I did not want to visit the US. I had read lots of scary things online about new border regulations, and how the border guards now check social media accounts, and insist on looking through computers, and how aggressive it all is now. Plus the news reports showing innocent people being shot, or sent to holding centres prior to being deported. It made the US seem like a very unwelcoming place, somewhere that did not want visitors, somewhere that I didn’t want to go.
But Husband had other ideas. Husband talked about the Florida sunshine, the ease of living in a country with diners, and clean motels, and empty roads. Husband yearned for another road trip. He talked about being retired, having more time, what was life for if it wasn’t to be enjoyed?
So I relented. I chose the books I couldn’t live without for a few weeks, and then put half of them back on the shelf because I couldn’t lift my suitcase. After a few hard work days of sorting animals and house, we caught a flight from Heathrow and flew to Orlando.
The flight was mainly full of families visiting Disney. The flight attendants wore Mickey Mouse ears. When we landed, the border guards did not wear false ears, but the mood was the same—they were friendly and welcoming, gave tips about which roads to use. Nothing threatening at all. Maybe other airports are different, but I did not find any change at all to arriving in the US, despite the news coverage. Our first breakfast was at Denny’s—a typical diner, one of the things I love about travel in the US. Food is so easy, service is friendly.
We collected a car and drove to Sanibel Island. This is always beautiful. We had a few days adjusting our clock to US time (slightly, we stayed on an early clock). We strolled along the beach, I spent some time studying and enjoyed not having to sort animals or cook/clean anything.
Sanibel InnLighthouseSunset
On Sunday we went to church. I looked online, and nearly chose the Community Church, because that was the oldest on the island, and it looked easy. Instead we attended the Congregational Church, which turned out to be excellent. Since being at college, my theology has changed slightly, so I was expecting there to be things I disagreed with, but I was raised a Baptist, I know how to ‘be’ a Baptist (and Congregational churches are basically the same). I chose this one because the website said they welcome everyone, and specifically listed race, gender preferences, marriage status—everyone was welcome. I like this. Some churches, in their statement of faith, choose to state that they are against gay marriage (and whatever they believe, this never strikes me as a welcoming thing to write on their website, which is usually the first indication of their church ethos).
The photo online: were flower hats compulsory??
Husband came. I wore jeans (may as well test the welcome anyone thing) and it was easy to find and park. Churches in the US are sometimes like shopping malls, although this one was normal sized. They had a brass band—excellent start. They had a choir—also excellent (although I don’t think people had to audition to be a member). The sermon was by the minister, and surprisingly I didn’t disagree with anything he said! He obviously keeps up with the latest developments in biblical studies, and did not feel constrained to keep to the fundamentalist line (like who authored certain books). It was also very welcoming.
As well as attending different churches, I also want to compare espresso martinis in different places. The one I had in Sanibel was very average, especially as it was served in a tumbler, and half the fun is in having a pretty martini glass.
After a few days we left Sanibel and drove to Brooksville. The plan is to spend a few days driving north, round the pan handle, visiting places like Dauphin Island and New Orleans, heading towards Texas. We’ll see how far we get before we need to head home.
Thanks for reading. I hope the things you dread turn out to be good. I’ll let you know about the other places we visit.
Take care.
Love, Anne x
Holiday blogs are always written at the time, but posted later when I am home.
Meg is in disgrace. We had a couple of workmen in the house and garden, plus her favourite gardener (huge excitement when he arrives) so Meg was super hyper. The birds were loose in the garden, and we discovered that Meg can now open doors unless they are locked. She jumped at the handle, the door flew open. She charged out and leapt on Goose. Horrible moment. I yelled and screamed and shouted all sorts of commands that Meg ignored. Husband hauled her off Goose, and took her inside.
I picked up a terrified Goose, who rubbed her cheek against mine and trembled in my arms. I sat with her on my lap until she stopped trembling, then left her in the hay box for a while to calm down. Poor Goose.
