Two things combined to make this Christmas a particularly smelly one, and they both happened on the day before Christmas Eve.
The pups were due one of their regular beach runs and even though I knew the roads would be packed with distracted, frustrated shoppers, I bundled the furry duo into their travel crates and set off to the beach park. Almost as soon as I got underway the local radio station warned of long queues on all roads leading to the town’s superstores, so I took the most circuitous route I could think of and was very pleased with myself when I arrived at the beach car park without any major hold-ups. I was somewhat less pleased when I lifted the tailgate and realized that I’d somehow forgotten to bring the pups’ leads. I stood for a moment to consider my options while both Beanie and Biggles pawed impatiently at their crates, desperate to get started on their pre-Christmas adventure.
I didn’t want to abort the run, but going back home to get the leads wouldn’t be a good idea; I’d been lucky with the traffic once, but twice? That would be pushing it. I thought about how I’ve been able to increase the off-lead portion of our runs in recent years. Could it be that Beanie and Biggles were now ready for the ultimate test – a full hour of freedom on the beach, just like normal doggies? I looked at the two twitching black noses before me, still in their crates, and I knew the answer was a resounding “NO!”. But there might be a compromise. Bits of rope are dumped on the beach by the tide all the time, and some way up the beach regular walkers have started a collection of some the more interesting items of flotsam and jetsam: oars, partial canoe hulls, road signs and traffic cones – even a headless Buzz Lightyear figure. It’s kind of an ever-changing piece of modern art, and again I’ve often seen old, worn-out rope used to lash some of the items together. A plan started to form: I could take Beanie and Biggles out for the first part of the run off-lead, gambling that by the time we reached the turning point (which is usually the point where Beagle compliance becomes an issue) I’d have found a couple of lengths of rope to use as makeshift leads for the return journey. I checked the little running pouch I always wear around my waist; in it were four strips of cooked chicken and three bone-shaped doggy biccies. Anything is possible if you have enough chicken and biccies. That’s a fact. I looked back at beanie and Biggles and said to them “Alright pups! We’re going to do this, but you’ve got to stay close to your Dad, OK?”
You might be expecting the rest of this tale to involve hours spent searching for missing Beagles on a cold beach, with the light rapidly failing, but if so, you’re wrong. Shame on you for assuming that our two furry Candidates for The Chaos Party would misbehave so badly! For the most part Beanie and Biggles stayed close to me, and I did find enough rope to fashion two post-apocalyptic, gnarly Pirates-of-the-Carribean style leads to get Beanie and Biggles safely back to their crates in the car. The only problem was that shortly before I found the rope, the dynamic duo found the rotten carcass of some unrecognizable animal. What followed was the most frenzied bit of Beagle breakdancing I’ve seen all year. More than once I dragged stinky pup#1 out of the dead zone and turned my attention to even stinkier pup#2, only to see pup#1 go right back in a for another rolling session. By the time I’d got them both away from the corpse and secured them with rope, the stench coming off them was overpowering, and remember that’s coming from someone who after twelve years with Beagles is mostly noseblind. I took my shoes off and dragged Team Stink into the sea, doing my best to wash away all that pong. It helped, but not much. We got caught in traffic on the way home and when we finally made it back to the house, the three of us were very wet, very cold and very, very smelly.
“Not to worry” I thought, “I can have a nice hot bath and hose down the pups in the shower”. It was at this very moment that our 16 year old combi-boiler retired from the hot water service industry. That relaxing, warming bath didn’t happen and it won’t until we can get a replacement boiler fitted in the New Year. Fortunately the part of the boiler that heats the radiators has stayed functional, and thanks to prior camping adventures we do have a portable shower of sorts (think 5 litre pump-action weed sprayer with a shower head). So after all that we did get warm and mostly clean, but this Christmas has still been considerably more fragrant than usual, and not in a good way.
Even smelly pups are entitled to special doggy-safe mince pies
And presents!
Including a brand new extra-large fabric box to hold Beanie & Biggle’s vast toy collection
Time for a good rummage!
