Over the last few months – against all our initial expectations – Beanie seemed to be the most accepting of our new generation of pups, leaving Biggles as the grumpy old loner. More recently however, Beanie has made it very clear that she’s had enough of Monkey’s SID projects (Spherical Ideas Department). His puppy license has either expired or been rendered null and void and he’s been on the receiving end of some forthright telling-offs. Despite this, the moment he sees Beanie it’s obvious that some very unwise ideas are forming in his head; his tail goes bolt upright and trembles, and silly expression comes over his face that says: “I think I can do it and run away fast enough before Beanie bites my bum. Yep, I’m gonna do it!”. We have no idea what the “it” is, but we don’t want to find out, and more particularly we don’t want Beanie to find out, so we’ve re-tightened up our supervision of Monkey both in and out of the house, and taken steps to ensure that Beanie can have guaranteed Monkey and Poppy-free periods in the day.
As part of this we’ve partitioned the deck at the back of our house so that Beanie (and/or Biggles) can come out and snoop on the proceedings, safe in the knowledge that neither of the pups can molest them. We jokingly refer to this arrangement as Beanie’s Penthouse Suite and private veranda, as she accesses the deck through our second, “posh” lounge.
Early indications are that this is restoring Beanie’s patience with Monkey, but in the meantime, Biggles has suddenly started bonding with Poppy and Monkey. It’s very common to see the three of them out in front, shoulder-to-shoulder on walks, and in the garden Biggles has shown signs of wanting to join in with some of Poppy and Monkey’s activities. He’s even turned up with them when it’s their midday crate time, although that might have more to do with the treat they get on entering their crates than any blossoming friendship.
All this may make it seem like Beanie is becoming the pack outsider, but in reality I think it’s just underlining her status as leader; when the throne is yours you don’t want or need to go fraternising with the plebs.
In other news, Monkey has been getting better at cocking his leg, but he lacks confidence in the manoeuvre and only does it when he thinks no-one is watching him. Oddly he has no such reticence when it comes to letting Mr Pinky out of his furry sleeping bag, no matter how inappropriate the timing.
Beanie has now made so many pilgrimages to the grave of the unknown seal on the beach that she permanently smells of rotted carcass. She may have hoped that her perma-stink might protect her from soppy cuddles, but it hasn’t worked. Come to think of it, it may the fact that she smells soooo good that’s been attracting Monkey and encouraging Mr Pinky out into the opening. I guess too much of anything – even essence of departed seal – can be a bad thing.
Finally, Poppy is starting to find her voice. She’s howled at the postman and a sweet old lady who was wearing a bright red raincoat. Unfortunately for Poppy, her voice is entirely in line with her diminutive stature. She needs to get some lessons from Beanie on how to deliver the perfect howl of death, because the current howl of a slightly irritated gerbil isn’t impressing anyone.