15/11/2025
Meg hardly changes now, so there is much less to write. She’s a lovely companion (mostly) and follows me round the house, sleeping (and farting) in whichever room I am in. Sometimes she dreams and wakes up barking (not at great at night if I am also asleep).
I love how clever she is. One of her annoying habits is barking at dogs that we pass in the car. I try to notice them before her, and I start to talk in a quiet calm voice, hoping to distract her. Yesterday when I did this, Meg listened to my whisper and then barked at the other dog but super-softly, like she knew we needed to whisper. She barked in a whisper! It may have been coincidence, I will let you know if she continues to do this. It would be an improvement.
16/12/2025
Well, to my surprise, Meg seems to have stopped barking at other dogs when we pass them in the car. She does still bark at the occasional one, but perhaps they are particularly dodgy-looking in dog-world. Mostly we pass them without being yelled at from behind.
Meg has been a bit wild this week. I suspect it’s because the wild animals (foxes and deer) are marking/spraying. Even I, with my human nose, can sometimes smell a strong odour de la fox, so I’m sure it’s overpowering for Meg. Not that this is really an excuse for even more disobedience that normal.
We have put up the Christmas decorations, and other than trying to participate when we kneel on the floor to water the tree each day (obviously seen as a time for licking faces) Meg has been very good at ignoring them. She does sometimes carry her chew to a position that is extremely close to the Christmas tree, but as far as I know, she has not touched it. I don’t think I will hang chocolates on it though, that might a too much temptation for her.
We now have use of the field next to the house (the rams are with the ewes). For a few days, this made a very easy walk, as I would walk around the perimeter, and Meg would race the cars on the main road, tearing up and down at great speed. It was definitely racing, not chasing, as she watched and chose which vehicle she was going to race (usually a bus or lorry) and then she gave herself a headstart, beginning to run before they reached the field, charging at full speed along the hedge until the passed her, and then stopping and going back to the ‘start line’ to wait for the next target.
However, the novelty soon wore off. Meg noticed that I did a loop of the field, and she decided this was boring. If we go into the field now, she walks to the middle, and sits, watching me exercise myself, and then she joins me back at the gate to go inside. Not quite the plan. I have to take her to the woods now, otherwise she doesn’t have a walk.
5/1/2026
Meg has become very difficult. Not sure if it’s because she had a lot of restrictions over Christmas due to various visitors, plus the wet weather mean she spent vast amounts of time locked in a room while she dried off after being washed every time she came in from the muddy outside. Or it could be the foxes are still marking ready for mating season. Whatever the reason, Meg has reverted to ‘difficult teenager’ stage. We have lots of stand-offs, and trying to modify her behaviour is just plain hard work.
We walked yesterday across the fields. I am trying to not walk with her on the lead if she pulls, so it took about 15 minutes to cross the farm lane from one field to the other. She is also meant to sit before going through a gate—as a safety feature to give me a few seconds to check for unexpected livestock in the field (plus it’s good manners for her to sit while I unbolt the gates). She absolutely refused to do this. Left her on the wrong side of the gate, and marched across the field away from her, leaving her to frantically try to find a way through the gate. (Actually, she didn’t look frantic at all, more like a bolshy teenager.) Then a man came, and looked very worried that there was a big dog his side of the gate, with the owner halfway across the next field. So had to relent and collect her (the man looked at me like I was mad).
Then when on our own land, I hooked her lead over the post and walked away, returning to tell her to sit before I released her. Took AGES. Eventually she sat, and we continued. I feel frazzled after these stand-offs, and I don’t like her very much. Meg does not appear to be affected even slightly. It feels important, if I have given her a command, that nothing happens until she has obeyed. But it’s not fun, and it makes me want to just give in and have an unruly dog. Hope you have a better week than me. Thanks for reading. Take care. Love, Anne x
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 2nd 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.
Meg pretending she is obedient.
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.’]
