Joy and Rapture

The Nidd Gorge: rootling heaven

What a relief to go for a civilised walk in proper beagle country.  You can keep beaches: what they have in space, they lack in interest.  To me, a beach is akin to a one scented perfume.  What's the point?  I imagine that beaches appeal to clean freaks.

Auntie Gill is a clean freak and so are the daddies.  Their lives are consumed with banishing human smells and drenching themselves in artificial ones.  They should be careful about what or who they might attract. Being able to scent is a very good way of sussing someone out.  It's no good trying to lie to a beagle about what you like to eat.

I know the signs when this purging of odours will happen.  Auntie Gill screws her nose up in distaste and then directs a baleful gaze in our direction.  'I smell of dog,' she announces, 'and so does this kitchen!'  I suppose I should be offended, but I am more puzzled and amused.  I mean, why wouldn't she smell of dog?  We lick her a lot and try to sit on her and we smell of human! (despite all the scent concealers she wears, it's still there - just! It's only because I'm a beagle that I can detect it.)

Anyway, then she rampages through the house with the vacuum cleaner and chemicals, before going for a shower.  She emerges and says, ' I feel clean now!'  She smells of chemicals.  We did like the body butter she used, but we were in trouble when we tried to lick it off, so she stopped using it.

In beagle culture, it is a great honour to carry the scent of another beagle.  It means that they are Brothers-in-Scent and from that day onwards, will always be able to find each other.  It would be no use waiting for Auntie Gill to sniff me out, if I was in trouble.  She couldn't smell a pork pie in her own fridge .  Of course, I will always be able to find her.  I prefer odour-interest.