garden – Dexter

Obsession

No, not some perfume which has probably been tested on beagles and then sold to unsuspecting people, but apparently something that applies to me.

I am a beagle, you may have noticed. Lenny is also a beagle and, again, this may have come to your attention. In that case, my parents want to know, how are we so different when it comes to certain small furry creatures which run along the fence at the back of my garden sending me into some delirium in the process. Of course I refer to squirrels. The grey variety that hitched a ride over from the North American continent and which now plague woods, forests and my garden so successfully. I would like to thank whoever it was that thought they would be a good idea, but I cannot do so.

They have been cavorting all day and I have been unable to control my whining and pacing in and out of different rooms to get a better view of them. As my view improves the whine goes up a decibel or ten, with associated baying when I cannot get to them. I move from a chair in the living room to the kitchen, back to the living room, off to a bedroom overlooking the garden, return to the kitchen, push the closed and locked door in the (vain) hope it will open and then stand in the living room once more noisily whining at whichever parent is closest. It would appear I am tormented by them (squirrels not parents). According to said parents we are not going to live in a cave whereby any and all views into the garden are shut out with curtains, so my view is panoramic around the garden. As soon as I am released into the garden to chase off the pesky critter it merely leaps into a nearby tree and pulls faces at me. I return to the warmth of the living room and watch as the squirrel descends from its lofty perch and continues its efforts are sending me doolally.

Then Lenny decides to wake up and see what’s going on. I cannot believe that he has missed the entire squirrel bothering episode because he’s been sleeping soundly. Does he not understand that these creatures are our mortal foe, they represent everything that makes a beagle obsessed with shaking it warmly by the neck.

These pictures were taken about four seconds apart. He’s just awoken from his nefarious slumber. I had been like this for the previous ten minutes, gently whimpering at the scoundrel running amok in my garden. I really don’t understand how he can be so relaxed about having squirrels in the garden. Is he truly a beagle? Maybe it’s me? I think I need to have a bit of a lie down in a darkened room.

Sad yet hopeful – part the first.

I know many people do a review of the year passing or passed. Where shall I start without using the C word? Ok, I shall take this month by month and try to explain why this year, which will pass into history very soon, was seemingly one to forget but also contained some little gems.

January.

It’s on its way everyone. 2020 was starting on a chilly and cool note although January was surprisingly dry for us in Chesham, where it is usually soggy, drizzly and really rather damp. Lenny is getting used to the incessant photography, however he has yet to master the art of the silly grin. I’m working on him so please bear with us.

February.

It’s arrived although not yet in huge numbers which we will soon suffer. Raffa went to the Rainbow Bridge and many, many people were very upset at the loss of a fine and wonderful friend. The days were getting a bit longer, the mornings were misty and made Lenny look thoughtful. I spent much of the first few weeks wondering why pals aren’t here any more, why we have to go to the Rainbow Bridge and generally having a good think to myself.

March.

It’s here. Just before the quarantine took place fully I had the chance to travel briefly into London. I was intent on finishing the postcard for Raffa. She had missed the Beefeater and I thought it was only right that I get the picture for her. Then it struck and we were all locked away for a while. People panic bought toilet roll, bleach and pasta (I do not need that recipe) and we made sure we didnt make contact with anyone in the hope that this might slow down the transmission rate.

April.

Flowers bloomed in my garden. Lenny and I helped to water them as the sun grew warmer and the colours burst back to life. Out of quarantine at the end of April but it made no difference. We were living like hermits and avoiding as much contact with other people as possible.

May.

Now it was beginning to get a bit boring. We still got our walks. We still got to arooo in the garden. We still got to chase each other around the garden playing bitey face. However we were a little restricted on where we could go for walks outside the garden. Fortunately we were able to walk in places that not many others knew about so we often had the lanes to ourselves.

June.

We were still under restrictions so had to behave ourselves in and out of the garden. It had the advantage though of showing Lenny that I didn’t want to be bitten all the time and often it was nice to just chill out instead of running at 100 mph around the garden. We became more accommodating of one another as the restrictions wore on. It got warm and we became lazy or lazier depending on who you listen to. Early in the month we learned that another friend, Gracie, also passed to the Rainbow Bridge. This was another time for sadness and reflection as she was a good friend.