Ruth came to stay again, Meg was delighted and brought her smelly towels as gifts. She definitely sees Ruth as an ally. When I try to correct her (like stopping her jumping at the door, or chewing a slipper) Meg will rush to Ruth, lean against her, and look at me. It’s like she’s saying, ‘You can’t be cross with me, Ruth is here.’ I do my best to keep Ruth safe by calling Meg away from the stairs and warning Ruth about massive logs being charged at her legs and things, but there is only so much I can do. Hopefully Meg won’t kill her by mistake.
We took Meg to a coffee shop today. We sat outside and tied her to the picnic bench, because in the past when she has been tied up she is slightly more subdued. She understands being tied, and that she cannot get free so she generally doesn’t struggle. It only half worked, as unfortunately Meg was able to jump up to our table and plant big GSD paws next to our coffee cups. Definitely not allowed. I shouted at her, she seemed very pleased with herself. After a while she settled down. She did bark at a passing dog, but only briefly. Plus there were lots of wasps, and she barked at them when she noticed. But mostly it wasn’t too bad, and the wasps were probably more annoying than Meg. I’m not sure it would have been so peaceful if another dog had been in sight, but it was okay for a trial, and nice to have her with us.
3/9/2025
We had a family holiday in Norfolk. I did not, for a second, consider taking Meg with us. She would have been a pain, and ruined the holiday for everyone. It’s a shame, because there is a lot of pleasure in walking across a beach with a happy dog. But she is very difficult to control when on the lead, and strange places invariably involve lots of walking on the lead. Plus, a little excitement goes a long, long, way with Meg. I have learned that Meg is at her best when the routine is unchanging. She seems to enjoy being in kennels (not entirely sure whether kennels enjoy having her!)
Routines and Meg are good. At home, every morning I get up, let her into the garden, prepare her food. She has started to have a sachet of wet food on her dry kibble ( a gift from someone whose dog didn’t like them) and she absolutely loves this! She comes in from the garden, walks to the garage door (where the sachets are stored) sits and waits for me to go in, then follows me, her nose nudging my leg, as I collect a sachet. She sits when we reach the door, follows me back into the kitchen, rushes to her crate and sits, looking angelic. She is fed in her crate, and I only put down the food when she is sitting, so she gets herself ready immediately!
I then make my coffee while she eats. I take my coffee into the sitting room, and Meg follows, sitting at each door until I go through it. She usually has a chew, and she remembers where she last had it, and will rush off to whichever room it was left in, then joins me in the sitting room. She lies on the floor, chewing, while I drink my coffee and read the Bible. When I close the Bible, Meg leaves her chew and comes to sit next to me, leaning against my knees. I then pray (in my head—this whole routine is done in silence). I do not know why she does this, I don’t know if she senses something, or if it’s just what she does so now she always does it. Then we leave the sitting room, and the day begins.
Today, I tried to do gardening with Meg. Not easy. Anything that might be construed as even faintly interesting sends Meg into super-excited mode. I was weeding, throwing the weeds into a wheelbarrow. Meg waited, fixed on my hands, leapt for every weed I threw. A few times she decided to join me on the flowerbed, trampling all the plants. She went off to find a stick, returned with it and attempted to leap over the flowerbed. She almost made it. More plants trampled. Then when grabbing at the weeds in the wheelbarrow, she unbalanced it, and the whole thing fell over, tipping weeds all over the lawn. I gave up at that point, and took her inside. The garden now looks worse than when I started.
5/9/2025
We walked to the pub for lunch, and attempted to take Meg again. She was terrible. Before we had even left the driveway—before we had even left the front doorstep—she heard a car in the lane and started to leap for it, barking. Perhaps we should have dumped her in the kitchen at that point, but we persisted. We walked to the pub with a hugely annoying dog who tried to chase every car that passed us. She was relatively good when we crossed a couple of fields, and very good when we walked through the woods, but at least half the walk is along lanes, and she was awful.
In the pub, she was mostly good. I took a chew, which she ignored, but for most of the time she lay in the corner, watching. No paws on the table this time, although she did bark at one point (for no apparent reason) and made everyone in the pub jump! Mostly, it was not a success. We will try again in 6 months. (I think that in about 5 years’ time, she will be good.) I am ever the optimist, but sometimes it is exhausting.
