Cabin Fever

We’re now almost two weeks into the work on our garden. Everything is progressing well  – despite the workers having to contend with frozen earth each morning then soft mud when it warms up – but Beanie & Biggles are getting a little stir crazy. In fact you could say they’re howling mad.

They’re getting plenty of long walks on the beach, and they’ve even had an off-lead run around with their pal Bundy, but none of this seems to be adequate compensation for the temporary loss of their garden. In a bid to ease their frustration we’ve cordoned off an area unaffected by the ongoing work, and we take them in there once the workmen have packed up for the day.

Still, it’s just not the same as having their full-sized playground on tap morning, noon and night. Yesterday Biggles tried to remedy this by forcing his way through the barrier, but his escape attempt was short-lived. He got to have a sniff and a little dig at the drainage trenches…

But Susan quickly got Beanie on lead and and like a moth drawn to the flame, Biggles just had to go taunt his sister. Once he got close enough he was nabbed – first by Beanie, then by Susan. Game over!

There’s at least a week to go, maybe two, before the work is complete. Until then I guess we’ll just have to accept that our two may be at each other’s throats from time to time.

There could be punchups..

And we’ll have to keep a close eye on the “corridor of doom”. This is the quiet, secluded part of our hall that Biggles uses for his most intensive frustration-fueled chewing sessions. Anything he gets, be it a sock, the mail, or the roller from our Paint Pod, ends up down there. Fortunately for us, Beanie is a tattletale and regularly exposes her brother’s naughty deeds with a distinctive “Mum! Dad! He’s at it again!” woof.

Recently though, poor Beanie has had to pay a high price for betrayal of the Bigglet. When he’s feeling especially naughty he grabs the bed in her basket and drags the whole thing (with Beanie still in it!!!!) down the corridor. I’ve tried to catch him doing this on video several times because it’s an impressive feat, but as soon as I poke my head into the hall he freezes, with his eyes fixed on mine and the bed still between his teeth. He stays like this – motionless – until I tell him to leave Beanie’s basket alone, which he does, but only until I turn my back. I don’t know what’s going on in his head; maybe he thinks that if he’s not moving, I can’t see him.

Beanie’s bed takes a walk down the Corridor of Doom once more

The look says it all: Brothers! What can you do with ’em!