animals

Meg’s Diary: When Another Dog Visits Part Two

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13/7/2025

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

Meg’s Diary: When Another Dog Came to Stay

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3/7/2025

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

Meg’s Diary: A Broken Ball

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16/6/2025

After my run, I collect Meg and her ball, and go into the lounge (which is carpeted, and out of bounds for Meg). She follows me, and I place the ball on the floor next to her, and tell her: ‘Leave!’ Meg stares at the ball, occasionally placing a paw onto the carpet—which I remind her is not allowed. I then do some floor exercises—press-ups and stretches and stuff—while Meg stares at the ball. Even if someone comes to the door, or walks through the hallway, Meg ignores everything except her ball.

After a few minutes, I praise Meg, throw the ball, continue with the exercises. Meg races down the hall after the ball, brings it back and chews it next to me. After a while (when she has asserted her claim on the ball) she will place it in my hand, ready to repeat.

Today, when I threw the ball, Meg chased after it, then returned without it. She stood in the hall, staring at me. No ball. Something was wrong. I told her to go and fetch the ball.

Meg disappeared for a few minutes. She returned with half the ball. It is made by Kong—and very strong, but it has a separate section in the middle, and over time her chewing means that it has come apart. Meg was very worried by this. She put the half-ball down in front of me and stared, asking what she should do next.

I took the half-ball, and told her to fetch the rest. Meg charged off, and returned with the thin strip that had fallen off the ball. She was obviously very worried by this. I tried to mend it, but it kept falling apart. I shall have to buy a replacement.

***

When we went to the woods today, Meg chased a deer. It happened while we were walking along a narrow footpath, and I was having a rest from sticks and just walking, so Meg had nothing to focus on. She spotted the deer before I did, and was gone in a flash.

I could hear them, crashing through the undergrowth (that would be Meg, she is like a tank when she runs). Then nothing. No sound, no sight, both dog and deer disappeared.

I remember that with Kia, calling her made no difference—if she chased a deer it was a waste of breath. I also think (based on no evidence at all) that if a dog can hear you calling in the distance, it does not make them return but it does give them the confidence to keep running, because they know where the rest of the pack is, so they can leave them there until they have finished chasing the deer. I therefore waited, without making a sound, until I heard the crashing of Meg returning. I quickly turned away, and began to walk off, as if I had not noticed she was missing, and was certainly not waiting for her, and if she got lost, that was her concern. My hope (again, based on no evidence at all) is that if Meg knows I will not wait for her, or even care that she is gone, then perhaps it will stop her running too far. The responsibility to stay ‘with the pack’ belongs with her. I have absolutely no idea whether this makes any difference. Nor do I know what I will do in the event that Meg does not return (because actually, I will care very much). But most of my training of Meg is based on compromise and chances, so hopefully that will never happen.

Hope you make some good compromises this week. Thanks for reading.
Take care.
Love, Anne x

Meg’s Diary: Not Well

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Meg was ill. She started being sick during the night, and was still being ill in the morning.

It’s always very difficult when a dog (or very young child) is ill, because you have to make a decision on their behalf as to how serious it is. I am not a great one for rushing to the doctor/vet whenever someone is ill, because I think usually people/animals get well by themselves. Going to the doctor/vet is just a big hassle (when you’re already stressed after clearing up unexpected mess) plus it means the ill child/dog has to be transported (not always easy when trying to contain mess) plus it mainly introduces them to a whole lot of new germs when their immunity is already low (because it is mostly other germy people/dogs in the waiting rooms). Plus with the vet, there is the lovely addition of the cost.

We do not have pet insurance for Meg. We decided with our other dogs to ‘self-insure,’ noticing that when they were younger they rarely needed medical attention and it was cheaper to pay ourselves than to pay the premium, and when they get old, the premium rises to being very expensive. The pet insurance companies are not running a charity, and we decided the risks were in our favour. Obviously, this is a personal decision, and we are aware that if something unexpected happened, we might have to pay an extremely expensive bill or six. But Kia lived to 16 years  old, and even with a whopping bill for a twisted stomach surgery, we still think we saved money.