Hope you have a good day. Thanks for reading. Take care. Love, Anne x
I have had covid (my first time). Not a pleasant experience, and one that I hope to never repeat. I stayed in bed for several days—which is something that I never do. Even when I was feeling better, I stayed in my room until the 10-day-no-longer-contageous deadline, just in case. During this time, Meg was almost constantly my companion.
Meg is not allowed in my bedroom, but she sneaks in sometimes, and if she stays low and quiet, I pretend I have not noticed. For the first few days of illness, we continued this pretence. I would hear the door pushed open, the quiet footsteps of a sneaky dog, then the jolt of the bed as she lay down, leaning against it. It was nice. I woke and slept to the sound of Meg’s breathing (she breathes very noisily when she’s asleep). I have previously doubted whether Meg likes me much—she seems to prefer the rest of the world (who allow her to do what she wants). However, she definitely chose to be with me this week, even with other people in the house. Perhaps she sensed I was ill. It was nice.
After a couple of days, Meg decided she would join me on the bed. This was definitely crossing a line, and not allowed. She placed two legs on the bed, and reached across to lick me. I told her ‘Down!’ No reaction. I told her ‘No!’ Nothing changed. I reached for my water glass—Meg sighed and jumped down. She tried again, a few times a day. If I reached for the water glass, even if it was empty, then Meg jumped down. I like the modern theory that you train a dog with rewards, not punishment (nor threat of punishment). However, with Meg, I am not sure that it works. No treat is ever enough to deter her actions, but the threat of being wet always stops her. I tend to want an easy life, so the water glass it is.
*
We have almost completely stopped locking Meg in her cage during the day. We have left her unsupervised for several hours, and she has been fine. I therefore assumed that having Meg free all day, even if we are out, is now a thing. Yesterday she ate Husband’s pyjama top.
I am a little unclear as to where she found the top—whether it was waiting to be washed, or stowed neatly with his bedding—but Meg found it and decided it would be a good thing to chew into tatters. As he owns far worse clothes, I am assuming this was not a fashion decision. The sad result is that I no longer trust her for too long unattended, which is a big shame. I was not especially upset by the pyjama top, which is replaceable. A chair cushion would be a different matter.
*
I brushed Meg today, and I realised that this is the first time. Until now, she has been much too bouncy for me to even consider brushing her—much easier to just vacuum the house. However today, as I picked her fur from my sweater, I decided to try and brush her.
I have a variety of dog brushes and combs leftover from when Kia was alive. Kia would allow me to brush her, but only if I let her run like a crazy thing round the garden every few minutes. There was also one brush—with very fine metal teeth—which Kia would not let me use. She ran away when she saw it. I was not sure how Meg would behave.
We went in the garden, I told her to sit and ran the brush along her back, giving her lots of praise. Meg tried to take the brush. Meg heard a car and rushed off to investigate. Meg returned, we repeated the exercise. I collected a brush full of hair. I emptied the brush, and put the fur into the bush, as birds collect it for their nests. Meg jumped up, grabbed the fur, ate it.
I then tried using the metal-toothed brush that Kia hated. Meg didn’t seem to notice. The brush ran along her back, vast amounts of fur billowed out, Meg stretched, enjoying being scratched. She heard a car, and rushed off.
For several minutes we continued—I brushed her, until there was a car—Meg chased the car, then returned for more brushing. She tried to eat all the fur, but I managed to put most of it out of reach. At one point she jumped up, knocking my chin so I nearly bit my tongue (it’s a long time since she has done that). Other than that, the exercise was danger-free and not too stressful. She now looks nice and sleek.
Hoping you managed to brush your hair today. Thanks for reading. Take care. Love, Anne x
Our town has a community hall, run by the local churches, which provides a space for people to drop in for coffee, or attend a mothers-and-baby club, or meet other bereaved people, and so on. It’s a nice space, not too big, with a high ceiling and a kitchen, furnished with chairs and tables, kept clean by a band of volunteers.
