Meg’s Knowledge

Meg’s vocabulary—the words she can understand—is pretty extensive now. She will be lying, apparently asleep, and if I say ‘walk’ or ‘woods’ or ‘going out’ she will leap up and run to the garage, ready to get in the car, worried I might forget her. She also understands the significance of certain actions. I have bad eyesight, but dislike wearing glasses in the house so I only tend to wear glasses if I am going out. If Meg sees me putting on my glasses, she runs to the door, ready to come into the garden (and bark at my poultry).

Meg also understands routines—and has her own ones (which I do not understand). When I sit at the kitchen table with food, Meg goes to the door and asks to be let out. I don’t know why, but it’s convenient as I prefer her to be in the garden when I’m eating. Perhaps she doesn’t like my table manners. Or maybe she knows she will have unsupervised play in the garden because I am occupied. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter what time it is, if I make a coffee mid-morning and sit at the table, Meg goes straight to the door. Very strange.

Meg understands that when she is annoying, I tend to secure her somewhere—either the utility room or her crate. Meg prefers her crate (which is in the kitchen). If she is being too bouncy, and I open the utility room door for a ‘time-out,’ Meg will run into her crate and look at me. The message is clear—‘You can lock me in here, please don’t put me in the utility room!’

11/9/2025

Meg will soon be 2 years old. Husband tells me this is wonderful, as everyone has told him that dogs of 2 years are perfect pets, calm and obedient. I have told Meg. We are expecting big changes in a few days…

Two Years Old

16/9/2025

Well, despite our dreams, Meg did not suddenly become calm and obedient on her 2^nd birthday. Online, most of her siblings are now qualified police or army working dogs, leaping from helicopters in enemy territory or chasing criminals. Meg chases cars. And my poultry. Neither are allowed.

I would have said that Meg has never stolen food, but I am now not so sure. I have never seen her steal food, and I will eat near her without her stealing (although I would not leave her alone in a room with a roast chicken nearby). However, I do have a pretty china bowl that I sometimes keep chocolates and sweets in, left on a coffee table, as a welcoming treat to offer visitors. Last week I filled it with mint humbugs. Yesterday I found a wrapper, and a spat-out mint humbug at the top of the stairs. Now, I am not saying it was Meg—my daughter has been staying, and I know for a fact my husband dislikes mint humbugs—but I am suspicious. I am also now wondering whether she has helped herself to other sweets that I have left out. Perhaps I should be more careful.

As I said, Meg still loves to chase cars. Any car that drives up the lane next to the garden, Meg zooms alongside. She gets to quite an impressive speed. I’m not sure if she’s trying to catch it, or if it’s a race. We now have a clear track worn into the lawn, through the trees, with a heap of mud at the far end where she slams on the brakes and skids to a stop before she hits the fence. It’s good exercise for her, and good house-security for us (because everyone sees we have a scary guard dog loose in the garden). I am trying to be positive. Not quite on a par with leaping from helicopters or chasing criminals in terms of usefulness perhaps.

23/9/2025

Mostly nice day with Meg, just pootling round the house. When I pop out—for a run or to the shops—I leave her loose in the house, and so far all has survived. I even left some slippers in the hallway, and they were untouched when I returned. (Slippers were always a favourite thing to grab and run away with and chew to pieces when she was younger.) We are making progress.

There are still things to improve though. Usually we have lovely walks each day in the woods, and Meg’s behaviour is excellent—we even get comments from other dog owners about how obedient she is (little do they know!) She does look obedient in the woods (and only in the woods). For example, this week I saw a man hurriedly putting his dog on the lead, so I assumed his dog was reactive to other dogs. I called Meg to my side, and made her sit, away from the footpath. I didn’t put her on the lead, Meg sat, completely focussed on the stick she was waiting for me to throw while the man and his dog (now barking death-threats at Meg—the dog, not the man) passed us. When they were safely passed, I threw the stick for Meg and we continued our walk. Wonderful, she had no reaction whatsoever to the dog.

I did the same thing yesterday when we encountered a horse being walked through the woods. I moved off the pathway, told Meg to sit, and we waited while the horse passed. Meg did notice the horse, she glanced at it a couple of times and each time I said ‘Stick!’ and waved the stick in the air, and she refocussed on that and ignored the horse. Marvellous.

But (there had to be a ‘but’ didn’t there!) when Meg is tense, she has a very dangerous habit of leaping unexpectedly for the stick I am holding or picking up, and if I wasn’t wearing tough leather gloves, she would definitely remove a finger. Her jaws are incredibly strong. Several things can make Meg tense. If it’s a windy day (like young children—it was always a challenge teaching infants on stormy days). Or if another dog has approached her and threatened her—she never retaliates, but I notice that afterwards she is extra intense, and will often grab at the stick before it’s thrown.

I am trying to break her of this habit (before I lose a finger) and therefore I try to make her ‘wait’ when I pick up a stick, and I growl at her if she grabs a stick from my hand, and I refuse to throw it. Today this happened, and we had a standoff.

Meg had previously been accosted by a nasty little spaniel (it always seems to be spaniels, and they usually have dopey owners in my experience). This spaniel ran up to Meg, who was carrying a log (of course) and it barked and snarled, right in her face. Meg dropped the log (unfortunately not on the spaniel!) and stood there, looking worried. I called her, threw a stick, we passed unharmed. (The dopey owner just looked worried, shouted ineffectually at her dog but made no attempt to put the vicious beast on a lead.) Anyway, as we walked away, Meg was noticeably tense, and charged with extra energy at sticks, completely fixed on them. Perhaps I should have stopped throwing them, but I thought it would help to get rid of some adrenaline if she charged around for a while. [see PS below.]

Suddenly Meg leaped up, and grabbed the stick in my hand. This is not allowed. I told her ‘No!’ and held on to my end. Meg stood there, trying to pull the stick from my hand, refusing to release it. I realised this had become a new game, a battle of wills, and she is stronger than me. So I let go of the stick, told her to give it, and refused to move. Meg sat down, but held the stick, clearly waiting for me to resume the tug-of-war. I turned away, giving her no attention, not looking at her, not moving. Meg did not put down the stick. We stayed like this for 6 minutes. I timed it. 6 minutes is a very long time to stand still, ignoring your dog, in the middle of the woods. Thankfully no one passed us or they would have thought I was mad. After 6 minutes, Meg very carefully placed the stick on the ground.

I instantly praised her, and threw a different stick for her to chase. When she was safely away, I picked up the stick we had argued over. It is now my stick. I carried it back to the car. We went home. Not entirely sure what I will do with the stick now. (If I’m honest, I do not really want it—but don’t tell Meg!)

In terms of dog training, I have absolutely no idea whether this is what you are supposed to do with strong-minded dogs. I certainly have never seen anyone else having a standoff with their dog in the woods. I guess I will know in a few more years. Thanks for reading. Take care.
Love, Anne x

[PS. After speaking to my ‘animal psychology’ friend, I now understand these events a little better. Basically, like a small child, dogs have layers of excitement/tension, which build on each other until the dog (or small child) is unable to listen to even the most basic of instructions. Therefore, after encountering nasty aggressive Spaniel in the woods, I should not have then thrown a stick for Meg ‘to release some tension.’ What I was actually doing was building on her tension, releasing even more adrenaline. Instead, we should have walked calmly for a few minutes, letting all the tension dissipate, resetting back to ‘boring.’]