Vet bills and insurance is difficult for me. I worry that due to the ease of ‘not really paying’ at the time, people allow vets to undertake evermore complex (and costly) treatments, and I don’t know whether the animal is always better off. It can be hard to let go, but I do think that for an animal—who does not understand the pain or what is happening, sometimes that is the kinder option. I fully understand how difficult the decision can be, I think we lose a little bit of our heart with every animal we lose, and I still mourn my other dogs. But sometimes, when a treatment is difficult and lengthy and the odds of it working are slim or the animal will never be pain-free afterwards, I question whether it is the kindest option. Plus, I think not using insurance keeps things real. I have a problem with balancing priorities with money—there will never be enough in the world, and I know that there are currently people suffering due to lack of resources—is a pet’s life worth more than a child’s? This is an issue for me, and not one that I solve logically. I do spend a lot of money on keeping my pets fed and healthy, and I do give a relatively small amount of money (in regards to how much I keep for myself) to aid agencies. But when there is a huge vet’s bill, if I am paying myself and not just signing a form for the insurance people, it makes me stop, and think, and evaluate. I ask myself whether this huge amount of money is best spent on my pet, and whether I can justify it in the big picture. As I said, it is not logical, and I do not question every coffee I buy in a cafe, or every random pair of shoes that I buy, but I do think that occasionally it is good to have ‘stops’ in our brain, something to make us pause and consider what we should be spending our money on.

But none of these issues were at stake here, Meg was vomiting, and I needed to decide what to do. I tried to think about what she might have eaten, and I realised that we do have poisonous plants in the garden, and although she has never touched them, maybe she did. Or she might have picked up a germ from another dog. Or she may have eaten something that has made her sick but is not dangerous. As I said, it’s the same with a small child—you have to decide whether this is something serious that needs fast medical attention, or something that will get better on its own. I tend to have a general rule that if the patient is basically well in themselves (not too lethargic/listless) and if they are drinking water, they will probably be okay to leave for a day.[1] Then they will either be better or worse, which makes the decision easier. Meg seemed fine in herself, maybe slightly less bouncy, but still keen to come in the garden, and she was drinking water. (Also, she was only being sick, her bowels seemed to be okay, so she wasn’t losing vast amounts of liquid.) I decided to wait and watch (and clean the kitchen floor). After a morning, she seemed completely fine. When she was well the next day, I decided she was better, and stopped worrying. I still have no idea whether she ate something bad, or caught a germ. But my kitchen floor is very clean.

Hope your kitchen floor is clean for a better reason. Thanks for reading.
Take care.
Love, Anne x

[1] It should be noted that there are certain conditions which do not fit into this rule, and they need to be learnt separately. For example, any of the meningitis signs on a child would get instant attention. In a dog, I know that a twisted stomach does not initially bother them, but they need fast attention: look out for ‘egg-white’ type vomit, when they are not managing to bring up anything from their stomach, and general signs of discomfort or distended tummy. Kia was sick shortly after eating, but none of the food was in her vomit, which was a big sign that something was wrong, but she seemed fine and was excited to be ‘going for a walk’ when we took her to the vet. We managed to get her to a vet in time for them to operate, and she lived for several more years, and she did run along the beach again. (My one question: If we put her through this surgery, will she ever run along the beach again?)

Meg’s Diary

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28/5/2025

We had another Bank Holiday weekend, and this one had nothing planned so we chilled at home. On the Sunday I was feeling lazy, and the view from upstairs showed the field next to the house was freshly mown, with no animals, and the sun was shining—so we thought, why not walk Meg there for a change? What could possibly go wrong?

Of course, lots could go wrong before we even left the driveway, so I was careful to ensure that Husband was happy to hold the lead the entire way—so if a car passed us Meg wouldn’t break my arm in her quest to chase it. Husband decided to also bring the extending lead, which I have now deemed as too dangerous given the speed that Meg reaches before the lock clicks in, and I am pulled after her at 45 mph. But he was convinced it would be fine, and off we set.

There is a large oak tree in the corner of the field, so when we passed I collected lots of fallen sticks, and Husband and Meg collected the largest logs they could carry, and off we went. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, Meg was happily walking round the field with us, chasing sticks. At one point a car went down the lane, and Meg raced the length of the field trying to catch it, but she was safely behind the hedge, so I viewed it as good exercise.

But then it all went wrong (of course it did!) Husband threw his log, which bounced, and Meg zoomed after it, and as she caught it, she yelped. I wasn’t sure what had happened, and she looked unhurt as she ran back to us. But then I realised she had blood dripping from her mouth. I called her to me, and made her sit, and opened her mouth (she’s very good at letting me poke my fingers in her mouth, and the only times she has ever bitten me is when she’s snatching at a stick). But she wouldn’t let me look properly, so we took her home, trailing drips of blood behind us.

At home, I put some cider vinegar into her water bowl as a way to try and clean whatever was cut, but Meg sniffed it and walked to her bed, refusing to drink. We checked her a few times, and I decided that if she was no better the following day we would take her to the vet. In my experience, animals have a very fast metabolism, and most times (unless there is something obvious, like a cut or a splinter) they get better on their own.

Meg didn’t eat anything that night, but the next morning I wet her dried food so it was soft, and she ate it all. I tried to look in her mouth, but all I could see was that under her tongue was swollen. She didn’t let me move her tongue to see if there was a splinter. I decided to wait another couple of days, because I couldn’t see that the vet would be able to do anything without a general anaesthetic and I am unkeen to allow those unless strictly necessary. Gradually, Meg improved, she stopped being subdued (that didn’t last more than a few hours) and began to use her mouth normally.

