The deafening sound of silence

It’s me, Lenny. I have been allowed to write a guest blog for Dexter today. Maybe I should explain why.

We went out separately this morning for our walks. I went along the lanes to the west of the village, whilst Dex went up the shortest road then returned to wander along through the village. He was with mum and she said that he had the biggest grin on his face as they strolled along the road. I think he thought they were going under the big road and then around some of his favourite fields which have cows, sheep and, happily for Dex, squirrels aplenty in them. Anyway they didn’t quite make it to the fields as mum swerved suddenly and went up the steps to the vets. It appears the my older brother (who’s not my biological brother but I still love him) had an early morning appointment. After discussing the various things the vet was going to do, it was explained that Dex doesn’t like needles and anything in his scruff or neck would be a titanic struggle of epic proportions. In actually fact in our previous house, he went to see the vet and when she went to give him his annual injection he wriggled so much she stabbed herself. Oh well, at least we know she wont get rabies. Anyway, I digress. Mum left him with the vets as it appears that he needed his teeth cleaned and they were just the people to do it.

I returned home from my walk with dad and I was completely unaware of the parental chicanery which had unfolded. So, paws wiped, collar changed and off I go expecting to be accosted by Dex as I try to make my way to the water bowl. Nothing! No Dex, no greeting and no noisy fighting. I checked every room in the house and he definitely wasn’t here. I had my breakfast and went around the house again to check that he wasn’t hiding and waiting to pounce on me. No, sadly he was nowhere to be seen. I decided it was a good opportunity to go and sleep in one of his favourite places. However the silence was deafening. After a while I got a bit bored so patrolled the garden, chased a squirrel and got some biscuits for my efforts. However Dex was still missing and I was missing him. After lunch I had a snooze in Dex’s chair and then dad decided I could play with some toys. Usually we don’t play with toys as I have a guarding instinct and it ends up with a bit of a squabble between Dex and I. A noisy squabble!

A cheeky monkey beagle chewing a stuffed monkey.

Suddenly ring ring! Hello. Oh he’s ok and we can collect him. Phew. It appears he had a wobbly tooth near the back which has been taken out and the remaining teeth are now gleaming clean. He was a perfect patient and even had some soft food whilst he was at the vets. He’s going back for a check up on Monday afternoon.

When he arrived back in the house I had to be held back from greeting him too wildly. He’s home and snoozing. I have to “take it easy” whatever that means. We are being watched constantly so we don’t get up to mischief. As if we would do shenanigans in the house.

Where am I? Who am I?

It’s nice to have him back. I really didn’t like the sound of silence in the house without him. It was horrible. Tomorrow we will hopefully be able to run around arooing at each other and generally be silly. The defining sound of silence should be gone.

Well, that was all a bit unnecessary

Firstly Happy New Year to one and all. I have been fairly quiet over the festive period as there is quite a bit of activity going on in the house and I have needed to be good. As some may know, this can be challenging for a beagle who lives with a vampiric younger sibling. I may have been good at times.

Walks have been taken with sights and smells duly appreciated. It’s been drab and dreary here since New Year arrived. We have mainly walked the lanes as the rain has turned our field walks into a muddy quagmire in places and our assistants complain of slipping and sliding all over the place when trying to control us. They need four paw drive. The number of people out walking, running and walking their dogs has increased significantly so our walks haven’t been as solitary as we would have liked but you can’t have everything, can you?

Isn’t this a little early for a walk?

This morning started like the previous two or three. The parents were lazing about until Lenny planted an excellently placed pounce on dads kidneys. After our first half breakfast we were away through the lanes sniffing rabbits and squirrels in the hedgerows and walking through the filthiest puddles we could find. Having returned home, we had our second half breakfast and then we thought it was time for our usual session of bitey face followed by some snoozing, all interspersed with regular trips to the garden to check on the Sciurus position. As I returned from my fourth foray into the garden I found myself harnessed up again and attached to my dad who told me to be good, whilst putting a bag of gravy bones in his pocket. I had suspicious ears. We marched quickly out of the house and soon found I was in the car park at the vets. This definitely wasn’t in the script for a lazy Sunday. In we go and I am trapped in the consulting room whilst dad then explains to the vet that, on a few occasions, I have been a little less than solid in certain areas over the past six weeks or so and my diet has been changed to make it blander and more accommodating to my bodily functions. I looked at dad to inform him that I had not authorised this conversation to take place, but he just ignored me. Typical. All the embarrassing details are laid bare and I haven’t seen these gravy bones in his pocket yet. The vet thinks I may have some colitis which is normal for a “beagle of my age” and that the bland diet is a good idea so it should be continued for a week or two. Again I didn’t authorise this change to my food.

Then to add insult to injury the vet noticed that my annual boosters were due about this time. Cue the stethoscope and being investigated in my ears, mouth and round the back. I am apparently in good shape for a “beagle of my age” and it was then that the gravy bones miraculously appeared from dads pocket. My suspicions were exceeded by my craving for said gravy flavoured snack and I missed the vet wander around behind me with a needle to ensure I had my boosters for another year. The liberty of it all. The shame wasn’t finished though as I was marched over to the scales and dad told the receptionist that I was fourteen kilos. How could he? In public? In a loud voice? Whilst rolling his eyes? The only redeeming factor was that dad had to pay for my travails so this put a slight spring back into my step for the return home.

Quick session of bitey face with Lenny, followed by my dinner and I now find myself snoozing on the sofa whilst allegedly kicking mum in my sleep. I have no idea what she means.

I wonder if I will get extra sympathy gravy bones?

And apparently Lenny missed me whilst I wasn’t here. Nice to know someone loves me.

Where is Dex?