Here ends todays missive. The final part will be published soon. I am not sure if the year got any better to be honest. However you’ll just have to wait to find out.

The eyes have it

I am a beagle, you may have noticed. This will be my eighth Christmas with my parents so I have had plenty of practice in extracting love and food from them. Or so you would think. Beagles are renowned for having bottomless stomachs, hollow legs and probably the most expressive and irresistible eye contact. I am no different and I am certainly trying to teach Lenny to be equally as persuasive with his peepers.

I’ve been a bit unwell recently and there have been days and nights where a number of trips to the garden have been needed to avoid indoor accidents with significant clean up required. The parents were concerned over the food I was eating and wondering if it was one thing or a combination so dad was taken with taking me outside in the garden whenever I needed to. He felt a bit foolish when, on the only occasion I wasn’t attached to the lead at 03.30, I forgot what I was supposed to be in the garden for and started baying at the top of my lungs at all the lovely scents. Seeing him chase me around trying to quieten me was amusing.

Metabolism. That’s a long word to stomach.

The worst thing was having all treats removed from my diet. The best thing was that I went onto a chicken, rice and potato diet. I love chicken. Anyway the guilty food source appears to have been located and removed from my diet. It seems simply that as I am getting older my metabolism is changing and I cannot accommodate certain foods in the same way as when I was younger. Also I am not quite sure how the parents have managed it, however I am being fed delicious chicken at the same time as Lenny is being fed his normal food. He does cast the odd envious look at my food bowl but I ignore him as my face is usually busy and he cannot get his muzzle near my food. Anyway dad usually stands guard when we are eating so Lenny will be growled at if he makes a sideways movement toward me. Having said all of that Lenny eats his food like he’s never going to get any more. He inhales his food. He’s not quite up to Labrador speed of consumption but he’s nimble even for a beagle. I haven’t had any emergency trips to the garden over the past few days so it seems I have settled down again. Lenny seems to have become more aware of my desire to exist in a quieter place sometimes. We still practice our bitey face shenanigans but we break off and then shake at each other more readily.

The change of food on my part as well as my beagleness have allowed me to practice the use of “the eyes” on the parents. They are aware of the visual pleading tendencies. They have also cheated by telling one another that Lenny and I have had breakfast, treats, dinner or supper biscuits. This is grossly unfair as we cannot take advantage of one parent over the other.

I mean, who could resist these eyes?

The A-Z of things I can do

Just to complete the series I thought I would look at some of the things that I am able to do.

A. Arooo loudly. This is probably the most obvious comment ever made.

B. Bitey face. I still excel at squabbling with Lenny in the house and garden.

C. Chase squirrels in my garden. They know not to settle for too long.

D. Destroy toys. Not as much these days, but I am still able to lobotomise them.

E. Enjoy my life. Even with my brother biting me, I still have a good life.

F. Find and eat field food quicker than I can get told off.

G. Go on days out and holiday. I did this before quarantine and will do it again soon.

H. Hike my parents across the fields and through mud. This is a speciality of beagles.

I. Injure myself through excessive shenanigans. I am currently injury free, thankfully.

J. Jump onto the garden table and out of the dental clutches of my vampiric brother.

K. Kick dad when I’m sleeping on the sofa. A fun activity.

L. Laugh. I make my parents smile. I can be an idiot sometimes apparently.

M. Make dad give me secret treats just by looking at him in a doleful way.

N. Nice sitting when treats may be involved.

O. Open mums heart just by looking at her sometimes.

P. Pretend to ignore Lenny’s antagonism, and then pounce on him.

Q. Question if Lenny is a vampire, a giraffe or just a pest. I suspect a mixture.

R. Run around the garden. See also (A) apparently.

S. Sleep more often, and snore more loudly. Allegedly it comes with age.

T. Tongue Out Tuesday. I have an extensive tongue which makes this quite easy.

U. Upset my parents when I don’t feel very well or look old and tired.

V. Views. Enjoy what I see whilst strolling around the lanes and fields near my home.

W. Wee on Lenny’s head if he’s not looking where he’s going on our walks.

X. e(x)pect my food to be provided on time. Is this too much to ask?

Y. Yawn. I seem to do this far more often now. Age? who knows.

Z. Zooms around the garden with or without Lenny.

I can smell a squirrel over a mile away.

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).

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 was 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.