animals

Meg’s Diary, Christmas 2024

Posted by

0


Christmas 2024 (15 months old)

Watching telly in a rare calm moment.

Christmas was super-exciting, with a tree in the lounge and decorations which were not for chewing, and lots of visitors which were not for bouncing, and a complete abandonment of schedule which had to be coped with. All this was way too exciting for Meg, and she returned to the slightly-hyper, never listening mad dog of previous months. It was a shame, because I had just started to feel that Meg was exactly the dog I had hoped for, and her behaviour combined with Christmas chaos made me feel like one of us needed to be booked into the nearest mental institution!

However, to be fair, Meg did not destroy the tree or decorations. Nor did she steal any of the food that was left around the house. (Food is not her thing really, it’s no good as a reward for good behaviour, but it also means that she has never stolen food.) She was overly excited by all the guests, but it was a friendly, ‘perhaps I could leap on you to greet you’, sort of excitement—there was no fear or aggression in it. Due to the age (and therefore fragility) of some guests, Meg did have to spend longer than normal locked in her crate. She mostly coped with this very well—though I do wonder if it added to the general hyper-excitement when she was free. The main disappointment for me was that she pretty much stopped listening. When we were relaxing watching telly, if Meg started to wander around and I told her to sit, or to take her chew to her mat, she completely ignored me. This was a shame, especially as it meant that when I was really tired and wanted to stop, I had to put Meg back in her crate because I couldn’t rest while she was free.

The cat-with-snapped-ligament is still locked in her crate (she will be for a while). Both Meg and Milly are behaving badly when together, as even if I am with Meg and ensuring she is calm, the cat will hiss at her and try to scratch her through the bars, which then quickly becomes a general shouting/bouncing match. Over the Christmas period there were times when I needed to use the utility room while Meg’s paws dried (and Milly had been moved in there as we needed to use the dining room and the smell of a cat litter tray is not a good accompaniment to a meal!) If Meg was in there after a walk—when she tends to be sleepy—then after an initial bounce/bark/hiss there was peace. This is good. Whilst they are not friends, or to be trusted for long together, there was certainly some kind of truce. It is a start.

I usually walk Meg in the woods, which is a popular place for dog-walkers (and the occasional horse rider) so it’s a good place for Meg to socialise. By ‘socialise’ I mean ‘learn to ignore other animals,’ not ‘go and play with them.’ I learnt this at puppy classes—I need to teach Meg that not everything is her business, and rushing up to an unknown dog is not acceptable behaviour. When there are sticks (and the woods has a steady supply) then Meg is now excellent at this. We can pass other dogs and their owners, and Meg walks with me, fully focussed on the stick in my hand, ignoring the dog/horse/deer that is passing. However, other owners clearly never attended such good puppy classes (or the dogs are less easy to train—though that seems unlikely in Meg’s case!) Fairly frequently, another dog will run up to Meg and some of them are aggressive. I have grown fearful of small dogs (it always seems to be the little dogs that snarl and show their teeth) and especially Spaniels. We have had some very bad interactions with Spaniels. Just before Christmas, we were walking through the woods which were beautiful with morning mist, and a black Spaniel came towards us. It looked young, and was darting through the trees, and I wondered, as we approached, whether she would play with Meg. I was throwing sticks, Meg was leaping over fallen trunks and into craters to retrieve them. Suddenly, without warning, the black Spaniel changed direction and chased after Meg. At first I thought it was joining in our stick-chasing game, but no, it trapped Meg next to a bush, growled and snarled and showed its teeth. The owner yelled at it, but there was no response. I called Meg, who managed to get past the Spaniel and run to me, and we began to walk away. At first the Spaniel followed, and I wondered whether I would be bitten (and to be honest, I measured the distance I would need to give it a big kick if it started to leap at me) but then it stopped, and returned to its yelling owner. I have no idea whether this was an unusual occurrence for this particular dog, but I am suspicious that some owners ought to put their dog on a lead if they are near other dogs but they choose not to. Which is a shame for everyone.

Meg in the car, with the sticks she keeps for emergencies!

Thanks for reading. I hope your Christmas was good, and exciting but not hyper!
Have a good week. Take care.
Love, Anne x

Meg’s Diary: Up to 11 Months

Posted by

1


15/7/24

I feel that Meg has changed. She is still challenging, but we have come to an understanding, and I feel she is slightly calmer. Very slightly. I am also trying to have her out of her crate for longer. This has mixed results. In the evening, we now watch telly in the lounge, while Meg chews a bone in the doorway. She knows she must not enter the room (or she gets sprayed with water!) and she is happy, watching us, and chewing her bone. During the day, if left for more than a minute, she will find her own entertainment. Today she was left for 5 minutes (washroom visit) and she found a newspaper and ripped it to shreds. That didn’t matter, but if it had been one of my plants, or a cushion, it would have been very annoying. We are getting to where I hope to be, but slowly.