***

On the Monday, we decided to walk to the pub for lunch, and as it was nice having Meg in the field for a change, we decided to take her. We last took her to the pub about a year ago, and she was very annoying, so I was hoping for an improvement.

Walking to the pub was mostly okay. We could do most of it in fields. Meg clearly remembered the route, even after all this time, and was often in the lead. We had to cross a stile, and Meg remembered where it was, and squeezed through the central gap without a problem. A few cars passed us on the lane, and Meg was terrible, and leapt at them—but we knew that she would, and Husband had her on a tight lead, and no one was injured.

In the pub I tied Meg to a wall, and pulled a ball from my pocket. At home she will concentrate on a ball for a long time, waiting until she is allowed to have it. It worked less well in the pub. Initially she lay down, with her paws either side, and her head above the ball—not touching (which was not allowed) but only millimetres away. When she thought I wasn’t looking, she nudged it forward. I then tried giving her the ball, thinking that the treat of being allowed the ball might keep her quiet for a while. But Meg wanted me to throw it, and when I didn’t, she did. She was fairly near some steps, and she managed to toss the ball towards them, and then lurched forward to get it, nearly pulling the hook out of the wall she was attached to. At one point a woman passed, and Meg barked her ‘big dog’ bark and I realised the woman was carrying a small dog. Everyone in the pub jumped, and then stared. I apologised, tried to get her to refocus on the ball. It was not a relaxing lunch. However, it was not completely terrible, so I might try it again.

The walk home was relaxed. Meg ran free most of the time, and we ignored her and enjoyed being in the sunshine. I love to watch her run around, and she probably made the walk more fun (if you don’t include the lurching at cars thing—I certainly could never take her on my own). It takes us about an hour to walk to the pub, and when I leave Meg at home, I then have to take her for a walk, so it’s much easier if she comes with us. We decided that taking Meg with us made it less relaxing, but it was not a complete failure. In Meg-world, that’s about as good as it gets.

I hope you have something relaxing this week. Thanks for reading.
Take care.
Love, Anne x

anneethompson.com
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Meg’s Diary

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6/5/2025

I have had a fun week with Meg—perhaps because it has been a ‘normal’ week, with nothing to make her over-excited. The only unusual event was that Meg chased a deer. We were walking in the woods, and I was throwing sticks (but a little apathetically—it was hot) when I heard the trees rustling. I guessed it was probably a deer, but I took no notice because we have encountered deer many times in the woods, and Meg is always more interested in the sticks I throw. But not this time. This time Meg went off to investigate. I watched her walk into the trees, sniffing, then she stopped, ears alert. She paused for a second and then was off, zooming through the trees and out of sight. I never saw a deer, but I assume that’s what she saw. I waited. I waited for quite a long time. Husband started to call her, but I suggested it was better to wait. I thought that if Meg could hear us, she would confidently continue to run away, knowing we were waiting. If we were silent, perhaps she would notice that she was alone and decide to return before she got too far away. I have no idea if this is a thing, but most of my dog-training techniques are based on ignorance, so it was worth a try. After a few minutes I spotted Meg returning, so we quickly resumed our walk, trying to look as if we didn’t care whether she was with us or not, and we (the pack) were leaving without her. Again, no idea if this is a thing, but it made me feel in control.

Another change is that this week (and maybe only this week) Meg has been jumping into the boot without a fuss. The turning point came one day when I was frustrated by our regular stand-off: me staring at Meg trying to coax her into the boot with treats and commands, her staring back and trying to coax me on a longer walk by refusing to get into the car. I clipped a long lead onto a restraining point in the car, the other onto her collar, and removed her lead. Then I just ignored her, and changed into my shoes ready to drive away. Meg jumped into the boot. The following day, as soon as she saw me reach for the long lead, she jumped into the boot. I no longer have to reach for the long lead—we get to the car, I open the boot, Meg jumps inside (just like all the other dogs I see, who are less awkward than my treasure). The only reason that I can think of, is that Meg was only awkward because I cared, and if I am not even going to try then she can’t be bothered to make a stand. Is this a dog thing? It’s certainly a teenaged boy thing, and Meg definitely has other similar behaviour traits to teenaged boys, so maybe it is. I will let you know if it continues. Perhaps ‘not caring’ is a way to make her obedient. That would be easy. (I cannot describe how different this is to Kia, my lovely ‘normal’ GSD, who would have walked through fire to please me and was upset if I was unhappy. Meg just sees me as competition!)

