Monkey is not the kind of boy to look a gift horse in the mouth, in fact I can’t recall a single occasion when he looked at any kind of horse in the mouth; he typically lowers his head, avoids eye contact and heads to the safer side of my legs when we encounter an equine. This is sensible; Monkeycide can happen at any time but it’s especially likely when there’s half a ton of metal-shoe-wearing monster in close proximity. At the same time, Monkey is well aware that as a Beagle he should always be ready to seize opportunities that could lead to food. These two guiding principles  – avoidance of danger and acquisition of food – can be and often are in opposition. That’s why, when I gave the Monkster his first ever taste of blueberries, I was unwittingly plunging him into a most terrible dilemma.

I had four blueberries in my hand, and I offered the first one to Poppy. She took it politely but without hesitation, and quickly set about eating it on the spot. I offered the next one to Monkey, who cautiously took it in his mouth, but then immediately trotted down off the deck to the patio below. Back in the day Beanie & Biggles would routinely sprint off to their own separate spots in the garden on receipt of a treat, so I figured the Monkster was doing the same.  It was only when I gave Poppy her second blueberry and offered Monkey his, that I saw signs of the internal conflict that was raging inside his big furry head.

Monkey had taken that first blueberry but hadn’t yet consumed it; having faced the daily threat of Monkeycide for over two years, he’s learned to treat all new food items with suspicion. Only when a potential consumable has been analysed using the most rigorous, evidence-based scientific methods can it be chewed and swallowed. (Note for any budding canine scientists: the currently preferred analytical methods involve throwing the item up in the air, pouncing on  it where it lands, and rollling on it several times. In some cases the need for laying down and woofing at the item may also be indicated).

Just as he was about to begin examination of his blueberry on the patio, I offered him another, and things suddenly got very complicated. Should he skip the scientific process and gulp down an untested food item, leaving him free to acquire the second one, or should he risk losing that second blueberry opportunity in order to carry out his tests with due diligence? He vacillated, looking to the blueberry in my hand, then to the one at his feet, then to Poppy who was downing her second blueberry with gusto and apparently without ill effects.

Monkey wrestled with his indecision a moment longer before arriving at a risky compromise: he would leave his existing blueberry uneaten and unguarded, run to me to receive the second one, and then hopefully get back to his temporary patio laboratory to analyse both the blueberries together. I could see each thought echoed on his expressive face and did my best to help by bringing the second blueberry to him. In short order he had both of them on the ground by his feet, but he’d never conducted an examination on two things in one session, and certainly not under time pressure; Poppy was heading down to him and no doubt intended to score his berries.

I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve had to intervene to prevent Biggles from losing out to Beanie, and Monkey seems to have the same level of gormlessness. I reached down, picked up both blueberries just before Poppy reached them, and put one of them straight into the path of Monkey’s chewing gear. He was a little surprised, but then he just chomped and swallowed, happily accepting the second one. I’m not saying that evidence based Beagle science doesn’t have its place,  but when there’s food at your feet and a hungry girly is closing in, sometimes it’s best just to shovel it into your gob and worry about Monkeycide later.

To finish, here are some more shots from the last couple of weeks:

Now that Beanie and Biggles are having chases on the other side of rainbow bridge and generally trashing the place, Monkey and Poppy are enjoying new freedoms in the house and on walks. For example until recently the humie bed was a complete no-go zone for them, and with good reason; if the day had a “y” in it, the bed most likely had a Beanie in it, and it was in nobody’s interests to disturb a napping Beanster. Compare and contrast that with this:

As you probably guessed that is Monkey on the bed (it was those big rear paws that gave it away, right?). He may be protecting his modesty by covering his upper body in the above picture, but he’s generally an above-the-duvet “au naturel” kind of a boy, while Poppy is very much a burrower.

