Beagles, Beagling, Beagled.

What a marvellous night for a moor run! Hound and his mistress in synergy, enjoying the finest of the August weather combined with the finest of Yorkshire views. Spectacular!

Back in the real world, I took Hound off his lead and he...


ran...




away.

Oh well, I thought, it's been a good four years, enjoyable in places, frustrating in others, you've had a good innings to say that you're a complete **** most of the time and seem to have been born with a death wish, maybe I'll do myself a favour and get a nice little Labrador, who has Beagles as pets anyway...

Hound comes belting back over the hill from the land of Far, Far Away, interrupting my musings, and I noose him like an overzealous hangman. We round the next corner and I am greeted by the object of his flight of fancy. Hello, Humphrey! When you're a Beagle owner, bumping into another Beagle is super special, so this made my night. (I told Humphreys owner all about Blipfoto, I hope he finds this blip!)

All is forgiven, Hound!