***

23/5/2025

Last weekend we went to Cambridge. It’s when we want to go away that having a dog feels like a hassle. Usually we pay vast amounts of money to put her in kennels, but this time My daughter kindly agreed to have her. I knew Meg would be happy (I was slightly more worried about Daughter!)

I walked Meg in the woods on the way to my daughter’s and then while Husband unloaded her crate from the car, I walked with Meg along the road. I wanted to see whether, now she is older, she will walk without leaping at cars when she is somewhere unfamiliar. For the first half of the walk (about 5 minutes) Meg was fine, although was clearly ‘noticing’ the cars. But I had a stick, and when a car came I managed to refocus her attention to the stick (which was snapped into pieces by the end of the 5 minutes—so she was tense). It all went wrong when we were nearly back at Daughter’s house. A car could be heard, approaching at speed, and I saw Meg click into ‘fully alert’ mode. I tried to make her focus on me, and told her to sit, and tried to calm her—but it was too late. As the car whizzed round the corner, Meg hurled herself towards it (and nearly broke my arm). Shame. Husband came came and rescued me, and I told Daughter that it definitely is not safe to walk Meg near a road, and she should just play with her in the garden while we were away.

When we collected Meg at the end of the weekend, she was happy and excited, and Daughter was okay and unharmed, so I feel it was successful.

***

Yesterday I made a mistake, and let Meg into the garden when cockerel was out. He had been annoying when I shut up the birds for the night, and he ran off when he saw me trying to herd them all inside, so I was feeling cross with him and decided that he would have to cope with Meg. This was a bad mistake. I thought she would bark at him (as she does when on the lead) and that he would posture aggressively, and after facing-off, I would be able to herd him inside. It didn’t go like that.

Meg came up the garden with me, and I made sure she had a stick in her mouth. She saw the cockerel, and in an instant had dropped the stick and was on him. I called her, shouted to ‘Stop!’ and ‘Leave!’ Meg was deaf, zero response. She leapt onto the cockerel, and pinned him down. He made all sorts of attempts to get free and tried to jump at her with his spurs ready to attack, but she had him, trapped between her feet, long feathers drifting round them. I heaved her off him, and Husband took her inside while I sorted cockerel. I thought he was dead, but he wasn’t, he was just squashed. I lifted him into the cage, and watched to see whether he was likely to recover. He stood up, looked a bit dazed, and then started to walk around. Other than loosing some feathers, I think he is unharmed.

This was a learning experience for me—do not let Meg near my birds. It all happened in a second. But to be fair, Meg did not seem to be trying to kill him, I don’t think her teeth went near him, she just wanted to restrain him. Obviously my birds are too small, and she could easily kill one by mistake, but I guess she was only following her instinct to dominate and capture a herd (just happened to be a bird, not a flock of sheep). I’m not sure I will ever be able to train her to be safe around my other animals, though at least she has absolutely no aggression towards them.

I hope you have a safe week. Thanks for reading.
Take care.
Love, Anne x

anneethompson.com
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Meg’s Diary

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We took Meg to Camber Sands. At the beach we had a hiccup in the car park. Meg got a whiff of sea air, spotted another dog, started to whirl in circles and leap all over me. No control at all. Husband had walked on, but he noticed (eventually) and came to rescue me before I dislocated something essential. Once on the beach, I removed the lead (wasn’t too sure about this) showed Meg the stick I had brought (which she leapt at, in a very uncontrolled manner) and then started to walk. Like magic, Meg settled into ‘walking mode.’ I walked along the beach, throwing things for her to chase, she followed, absorbed in the game, ignoring everything else.

After a while we stopped and rested on a sand dune. Meg sat on the sand, where she was, and didn’t move. She was not especially near us, but she was watching. I think she was worried I might put on the lead again. She lay on the sand, just watching. Various people walked past her, various dogs walked past her (one brown curly spaniel even bounded up to her barking). Meg just sat, waiting for the game to resume, ignoring everything else. (Husband asked what I would do if she reacted badly to the spaniel. I replied that the spaniel had approached Meg, aggressively barking, and the owner had not stopped it. Therefore if Meg chose to eat it, that was not my concern. Not sure this was the answer he was expecting.)

It was a sunny day, the wind was gentle, the waves were lapping onto the shore. All very lovely. I wanted an ice cream before we went home, but they were deemed too expensive, so we drove home for a cup of tea instead. Well done Meg, a good day out.

Today I took Meg to the supermarket, and tied her up outside. I like doing this—it gives her something interesting to do, she often gets petted by other shoppers, and she waits very patiently. But today someone warned me that ‘the gypsies’ might steal her. This is the second time someone has warned me that she might get stolen. I don’t know whether this is a real risk or not. But she does wag her tail in a very non-threatening manner, so I don’t think anyone would be fooled into thinking she might bite them. And she is a very attractive dog. Bit of a quandary. Not sure what to do in the future.


