It was Juno’s third birthday on the 16th June. Where does the time go? It feels like only yesterday she was cute and I could move her around with one hand… now it takes two hands and a lot of muscle to get her to do anything.

I feel like I post a lot of pictures of Juno both here and on Instagram, however, I won’t apologise and I’d suggest you avert your eyes if you don’t like it because it’s going to happen now and I can guarantee it will happen again, and again, and again.

Here are a few choice snap shots of Juno and a couple of her sisters and one of her brothers… and her mum and dad.


This is Juno’s mama; Lola.
Juno with her mama – her brother, Shadow, is wandering off already!
This is Shadow and his little sister Millie, who is so similar to Juno it’s the cutest.
It was a hot day!!
Our little Juno.
Juno’s sister, Nell.






This is a thing; try to take a picture of a beagle… get it’s butt.
Juno’s poppa with the stick; Nuckie




running beagle


Juno’s mama having a roll in the grass!

We have managed to get the dogs together once a year so far and I’m looking forward to making it a tradition for a long time! Sadly not all the dogs could make it but it was still a lovely day out with the pack!

Without getting all soppy I have wanted a dog for my entire life. I’ve always been more of an animal person than a people person – I understand most animals and feel like I’m practically Dr Doolittle. For real, though.

Juno and I communicate on a level that often needs no words. We have this unspeakable language, which is all about the eyes. Yes, you heard me. Or saw me… Sometimes when Juno wants something she’ll use her paws to show me. Hitting a door with a violent shove that would land a human in jail for anti social behaviour. This works well for her but the eye language we have is even more special. We both tell each other where we want the other to go; she looks at me and then to the seat I’m sitting in which is her telling me she wants to sit where I am and, so, wants me to leave. I look at her and then at the ground; telling her she’s a dog and must act like one.

We’ll even have silent fights where we just stare at each other, non verbally accusing the other of doing something we didn’t enjoy; me the fact she’d just tried to shove me out of my seat and her for the fact I’d tried to cuddle her and she didn’t enjoy it. At all.

Yes, the joys of having a dog – something I’ve dreamt about since being a child… only to have picked the dog who doesn’t like being stroked, would rather drink the water from your glass rather than her bowl and the one who would rather eat cherry tomatoes than dog biscuits.

And yet I’m glad I found her.

Soppy blog over… until next year.


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