This week I was invited to be the guest speaker for one of the clubs– ‘Place of Welcome’. My Mum attends each week, so I knew they had regular different speakers but the main focus was having tea and cake with friends. I was asked to speak about being an author, which is not something I have done since I started my studies several years ago.
I was very happy to speak, and it provided a chance to give away a few books. I spent 10 years writing books and selling them to cover the cost of publishing (and then, after they were paid for, sending money to Tearfund) but then I stopped. I still have stories in my head, and one day I shall write them down, but I have given myself permission to stop publishing and selling books (because I always hated the selling part).
I do however, still own a LOT of books — rookie error when I started and ordered hundreds of copies (optimistically thinking that all my family and friends would buy them, whereas in reality, no family ever bought them nor many friends, so mostly I sold to strangers, which was okay but not fun). I did cover my costs fairly quickly (due to lots of hard work selling them in shops and at fairs) but I still have boxes of books, sort of taunting me, stacked in a cupboard. I would love for them all to be read, so at any opportunity, I give them to people. I wasn’t sure how many people to expect (I think it ranges from 4 to 30) so I loaded up a pull-along bag with books, ever hopeful.
The talk was, I think, okay. I always feel very nervous before speaking (no idea why, nothing bad was going to happen if I fluffed my words). I took little cards with me, with happy/sad faces on each side, thinking they could flip them as I described the journey from idea to published book, showing whether they thought they would enjoy the various stages. This did not work at all–they either didn’t understand what I had intended, or (more likely) thought it was a silly idea. Which meant they just had to sit and listen to me. But they were an easy enough group (there were about 20 people) and they laughed at the funny bits, and no one heckled or walked out.
After the talk, I left my heap of books on a table, and tried to mingle. I’m not very comfortable doing this–chatting aimlessly to people–I much prefer to have a job. But it felt rude to just finish my talk and leave, so I tried. One lady told me she hadn’t heard my talk, because I had held the microphone too low, so I wasn’t loud enough. I’ll know next time to do a ‘sound check’ at the beginning.
Then the tea and cakes appeared, which was the main reason for people being there, so I took my things and escaped. All the book were taken, which is marvellous–one more empty box. I hope they enjoyed my talk (those who could hear it) and I hope they enjoy the books. But really, it wasn’t about either of those things. It was about supporting the workers, who give up time every week to provide a place of welcome for whoever wants one. I think community groups are great, and should never be underrated or taken for granted. So if ever you are asked to help at one, I think you should accept. But don’t forget to start with a sound-check.
I hope you have a great day and hear everything that’s worth hearing. Thanks for reading. Take care. Love, Anne x
(I love how the AI that generated this image from my blog assumed I was an elderly man!!)
Although I no longer actively sell my books, they are all available online. They are worth reading if you fancy relaxing for a few hours.
Do be kind and add a review to Amazon, that always makes me smile.
The longer we have Meshi staying here, the more I realise that we ‘got right’ with Meg’s training. This is extremely reassuring, as mostly I am aware of all the ways that we failed! I think if I could go back in time, I would say that anything that I thought would ‘sort itself out when she’s older’ simply did not happen, and all the tiny bits of everyday training that we insisted on have been worthwhile. For example, every morning she bounds for the door and leaps at it; we insist that she sits and looks at us; or the door does not open—this has helped her to learn some impulse control. In contrast, Meshi ignores absolutely everything I say.
The two dogs have been very good together in terms of friendliness. They genuinely seem to like each other, and when Meg has been in her crate and Meshi is loose, he tends to stay close to her, and if he puts his nose through the bars she licks his nose. Very cute. The nicest times are in the garden, when I walk them round the loop of the perimeter together. Meshi is on the lead (because he will not return when I call, and I cannot risk losing him). Meg is loose, running round with a stick (log) in her mouth, but staying close. Meg tends to take the lead, and Meshi races off, straining on the lead to follow her. He pauses to pee on every bush/tree/flower, and Meg stops to wait for him, then continues to lead the way round the garden.