6/7/2025

The little pony is back in the field next to the house. There are rams in the field too. Meg spends hours at the top of the garden, and refuses to come inside when called. Her and the pony run up and down the fence together, the rams just stand there, looking confused. Meg now smells of horse, so I think the pony must be putting her head through the fence, and is possibly licking Meg. It’s an unusual friendship, but kind of cute.


10/4/25

Today Meg emptied a plant pot and ate the avocado seed I was trying to grow. I found it in pieces all over the carpet. Meg didn’t seem ill (which is lucky, as I know the seeds and skins of avocado are poisonous—maybe she didn’t actually swallow any). I don’t think it will grow now.

I water my houseplants every Friday, and Meg follows me round the house, watching. In the kitchen I have a fern, which is sitting on a tray of gravel so the water can evaporate and keep the leaves humid. (I’m not sure if this actually works, but it’s what the instructions told me to do, and the fern is growing despite being repeatedly bashed by enthusiastic dog’s tail.) The only problem is that Meg prefers to drink the water from the gravel tray than from her bowl. Maybe it’s salty, I don’t know. Without fail, I water the plant every Friday, and as soon as she thinks I am not watching, Meg goes and drinks all the water. I worry that she also drinks some of the gravel, but it’s hard to stop her. She has a full bowl of fresh water always available, plus a bucket of water in the garden (because she is super-messy with water and sort of bites it when drinking instead of lapping it like other dogs). But nothing, it seems, compares to the water in the gravel tray. Except perhaps the extremely germ-filled muddy puddles that we pass when walking in the woods—she will sneak off to drink from those too if she has the chance.

24/4/2025

Yesterday was another low-point in our relationship. I checked the nest in the aviary, and saw the ducklings were hatching, so I needed to prepare a brooder and move mother and ducklings there (because ducks are usually pretty terrible mothers, and if I release them all on the pond, all the ducklings die/are eaten within a week or two). This involved lots of moving around the garden, so I let Meg come with me for the first part, knowing I would need to lock her inside when I moved the ducks or she would bark and cause all sorts of chaos. (Not yet the helpful farm dog I was hoping for.) I decided to throw some sticks for her first, so she could have a run around before being confined again. Bad decision.

I was only half concentrating on Meg, as I was thinking about the best way to move the ducks. There was a moment, when Meg was on the middle lawn holding a fairly big log, and I was on the narrow footpath between the lawns, and I (stupidly) picked up a decent stick to throw, called her, threw it behind me. I had not considered the size of the log in her mouth in relation to the size of the path I was standing on. Meg, as always, hurtled towards the thrown stick, her entire focus on reaching where it fell, all 34kg of her charging at about 20 mph, straight through me. Except of course, she did not go through me, she simply tried to go through me and instead bashed my leg with the log at great force. The log made contact with the side of my leg about 6 inches above the knee, then thudded to the ground when Meg dropped it to continue her charge.

The pain was immense. I cried out in agony, then found I couldn’t stop, and stood there, like a wild animal, howling. Meg took absolutely no notice at all. She ran to the thrown stick, picked it up, danced round the garden with it. When I managed to stop howling, I realised I needed to get to a seat because I felt very sick and dizzy and had pins and needles in both hands (was probably hyper-ventilating). I knew that if I sat/lay on the ground, Meg would bounce on me, and possibly kill me by bashing my head with the log. I hobbled to a garden seat, and sat there, trying to breathe, wondering if my thigh bone was broken, wondering how I was going to get into the house. Meg continued to dance around the garden, coming up to me a few times to entice me to try to get the stick. Her empathy level was nil, zero, zilch. Absolutely no awareness, whatsoever, that I was in agony. None. I have no idea how this compares to ‘normal’ dogs, but I know that Kia was fully aware of my mood at all times, and very attune to my emotions. Not Meg. I genuinely believe that if I dropped down dead she would not notice.

Luckily, Husband noticed my rather strange position on the bench and came into the garden to investigate. (Full empathy points there.) He helped me inside, put Meg somewhere safe, and we tried to sort out whether my leg needed any medical attention. It didn’t—nothing was broken, just incredibly painful. I think I probably bruised the bone, so just a matter of resting it for a few days and taking nurofen for the pain. (Which of course, is complicated by the fact that someone needs to sort out those ducklings, and to walk Meg.)

Thanks for reading. Take care.
Love, Anne x

PS. Leg healed after a few days. The ducklings survived and now live on the pond. Meg is still happily disrupting my life, and I am more careful about watching for bashings from big logs.

