Biggles has recently gained some additional brain cells. We’re not quite sure where he got them from; Susan thinks that maybe they fell out of Beanie’s head and into his during a robust play session.
Whatever their origin, they’ve granted Biggles some new abilities. Firstly, he’s become a master tactician. When gets into a chase with Beanie in our garden, he heads straight for the rear of the shed and lies in wait for Beanie. When she arrives, he tricks her into taking the long way round and quickly legs it round the other side.
Suckered her again!
Eat my dust, Beanie!
Admittedly he sometimes cuts it a bit too close and things don’t work out, but his strategy is sound.
It’s a royal pain in the bum if you don’t factor in Beanie’s remarkable acceleration
His other new talent is more of a problem for us – he can now open all the sliding-door cupboards in our house. It started with a few accidental openings caused by rough and tumbles with Beanie, but then he figured out how to do it at will. On the evening the breakthrough came, I heard some unexpected chewing sounds and found the Bigglet down at the far end of the corridor with a Paint Pod roller in his mouth. I retrieved it and shut the cupboard, but then two minutes later worrying noises summoned me and there he was again, indulging his obsession with the Paint Pod. This repeated three more times before I put an end to it by stapling heavy duty velcro onto the door and cupboard frame. Of course I only protected one of the cupboards, so shortly afterward I found him and Beanie lying on our spare duvet together, busy chewing off all the washing care labels. Yep, he’d figured out that his technique would carry over to the other cupboard. The next day, Biggles seemed to have disappeared from the house for a couple of minutes, until I spotted that the sliding wardrobe door in our bedroom was slightly open. Opening it fully I saw Biggles sitting among Susan’s shoes with a “Yes? Can I help you?” look on his face. I predict that our local Tesco is going to run out of velcro in the near future.
It doesn’t stop there. The other night he opened the door to the kitchen and managed to get his jaws round some very spicy leftovers. His bottom paid the price the next day (ever heard a Beagle singing Ring of Fire?) but I somehow doubt that it’s put him off. All this extra thinking has taken it’s toll on the Biggly boy though. And on Beanie. And on us.
Finally, on today’s tea time walk, Biggles’ new found intelligence somehow prompted a discussion about whether our Beagles truly understand spoken commands. I feel that they do, and decided to put it to the test. As we walked along, I said “stamp collection” in the same voice I use to call them over for a treat, and neither of them responded. Then I said “treat time” and they trotted over expectantly. It was all very encouraging, but then I blew it, because for some reason the spectacularly random “Return trip to Aberystwyth” brought them running. Still, Biggles can now open doors and cupboards, and that’s good enough for me.
I remember when William learned how to open the fridge door! Fortunately we caught him just as he had his head inside,his mouth open and ready for action. He got such a telling off he never tried again :)
Sadly we lost our beloved baby to cancer earlier this year. We’re still grieving and we’ll never be able to replace him, but a spell of fostering recently has helped up realise that there are other dogs in the world who are just as sweet natured as he was and need our help.
We’ll be checking out the Beagle Welfare Rehoming list soon to find another baby to love :)
I’m so sorry to hear that Fiona. It sounds as if William had a wonderful life with you. I imagine rescuing a dog would feel less like ‘replacing’ William than a new puppy. I think I could view that as taking care of a dog in the way that you’d hope someone somewhere would take care of William. Please do keep us updated.