I have tried to stop Meshi going into Meg’s crate—that is her space. He tries to sneak in there at every opportunity. Yesterday the crate door was closed, and I watched him walk round the crate, looking for a way inside. Meg also saw him, jumped up from where she was lying with her chew, and went and opened the door for him, then they both went inside and Meshi started to eat her food. I quickly got him out—great danger of being squashed.
Meg usually settles down if she has a chew. I buy her (at great cost) large rolls of camel hide, and these last for several days (they stink). Meshi has decided that he also likes them. Whichever chew Meg has is the chew that Meshi wants. She is incredibly good-natured, and allows him to take the chew out of her mouth and walk away with it. She then goes and finds another chew. After a few minutes, Meshi decides he wants the new chew, so gets up and removes it from Meg, who goes and collects her original chew. I don’t intervene. Unlike with children, who can be taught about sharing and fairness and not taking toys away from other children, my understanding is that dogs are different. In the wild, a pack will have a leader, and that dog eats first, and dominate the rest of the pack. The pack is peaceful as long as no one challenges the pack leader. I want peace in my house. I allow Meshi to be the pack leader. (I am also trying to establish that I am not in the pack, and unlike Meg, I do not follow his lead. I have managed to make him sit down when told, but not much else. Luckily he is small.)
My main difficulty has been in keeping Meshi physically safe. He is so much smaller than Meg, and she is incredibly strong and incredibly bouncy. Whenever I have allowed them short bursts of free play, Meg has been in danger off leaping on him—which could easily dislocate a limb and would certainly hurt him—so almost immediately I have to separate them. I can have them both in the same room, but only in a very controlled way, telling Meg to lie down and not allowing her to stand until Meshi has also decided to lie down (usually with one of Meg’s chews). There have been a few times when they have both been free and settled in the same area, but I would not feel comfortable leaving them unattended.
I have noticed a change in Meg since Meshi arrived. Usually when we walk in the woods, she completely ignores all the other dogs (of which there are many) and will avoid them if possible, concentrating on her stick and veering off into the undergrowth if they approach. This week, Meg has been approaching other dogs, walking up to them. She has returned to me when I call (after she has finished sniffing the other dog, not instantly) but she is definitely showing more interest. I’m not sure whether this is a good thing. Some owners will be frightened of a big German Shepherd approaching their darling Spaniel—it was easier when she ignored them. Perhaps she has realised that other dogs might be fun to play with, or maybe previously she was frightened of them. I don’t know. I’m hoping that after Meshi has gone to his own home, Meg will gradually forget about playing with other dogs and will go back to ignoring them. Otherwise I will need to improve her ‘recall’ so she returns to me instantly if I need her to.
Another change is in my own attitude, having Meshi here has made me look at Meg, and I realise that she has become very dependable. She never steals food, or destroys things, or toilets in the house. (This is not to imply Meshi does these things, but rather that I appreciate Meg never has.) Therefore I feel I should stop putting her in the crate when I leave the house. This week I have left her free to roam the house while I have been out, and so far there has been no damage. I think she just sleeps when I’m not here. I even went to London, leaving her for several hours, and all was fine when I returned. This is marvellous. It means she is now a good deterrent for burglars, and it’s much nicer for her when it’s hot, as she can more easily find somewhere cool to lie. (Of course, there is still a possibility that I will return to find she has dismantled a cupboard or removed the stuffing from a sofa—but for now it’s great.)
Hope you have a great day. Thanks for reading. Take care. Love, Anne x
I agreed to look after Son’s dog while he’s away. He is a small male Shiba Inu, very cute, looks exactly like Basil Brush (this is the dog, obviously, not my son!). I asked friends for advice on how to introduce dogs, and the main tip seemed to be—given Meg’s personality—to keep everything as calm as possible. Meshi must be presented as something boring. Of course, with Meg, nothing is boring.