Highs and Lows with Meg

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Meg’s Diary 6/3/2025

We returned from a 2 week holiday and collected a happy Meg from the kennels. She is always happy. The kennel staff obviously know her well, and talked about how she insists on carrying the biggest log whenever she’s out, and that she’s very bouncy so they don’t allow the pregnant kennel worker anywhere near her! They told us she is still aggressive towards other dogs when walking on the lead (though not when in the kennel). I haven’t seen this, so not sure what to do. They said it happens when other dogs approach her and aren’t recalled by their owners. I guess as she is on the lead, it’s the responsibility of the other dog owners to recall their dogs. But it’s a shame. I have noticed that when we’re in the car, Meg no longer barks at every dog we pass. I hope this continues. She must have got used to seeing other dogs when in her kennel, so hopefully they have become ‘normal’ in her world.

Before we collected Meg, I felt a bit depressed—I wasn’t sure that I wanted her back, life is so much easier without her. I never felt like this with our other dogs. When she first came home, Meg pretty much ignored me, and was much more excited about going into the garden to greet the gardener than greeting me. This was a low point in our relationship. Later, we had a lovely walk together and I realised that actually, I am very fond of her, but it’s easy to forget that. I hand-fed her for a couple of days to encourage her to bond with me again. But if I am honest, unlike Kia (my ‘velcro-GSD’) Meg would be completely happy whoever she lived with. If I was ill and needed to rehome her, I would have no worries about her settling in, she would forget me as soon as she left the driveway! Perhaps this is what makes working GSD so suitable for police and army work—they focus on the task and are less attached to a single owner. Meg does follow me round the house, but only because there is not a better option. She is good company unless someone/thing is more exciting, and then she leaves me without a backward glance. I find this difficult. Though it does mean I don’t feel guilty putting her into kennels. (I also wouldn’t worry if she was stolen.)

We collected cat-with-snapped-tendon from Son. She was happy there, and did not want to come home. She now has the utility room, so no longer caged, and Meg is not supposed to go in there. Of course, Meg is not keen on this rule. She came in with me today, when I used the washing machine. The cat was on top of her cage, Meg put up her nose, Milly slapped her, repeatedly. I stroked Meg, praised her for being calm, moved her away before she lost all control and bounced on the cat. It’s such a shame they aren’t friends. They would both enjoy the company.

The weather is sunny. This makes life easier as there are less muddy footprints on my kitchen floor. But it means I worry about leaving Meg in the car for too long, so when I go out she needs to be in her cage at home. Although she seems very happy in her cage, I don’t like putting her in there. When I’m home, she is free in the house all the time now, unless her feet are muddy. So far she hasn’t destroyed anything. Mostly she sleeps in whichever room I am working in.

We were having some shrubs planted, and Husband needed to put sticks in the ground so the gardeners knew where to plant them. There was no way we could let Meg witness this—she would have gone back and collected the sticks, and then when the shrubs were planted she would associate them with sticks and go and collect them too. We put her in the hall, where she couldn’t see what was happening. So far, the shrubs have survived.

I like throwing sticks for Meg, but there’s always a danger that she’ll try to grab them when I pick them up (and would break my fingers, she is so strong). Therefore, she is meant to ‘wait’ when I stoop to pick up a stick. Sometimes she grabs them anyway, and then I stand, and wait for her to drop it before I will throw it. Meg understands this, and stands close, looking at me, determined to not release the stick, waiting for me to continue the game with a different stick. I always refuse, it feels important to never let Meg win when we have a stand-off. (This is probably why she prefers everyone else in the world to me—I am the only one who insists she obeys!) This week Meg kept grabbing at sticks (I’m guessing because no one stops her when she’s in kennels) and our walk was very slow—lots of standing, not looking at her, waiting for her to release the stick. She is very determined, and will stand for long minutes, refusing to obey. But I am more determined. One day, I hope she will simply obey—it will make life easier.

One afternoon was perfect. We walked in the woods, I threw sticks, Meg charged backwards and forwards chasing sticks (picture a torpedo, taking down anything that stands in the way). She came when I called and walked next to me on the lead, along the edge of the road but ignoring the cars. We drove into town, and I walked to pay the friend who feeds the poultry when I’m away. Meg carried a stick, and walked next to me, through the station car park, up some steps, along the main road (for 1 minute) and although she was on full-alert she did not chase the cars that passed us. Then we went to Mum’s, and she slept in the back of the car. Then played with a ball while I cooked dinner. In the evening she lay watching telly with us, chewing her chew. Such a lovely dog. Perfectly behaved.

I hope you have something perfect this week too. Thanks for reading.
Take care.
Love, Anne x

anneethompson.com
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Not a Great Week Here, How About You?

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This too shall pass. . .

Hello and how was your week? Mine was pretty rubbish to be honest, but I survived and by the time you read this (as I write blogs several weeks before I post them) I am sure all will be well again. But this week has been disappointing.