Each morning Susan gets up first and releases the pups from their crates for their first breakfast (like Hobbits they have multiple breakfasts, an ongoing concession to Poppy’s epilepsy). A little while after that there’s a noisy stampede into the bedroom then both of them charge up Beanie’s old padded staircase and dive onto the bed. While Monkey sets about pinning my legs with his 18kgs, Poppy briefly smothers my face with hers then noses her way under the covers and curls up against my stomach. I find getting out of bed after this is really hard, partly because of the weighty Monkey lying across my legs, but mostly because it just feels so very comforting. I’ve never understood why some people have a Beagle but don’t let that Beagle into bed with them; they’re missing out on some top quality cuddle time. Having said that, they also miss out on waking up to “I’ve just come in from the garden and I’ve eaten a poo” tongue kisses, and that wonderful feeling of having a dog barf under the sheets right next to them, so I guess they may have a point.

Increasingly the pups are getting to use extending leads on country walks; they’re both enjoying this extra freedom but Monkey in particular is loving being able to head off the path and go for a little explore.

Interestingly the youngsters have actually got easier to manage when they’re walking on short leads by a road; I’d long suspected that Biggles was a bit of a wayward influence in such situations, and this is being borne out now he’s departed. Some of his more entertaining habits have been retained by Poppy however; as we get close to the house on the return from the short evening walk, she’ll often howl and charge for the door in anticipation of nosh. Unlike Biggles her howl is high pitched and comical, like a cross between Michael Jackson and Mickey Mouse, and at only 9.5kg her pulling power is far below that of even the old version of The Bigglet, but she gets full marks for trying.

I’m very aware that I keep comparing the youngsters to Beanie and Biggles. I do see echoes of Beanie & Biggles in them sometimes, but they’re very different little characters and that’s a good thing. As an article Susan found put it, nothing will ever fill the holes in our hearts left by Team Chaos, but Monkey and Poppy can maybe patch those holes and dig their own new ones right next to ’em. As a nod to this I’ve given the blog header and title a little makeover, but the blog started with Beanie and it’ll always be hers.

A few more shots:

It’s play time!

It’s hoof time!

It’s hump time!

And it’s also “throw a bit of garden debris around and pretend it’s alive” time!

Yep, Monkey may be our smartest Beagle…

..but he does have some weird ideas sometimes!

As I write this it’s around a fortnight since we lost Beanie & Biggles. It feels like all that happened either six months ago, or just yesterday, depending on what thoughts have entered our heads at any particular point in the day. We’ve got big canvases of our oldsters sitting over the youngster’s crates in our bedroom, and when I look at them, which I often do, I just smile at all the happy times they had and feel I’ve done grieving. Then just minutes later something can bring it all back without warning, and I realise I still haven’t fully got my head around the fact that they’ve gone. Most days I end up revisiting the decision to put Biggles to sleep, fearing that we went too early, or left it too late, but I always come to the same conclusion: we couldn’t have done things any other way. It’s much the same for Susan, and from all we’ve read, that’s just the way it works.

For all that, the truth is we got a very gentle introduction to dog mortality; we knew the clock was ticking down a long time before it stopped, and to some extent we’d already made a kind of peace with that. It must be really hard when the end comes as a complete surprise with no chance to prepare or say goodbye.

If the departure of Beanie & Biggles came as a shock to Poppy & Monkey, I’m happy to report that there are few signs of it. Monkey has become a bit more vocal, but that could be a reaction to the emotion that we struggled to contain, or some attempt to fill the power vacuum now that the senior pack members have stepped down, especially the grumpy little madam that said “Whaaarrrhhh!”. We’d seen advice that we should take extra care of the remaining pack members at this time, giving them reassurance and pleasant distractions to help them through anything they might be feeling. With this in mind we took them to Pets At Home to get some really engrossing chewables, and that’s where the second part of this post’s title comes in. During that shopping trip we saw indisputable proof that Monkey has learned to read.

As we walked past one of the cat-dedicated aisles, Monkey saw a yellow sign leaning against the shelves and studied it carefully. It had bold black lettering on it that said “WET FLOOR!”, and being the kind of Beagle who always wants to be helpful, he cocked his leg and did exactly what he was told, right where the sign was standing. Somewhat confusingly nobody said he was a good boy for that, but he got a big chunk of bovine trachea to chew on that evening so clearly he’d done well.

To finish, some recent photos of our pack of 4, pack of 3, and finally pack of 2.