When they were due to arrive, I took Meg into the garage for some ‘training exercises.’ This was as neutral a place as I could manage, as they were coming late for dinner, and I couldn’t be in the woods or somewhere completely neutral given the time. (Though actually, going out for a walk is super exciting in Meg’s world, so maybe the boring garage was better.) I had some meat as a treat, and we practised walking to heel, stopping, turning, waiting until called, lying down. All the things we practise regularly. Mid-way through the ‘training session’ Son and Meshi entered the garage.
Meg immediately ran up to Meshi, so I called her to heel—she half-came (automatic response) then realised that Meshi was more interesting and ran back to him. Meshi seemed uncertain but not frightened. There was a bit of running round, then I called Meg to me again. I wanted to stop the excitement from escalating (although nothing with Meg is ever calm). This time Meg came to me, sat, received a treat. She didn’t wait to be ‘released’ but ran straight back to Meshi, but that was not too bad and it broke the cycle of excitement. Meshi is older and male, and although he is much smaller, he soon asserted himself as the dominant dog. This was good, and what I had hoped. Meg is bouncy, but she is relatively submissive with other dogs. Meshi was able to ‘stop the game’ when he had had enough, and Meg backed off. She did not stop trying to re-engage with him, so we limited their interaction to a few minutes. I then told Meg to go into her crate, and she went to the garage door, and then ran to her crate. I think she wanted a break too, but didn’t know how to stop the chasing/being chased game. Meshi was very relaxed when Meg was in her crate, and happily lay on the floor nearby. Meg wanted a rest, so ate her food and went to sleep. So far so good.
We let them interact a few more times during the evening, but for very short bursts and in a very controlled setting. I have read that dogs need a ‘top dog’ and we decided this would be Meshi, even though Meg is bigger and stronger. Therefore when Meshi ‘stopped the game’ by showing his teeth (not biting or being aggressive, just showing he wanted her to back-off) we enforced this by calling Meg away.
We left Meg in her cage for the evening, and let Meshi have the run of the house. They both slept, all was peaceful.
This morning I took the dogs into the garden separately to toilet. Then I attempted to have them both with me (Meshi on a lead) while I cleared up their mess. Meg was super-excited and kept trying to entice Meshi into a game, and he was keen but wary, so it was not a relaxing start to the day. Meshi peed on absolutely everything in the garden—no idea how he produces so much pee!
While I had coffee I put Meg into her crate with her breakfast, fed Meshi in the dining room, went to have my coffee. I returned to find him curled up on a sofa—which is not allowed. I told him no, and he ignored me, so I removed him and explained that dogs are not allowed on my furniture. He gave me a look. Am pretty sure he will wait until I have gone and then get back onto the sofa. I hope Meg doesn’t decide to copy—this is one of the few things she is good at obeying.
Actually, Meg has done very well. Although she is way too excited and bouncy, considering she has a dog, who she has never met, in her house, she is very friendly. There seems to be nothing territorial or aggressive in her at all—which considering her siblings are all in the police and bringing down criminals, is excellent. One of my fears was that she might be aggressive. Online I see videos of her siblings as they fly through the air and grab hold of men and pull them down—and I was keen not to have that in a pet. We have tried very hard not to stimulate her aggressive side (which is why I was wary of the training advice from the police-dog handler—who would have produced an obedient dog, but not necessarily a friendly one). I spent the day working, sharing the run of the house with the dogs in turn. I didn’t attempt to have them sharing the same space for long—not yet. Maybe when they are used to each other that will work, but for now it’s better to have them mostly in separate rooms. When I let them have ‘free play’ (closely watched the entire time, because I do not want to return a damaged dog to my son!) they chase each other. Meshi will run away, with Meg chasing, then he will turn and face her. I call Meg back to me—taking his turning as an indication that he has lost patience. Meg runs towards me, Meshi chases her, tail wagging. Meg then turns and chases him, and he runs away (still with tail wagging). At one point they did laps of the kitchen. But Meg is so easily tipped into mega-excited-mode, that I stop the game pretty soon. I tell Meg to go into her bed, and she is very obedient and does this immediately. Sometimes I don’t even bother to shut the door; Meg entering her crate is enough to calm the game. Sometimes Meshi attempts to enter her crate too, and I stop this and shut the door. I think Meg needs a space that belongs to her alone (though I haven’t noticed any signs that she is bothered).
