Classic symptoms of being a teenager include:
- spending most of the morning in bed
- low impulse control and a lack of frustration tolerance
- an insatiable appetite
- recoiling from signs of affection from parents
- defiance and boundary-testing
Going by that list Beanie has spent her whole life behaving like a teenager, and now at the grand old age of 13, she really is one. On the morning of her birthday I had to pull the covers off our bed to get her up, and then – just as I was about to get her into her into the van to go on her special walk – she decided that she absolutely had to go into the garden for an extended toilet and sniff session. When we finally got going I heard complaints about the bed in her travel crate, and when we parked up there were more complaints that I hadn’t opened up the van fast enough. Happily the walk itself did meet the standard required by our spoiled little madam; I took her and The Bigglet on a figure-of-eight loop round the paths at Ayr Gorge to make it more of an event, and on the journey home I was rewarded by contented snores and dream woofs.
Ayr Gorge is a relatively short drive away from our home, but after months of strictly local walks necessitated by the covid situation it must have felt like trip to an exotic foreign land for the pups. Brand new sniffs at every turn, lots of nooks and crannies to investigate, and scarcely anyone else in sight.
Intense napping sessions normally follow the post-walk meal, but there’s no time for napping when individual birthday cakes have to be speed-swallowed and presents must be opened.
Two seconds later and only the crumbs remained (not that they remained for long)
Beanie is hardly short of toys, but when I saw this soft log loaded with squeaky squirrels I knew it would be a hit.
Apparently many dogs enjoy picking the squirrels out of the log. At first Beanie barely noticed them, being much more intent on sticking her snout right down the central hole of the log for a power-sniff. It was only later that her attention turned to the squirrels, at which point she paraded them round the room like the overgrown pup that she is.
As tradition demands (and Beagle law requires under the “if one puppy gets” rule) , Biggles also got his own unbirthday present, although I’m not sure it was on his personal wish-list.
I guess that’s what little boys get when they think it’s fun to leave their poos all over the patio and the deck, or when they get into bed and position their bum-hole right under my nose before letting rip.
I’m only joking of course; he actually got a couple of new filled hooves and spent most of the day happily munching on them all over the house. That said, if the patio pooping and gas leaks continue, I reckon I can find somewhere to put that cork.
To finish, here’s a few more shots of the birthday girl with her latest indulgence:
