A few weeks back, some sixty-six million years after dinosaurs became extinct and slightly before yours truly commenced penning this narrative, I rehomed a dog. The hound in question a four your old beagle who, for the purposes of the narrative (and because it’s her name), I shall call Bella.
With details of the rehoming backstory irrelevant to the yarn, I will skip over my motives for relocating Bells to chez Strachan. Other than revealing I thought the move would improve my mental health and physical fitness. The latter certainly proving true from participation in three dog walks a day.
The jury is currently out on the mental health benefits. The unexpected commencement of her season a mere two weeks into the move making it a significantly more challenging settling in period than hoped. The canine’s desire to dry hump my once pristine sofa cushions creating upholstery devastation. If couches could take out restraining orders, I’m pretty sure the tormented settee would shortly be serving my frisky beagle.
Due to a marking at the top of her right hind leg which looks like a seagull in flight, I have nicknamed my new furry buddy ‘Beagle with the Seagull’. Not the greatest pseudonym ever creative, but, if nothing else, it’ll make a good title heading for this piece.
Mercifully, I no longer occasionally respond “Beadle.” when asked the breed of my dog. A reply sporadically bringing enquiries like “Has she got a smaller front paw the others?!” … If you’re too young to remember late tv presenter/prankster Jeremy Beadle you won’t get that gag unless you google ‘Jeremy Beadle Hand’.
Miss Bella (yes, she’s avoided matrimony like the plague, so is a Miss not a Ms), is an enchanting creature. Majestic of look, energetic of nature and loving of soul; although sadly as I write the inquisitive hound’s recall isn’t the best.
Footnote – Incidentally, when I say she has poor recall I am referring to her ability at responding to orders when unleashed; not that her memory for historical events needs improving… For instance, I have no idea whether she can recall dates for the Battle of Hastings, Live Aid, or when Henry VIII was on the throne. Mind you, if I find out she does I’ll be sure to add her to my pub quiz team.
At this juncture I’d like to point out the first seven paragraphs were penned during a recent Tenerife vacation. Yours truly perched on a balcony overlooking the third green of the Golf Del Sur course. My enchanting beagle back home in the UK under the careful watch of Sarah’s daughters Kayleigh and Katelan, along with their partners. For the uninitiated Sarah is my partner in crime, confidante and swear word coach.
It is now a week on from writing those original seven paragraphs, and the terra firma under our feet now belongs to Blighty. Return from the Canary Isles seeing a serener hound. The girl’s response improvement to commands, in conjunction with conclusion of her season, meaning I’ve come home to a calmer canine. A furry friend who, courtesy of Kayleigh’s husbands training, can now recant when the Battle of Hastings and Live Aid took place, along with when Henry VIII was on the throne… Watch out other pub quiz teams, I say!
Footnote – Liam is an intelligent fella whose innovative genius is highly sought within the corridors of high-tech industries. His latest project is the development infra-red popcorn, affording cinema/theatre goers easier retrieval of corn kernel spillage… Although I might have just imagined that!
I’ve not tested this out yet, but apparently while I was away Kayleigh showed Bella how to empty the dishwasher and garbage bin. Bearing in mind she’s not managed to successfully train Liam how to undertake those tasks in five years of cohabiting, I was mightily impressed.
Sarah’s youngest daughter Katelan also contributed towards Bella’s behavioural improvement. Utilising further dog training techniques to correct the hound’s occasional lapses into mischief. Correctional titbits such as curbing Bella’s excessive excitement when near kids; partly aided by caging Bells mealtime and during her giddier episodes.
With Bella being in season, Katelan’s partner Simon had to shelf plans of taking the adorable canine to work with him. An agricultural machinery engineer (Simon, not Bells), he concluded having an ‘on heat’ hound in a yard containing unneutered male dogs and Huddersfield Town fans would be foolhardy!
Anyhow, back in West Yorkshire, I’ve settled back into my routine of three daily dog walks, along with becoming triggered by the amount of litter young scratter’s dump on the park’s ground. This despite having six garbage bins within the relatively short vicinity… I’d just like those disrespectful little shits to know, like their penises, their actions are not big and not clever… Unless of course your penis has an honours degree in nuclear science from Oxbridge!… In which case it’s just not big!
After a thirty-minute walk in an autumnal rain shower, following a towel dry the ‘Beagle with the Seagull’ Laid currently lays beside me on the sofa. Beneath her gentle snores I can hear what sounds like ethereal mutterings of “Divorced, beheaded, died; divorced, beheaded, survived”… It looks like Liam also taught her the fate of each of Henry VIII’s wives… Blimey, is there no end to that lads genius!