One disappointment is my cockerel, who is super-randy and sees everything else as a competitor to fight. Which means when anyone is in the garden, he starts to dance around them, ready to attack. It also means he attempts to copulate with anything he considers appropriate. He hurt Goose, so I moved him in with the chickens. He is so big and strong, he was damaging their heads (he holds onto the back of their head to keep them still while he ‘covers’ them) and one of my lovely white hens was so badly hurt she died. I now don’t know what to do. He was raised to be company for Goose, and they have been good friends—I love seeing them walking round the garden together, and at night they snuggle in the hay box. But he is currently too dangerous to be free. I have run out of safe places, because I have a mother duck and her ducklings in the spare cage. I am fond of him, so unwilling to eat him or leave him for the fox, but he is a problem.

When I first decided to move him, I shoved him into the duck house, just to keep him safe from the fox and the chickens safe from him. The duck house opens onto the pond. In the morning, I was extremely surprised to find him in the second duck house. This means he must have attempted to escape in the night, and tried to cross the pond—which involves swimming. Chickens cannot swim. He must have had a near-death experience! Silly thing. At least he will have learnt that he can’t swim. (He can fly, but he doesn’t seem to know that yet, and stays inside the fence.) My only solution is to leave him in the pond area during the day (because the ducks can swim away from him) and lock him into the nesting box at night (when the hens are roosting). But moving him is a lot of effort, and it won’t work when I go away, so it’s not a long-term solution.

Another major disappointment was receiving a form from university. It is an assessment form, and has 9 sections, each section is 4,000 words. I did not expect this until next summer, as I am part time, and I have not allowed time to complete it this month. This makes me very stressed. I am hoping it was sent in error, and I need to complete it in 2026, but I haven’t yet heard back from my supervisor. I am trying to be philosophical about this, and I am telling myself that if God wants me to complete the PhD, then as long as I work hard (which I am) all will be fine. But I am still stressed out!

One reason I have so little time is my venesections have started. I have to have a blood test 7 days beforehand (which wastes most of a morning due to delays in waiting rooms). The actual venesections are awful, mainly because they are in the oncology department, and it is very sad being with lots of brave people who are struggling with cancer. The staff are lovely, but the logistics of getting to hospital, and trying to park, and waiting until I can be seen (because health stuff always involves waiting) and then having blood removed for an hour is not my idea of fun. I am tired afterwards—I think mainly due to the stress of it all. And I know I am very fortunate that my condition is treatable, and I am grateful it was discovered in time, but it is still awful.

Not enjoying being a patient.

My last worry is the local election, when the Reform party won in my area. I find this extremely worrying. I am not political, but the only broadcast I have heard by Reform stated that: ‘we have too many immigrants. Most of them are young men. The majority are criminals.’ In my mind, this is hate-speech. This is the sort of rubbish Hitler was spouting in the 1930’s. It ignores the difference between immigrants and asylum-seekers. It ignores the fact that many immigrants are hard-working and our country needs them. It ignores the fact that if people are asking for asylum, and if they genuinely need it, we should be prepared to help them. In my opinion, the ‘criminals’ are the traffickers who bring them on unsafe transport, and the politicians who spread lies and fear. The Reform party have now said they will use their status (and the money that comes with it) to challenge the government so they are side-tracked from governing. This is not what I want my local councillor to do. It saddens me that this is happening. I also feel guilty, because I didn’t make the effort to vote in the local election. We need to start speaking against the mis-information and hate-speech, and we need to be sure to do our duty and vote.

As I said, by the time you read this, I expect my stress levels will have reduced and life will be calm again. Sometimes life is difficult, and we keep going until it’s better again. This too shall pass. Though I have no idea what to do with my randy cockerel.

Thanks for reading, I hope your week is better than mine.
Take care.
Love, Anne x

I will try to focus on the lovely ducklings instead. Their world is full of danger, but they simply get on with living with enthusiasm. They are my happy zone.
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anneethompson.com
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Meg’s Diary

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27/1/2025

We went to New York (this is January, before the tariffs), Meg went to kennels. She was happy enough to walk in, and greeted the staff like long-lost relatives, so I don’t feel guilty leaving her there. They take her for a walk each day, and she walks around the woods carrying logs (though she’s on a lead, so no chasing sticks).

However, when we collected her this time, they said she is aggressive towards other dogs, and lurches towards them when walking—though is fine when next to them in the kennel. This is a bit like when we drive—every dog we pass Meg barks at (it doesn’t make for peaceful journeys). I’m not sure what to do about it really, as she is fine when she’s with me in the woods.