I will let you know how things develop. Thank you for reading. Take care. Love, Anne x
Hello, and how is your 2026 going so far? Last year whizzed past, so I might keep the Christmas decorations under the bed this year to save me scrabbling in the back of the cupboard. But maybe that (the time-whizzing thing) is just because I am getting older—time definitely goes faster as we age.
We went to an event this week which would suit any age—the annual town Tractor Run. I’m not sure if other rural towns do this, but where I live, every year all the local farmers decorate their tractors with lights and tinsel, and parade through the villages honking their horns and flashing their lights. It’s brilliant! I dragged Husband along this year; I could tell he wasn’t keen as we stomped through the dark lanes, and risked the cars whizzing along the main road, to the nearest viewpoint. There were lots of other people—families and couples and people walking their dogs. My town is good at community events.
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We stood next to the road, in the dark, waiting. After a few minutes we could hear horns, way off over the fields, and we knew they were coming. There were a few cars, and a motorbike flashing his lights (not sure if he was part of it or just entering into the general mood). Then the tractors arrived—I’m guessing about 200 of them, giant ones, ancient ones, tiny ones; some looked not much bigger than our lawn mower, others could have moved a house. It was terribly exciting—I’m not sure why. Perhaps it was the lights and noise in the dark lane, maybe it was the size of some of the machines (maybe it was all the hunky young farmers!) I thought it was brilliant. I do enjoy a good parade.
Another thing I have enjoyed this week is a book by Richard Todd. He’s no relation, although I have met him a few times because two of his brothers married two of my aunts. When I heard he’d written a book, I bought a copy (partly because I happen to know that publishing a book takes a lot of courage). He was the head gardener at Anglesey Abbey, and the book describes his career, interspersed with how he believes God has guided him. It’s not a complicated book (which is very refreshing after reading lots of theology books, which do tend to make religion seem very complicated). If you are interested in gardening, or just want something nice to read at bedtime, I recommend it.[1]
Do you have times when you read certain books? I do. At bedtime, I like something that’s easy to read, nice and relaxing. But if I wake in the night and I can’t go back to sleep, I tend to read theology books—which tend to be slightly boring, but also make me feel I’m not wasting time so it doesn’t matter if I’m sleepy the next day. This does not work for the few theologians who write well (like Moberley or Clines) because then I become engrossed in the book and the night disappears. In the afternoon, when on holiday, I like something interesting—my favourites are John le Carre or Joanna Trollope—which are very different authors but they both have a nice turn of phrase. Their books are like sipping a good red wine next to the fire.
I don’t watch much telly, although Husband and I do enjoy watching certain series (usually on Netflix or even DVD—remember those?!) Our big secret is that several years ago, Husband gave me the entire boxset of The Good Wife and we have already rewatched it THREE times! It’s disappointing how much we have forgotten each time—especially when we watched it for the third time. Whole plots are like new. Which I guess is one of the many good things about growing old—bad memory means you enjoy the same films and books more than once. I hope you enjoy something this week—whether it’s a parade or a book or a television series.
Thanks for reading. Take care. Love, Anne x
PS. For those who follow my blog regularly, my last two venesections were both cancelled because my iron levels have remained normal. I am extremely thankful for this and hope it continues. I am always cautious when talking about ‘answers to prayer’ (because what about the prayers that appear to be ‘unanswered’?—how do we explain parents who have lost children, drought-ridden areas when people pray for rain, those praying for the end to war, etc?)
All I can say is that I did pray for the impossible and ask to not need more venesections, and the last two have been cancelled. Make of that what you will. I’m due for another one this week, so waiting to see what the blood test says…
Anne E Thompson 