and dad whilst we were out on patrol, although they walked on further than we did. I had an inkling from listening to mum and dad that there was something different today. I was to prove to be correct.

When they returned Lenny had the usual silly grin on his face as he had eaten fox and bird droppings and was quite proud that dad hadn’t seen him. However, dad had seen him and wasn’t impressed. Nor was dad quick enough to retrieve said items from Lenny’s teeth which seems to be why Lenny was so happy with himself. We had some breakfast and then went off for some snoozing. After a while we heard dad on the phone saying “Yes he’s fine, we cannot think of anything that he is suffering from, no illness or injury, he just seems really healthy and happy”. This could only mean one thing, and I was keeping my muzzle shut so it would be a nice surprise for Lenny. I knew I was right when the harness made a reappearance and Lenny was duly clipped up and taken out of the door for another walk. I need to hand over to Lenny at this point as he can tell you what happened next.

Wotcha everyone. I had a great walk around Pednor this morning and then I got harnessed up again for another walk. Sadly it was with dad, but you cant win them all, right? We wandered off up the hill and I was being cajoled to keep a reasonable pace. It was almost as if there was an appointment which needed to be kept. What could it be? Where could I be going? Anyway, up the hill with all the traffic whizzing past us way too fast and then a little diversion through the woods at the top of the road. I wanted to smell squirrels and chase rabbits but dad decided otherwise. Come on he said, we’ve got somewhere to go. Into the town and down a small road I wandered, eventually finding myself in a carpark outside a building. There was a bench with a crate on it, and a lead tied around a bike rack. Dad was asked to attach me to the lead and a very nice lady in a blue uniform came out to greet us.

“Hello” she said. “You must be Lenny” and I got a head scratch. Dad reminded her that I sometimes snatch at food so “if they are going to distract me for injections, do it with an open hand”. Hang on, injections, what is this place. I was whisked inside and saw dad outside waiting for me. I was weighed (13.1 kilos) and then prodded, poked squeezed around the ribs, had my teeth checked and to cap it all had an injection. I don’t know where I was jabbed as I was being distracted by some tasty food. I will tell Dex that it was a huge javelin and I was really brave and didn’t squeal. Apparently he squeals and wriggles if he knows there is a tiny needle coming his way. Before I knew it, I was back outside and the vet told dad “He was so polite when we distracted him, you’ve clearly been working on this at home” Dad said thank you and he was pleased I was a good boy. I don’t think he’d seen the fees for it yet!

So there I was, strolling back through the town and thence through the woods. We detoured down a nice quiet road with some very nice houses with lovely big gardens which were probably full of squirrels. We didn’t stop! As we got closer to home I was flagging but perked up when I saw the house. In the front door, and I had so much to tell Dex. He was aghast and agog at my bravery when challenged by the huge javelin sized needle. I need to hand you back to Dex, sorry.

When he arrived back Lenny told me about the massive spear that he had braved at the vets. I told him I had known where he was going and he said that he had to return as this was only the first booster and he needs another. I think he thinks its going to be another fun trip. To celebrate, we whizzed around the garden and then collapsed into heaps in our beds. He was snoring as his head touched the side of his (my old) bed.

Ssshhh, sleepy pupster

He’s very brave is Lenny. I would have squealed and wriggled at the sight of the needle.

He must be expawsted

I think I will let him sleep it off. He’s had some adventures today, walked eight miles, had breakfast, dinner, two training sessions and been to the vets. Phew, I need to go and lie down as I am exhausted thinking about it all.

Love, life and Loss

As many may know I am on Twitter and I am blessed to have many accounts that follow me on there. When I joined it was, predominantly, to obtain some guidance from other beagle owners as to traits, behaviour and general information that I could relate to my parents about looking after me. From a few chats here and there in the beginning, it has thankfully blossomed and I can count many good friends and confidantes amongst the furs and people I talk to.

One of the first friends I “met” on there is Seb who isnt a Beagle but a Border Terrier (BT) who was kind and thoughtful when we communicated and I was after some information. He is part of the BT Posse, a group of like minded Border Terriers and their owners who, like the BeagleBug Club, look out for each other when things are good, bad, sad or someone is just having a bad day. As a Beagle, I was allowed to become an honorary member of the BT Posse, and I am extremely proud to be associated with them. The owners are very much along the same lines as the beagle owners that I know, in that you can ask them something and generally you will get a true and honest response. They don’t do politics, they don’t do trolling, they don’t do abuse and they really are a band of like minded people and dogs who want to get on with one another and help each other out.

One man and his faithful dog.

Some will tell you that Twitter is just a place for trolls and nasty spiteful people, who’s intention is to be harmful. If you look deeply enough you will inevitably find those accounts, where it is just politics and spiteful or racist rhetoric. Equally, if you look for the friendship that can be found within other “communities” on there, you can find the gentle and friendly guidance and companionship of people who seek to be pleasant.

Today Seb went to the Rainbow Bridge. He had just celebrated his sixteenth birthday. He let all his pals know what was going to happen and asked them “not to be sad but to remember he has been so lucky to have an amazing life, he has met so many wonderful friends and he has two people who have put him first and loved him more than anything”. Everything I seek to achieve is contained within this sentence.

Rest easy Seb.

Run free Seb, and rest easy. Farewell Sir. We shall meet again one day but in the meantime, shine brightly in the night sky. You are, and will be, sorely missed by many.