Actually, she is brilliant in the woods. I forgot to take the lead yesterday, and I didn’t need it. I held a stick when I opened the boot, and Meg waited next to the car, watching to see where I would direct her. Other dog-owners were returning to the car park, and cars were whizzing along the main road, but Meg ignored them all. We had a lovely walk through the woods, I threw sticks, and called her when she got too far away, and she was completely obedient. We passed several other dogs, crossing paths with them, but whether they barked at her or not, Meg completely ignored them. Great. At the end of the walk I called her to heel, and we returned to the car (still no lead). I opened the boot, told Meg to jump in, and …nothing.

This has become a feature. When we return to the car, whether after a quick trip to the supermarket or a long walk round the woods, Meg refuses to get back into the car. She stands there, and looks at me. In her favour, she does not chase other cars or dogs, she just stands there, quietly waiting for me to take her for a longer walk. And I stand there, quietly waiting for her to jump into the car. Sometimes we stand there for a full 5 minutes, staring at each other, fully understanding what is being expected, refusing to give in. I usually break first, and practically choke her by trying to haul her into the boot. At which point she jumps nimbly in, giving me a withering ‘you have no patience’ look. Which is correct, I do not.

I’m not sure whether this counts as obedient or bad. She knows what I want, and doesn’t run away—but nor does she obey and get into the car. When I’m in a rush, it’s infuriating. I have started keeping dried fish treats in the car, as a bribe. The only change is that my car now stinks for fish, Meg still won’t get in.

Always carries the biggest stick she can find!
These were too big, but she tried.


14/2/2025

Meg has been fun this week. She is now fairly reliable when left alone in a room, and usually settles down near a radiator and snoozes. Only fairly reliable, as she did empty a plant all over the kitchen floor—so I wouldn’t leave her alone for too long, but gradually I am trusting her more.

I still cannot let her interact with my other animals though. I doubt she would hurt them on purpose, but she would definitely chase them, and might bounce them, which would be the equivalent to a truck landing on your head. When I’m sorting out the poultry, Meg rushes around, barking and trying to chase them through the side of the fence, which they find very upsetting. I realise I ought to spend time training her –taking her to the coop several times a day, and training her to sit or fetch her ball, thus teaching her to ignore the birds. But life is too busy, and it’s easier for now to just leave her in the kitchen whenever I need to be with the birds. Not ideal, but it works for now.

My other failure is chasing cars in the lane next to the garden. Whenever a car goes up the farm track, Meg charges at full speed along the fence line, trying to keep up with it. It’s good exercise I suppose, but it’s also reinforcing the drive to chase cars, which I really want to break her of—but I cannot be in the garden with her all the time, and there is no other way to stop her. I am telling myself (fully aware that I am probably lying to myself) that she can chase cars in the garden but can learn not to chase cars in other situations. I think this is untrue, but other solutions seem too difficult at this point. Maybe she will grow out of it.

When I return from my morning run, I usually spend some time training Meg. This is very simple—I lie on the lounge floor (where she is not allowed) doing my exercises, and Meg sits in the doorway. I have a ball, which she is not allowed to touch, and every few minutes I throw it, she retrieves it, I take it from her, put it on the floor and tell her to ‘leave!’ and then we start the whole exercise again. Today, Husband was working in the study, and I wasn’t sure throwing the ball up and down the hall would be quiet enough, so I decided to do my exercises on the landing carpet. Disaster! We went upstairs, Meg sat on the mat next to the radiator (her favourite place) I lay down on the floor and whump! A very happy German Shepherd dog landed on top of me! She was so excited, bouncing on me and licking my face, her tail smashing into anything in range as it swung backwards and forwards like a mad propeller. I couldn’t get her off me for ages, she is so strong, and was so excited that I was joining her on the carpet. I’m not quite sure what game she thought we were playing, but it clearly made her very happy. By the time I managed to stagger to my feet, I decided the wrestling match had been more than enough exercise for one day, so I went for a shower.

One afternoon this week, I was very tired but wanted to listen to an online lecture. So I took my phone to bed, and nestled into the pillows, ready for a sleepy listen. Meg followed me into the bedroom (where she is not allowed, but this happens more often than I like to admit) and lay down on the mat. She must have been tired too, because she started to snore. Then the lecture started, and I turned up the volume on my phone. Meg stopped snoring, and groaned. I ignored her. She groaned again. I ignored her. Then her head appeared alongside mine on the bed, and she stared at me, very pointedly, and groaned again. Clearly she was not appreciating the lecture on apologetics. She had a look in her eye that told me that if the noise didn’t stop, she might jump up onto the bed. Not to be encouraged. I took her downstairs, and listened to the lecture in a different room.

Usually when I work, Meg is very good. She lies on the carpet behind me, snoring and farting, with the occasional groan if I work for too long. It’s good (if smelly) company.

I hope you have some good (not smelly) company this week. Thanks for reading.
Take care.
Love, Anne x

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anneethompson.com
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