Walking is easier because I don’t attempt to walk near roads. We go to the woods, and she stays near me, and comes when called (even if I do have to shout ‘Stick!’) so putting her back on the lead is reliably do-able. She will do anything for a stick.


10/8/24,

Meg is definitely calmer than she was. Not ‘calm’ but calmer than the completely hyper monster that she was a few months ago. I am also better at knowing what she can cope with.

In July, I went away for a week, and a son and his partner lived in the house with Meg. When I got home, I was greeted with a happy, calm dog. They had basically played with her for most of every day, and let her run free in the garden, and she had learnt to sleep on the kitchen floor when she was tired. The garden was a mess, with several pots shredded, but it seemed a good tactic. It was lovely to return home to a happy dog. I was however, disappointed by her reaction when she first saw me. There are some people who she is super-excited to see, so excited that she pees on the floor and does laps of the garden. Me, on the other hand, she wagged her tail for, and then went back to shredding the large log she had carried onto the lawn. She was sort-of pleased to see me, but definitely not super-excited. I am in charge of the home, so maybe that makes me more of an annoyance in her eyes than someone to have fun with–because if I wasn’t here, she would probably be in charge. I don’t know. It’s so different to Kia, who was part of me and would have died for me—whereas I have a sneaky suspicion that Meg might be secretly pleased if I disappeared because then she could do whatever she wanted.

On 31st July, we went to meet someone at the airport. I brought Meg, thinking it would be excellent training to walk through a crowded airport. It didn’t quite go to plan, because although she walked into the lift happily, they were broken, so we had to use the stairs. When we entered the stairwell, Meg froze. Four paws on the ground, not going anywhere. We didn’t have time to teach her how to use stairs, so Husband went to the arrivals hall, and I walked round the car park with Meg. It was still good training, walking past lots of people with luggage and moving cars, and going in and out of the stairwell. But not as good as I had hoped. We will work on stairs, and spooky stairwells.

Meg now walks through the woods on the lead very nicely, and we go every morning. When she’s off the lead, she happily greets other dogs, but she tends to chase them, and other owners get anxious, so I mainly keep her on the lead. We have met deer a few times when she was free, and I grabbed a stick, and led her away, and she absolutely prefers a stick to chasing a deer. I have no idea why. I’m worried that with so many deer, there are probably ticks, so I’m careful about keeping her flea/tick drops up to date, and I use insect repellent. (Ticks carry Lyme disease, and that can be dangerous for people.)

Every evening, Meg chews her bone in the hall while we relax in the lounge. She is very good, knows the routine, and does not attempt to enter the room (well, not very far). This is nice, I like having her around.

I started tempting her up and down the stairs with her ball. She’s hesitant, but getting used to using stairs in the house. Mostly, she will do anything for a ball. I still try to hand-feed her most of her food, and practise calling her, and teaching her to walk to heel. It’s all great unless there’s a distraction, and then she is still terrible. I can get her to sit near the main road and concentrate on a treat rather than the cars, but not yet in our lane. She still hares up and down the garden fence if a car goes up the farm lane.

Next week we go to Rome, and for the first time, Meg will go into kennels. I think she’ll enjoy it, she is very sociable. I am so looking forward to the break.

11 Months


12/8/24

I have started to keep Meg on the lead for longer, because I am more relaxed and it makes the walk more enjoyable. She has lots of time to run free in the garden, and walks are more for mental stimulation. Today, in the brief time that she was free, we met 3 large black Labradors. I think they were all males. Meg bounced up to the first one—and I didn’t attempt to stop her because they were a similar size to her, so wouldn’t be bounced, and they were Labradors so must be friendly. Except they weren’t (friendly—that is, they were Labradors!) The first one raised his hackles, obviously not keen to be greeted by an impertinent young female. The other two surrounded her, and before I knew it, Meg was lying on the floor while the Labrador owner shouted at her dogs. Meg managed to get up, and started to run, so I called her, and she came near enough to grab. (Not, of course, running directly to me, but sort of in my general direction, which is usually the best I can hope for.) At no point had Meg yelped, and in my experience, dogs yelp at the smallest discomfort, so I’m pretty sure the encounter was about dominating her rather than attacking her. The owner was extremely apologetic, but I wasn’t sure it was necessarily a bad experience for Meg. It might be good for her to learn that racing up to a big dog is not always a good idea. And as I say, there didn’t seem to be any viciousness to it, the Labradors were just making sure she knew her place in the pack—which was at the bottom!

We continued our walk on the lead. It’s really hot, so the whole world was walking their dogs early, and we met lots of people. When they saw Meg on the lead, most people called their dogs, thinking she was unfriendly, so I started to call to them, explaining she was friendly but super-bouncy. They then relaxed, and I worked on training Meg to sit while the other dog approached her, and I had little chats with the owners and it was all very sociable. Meg was friendly to all the dogs that passed us, so the earlier encounter with the Labradors had obviously not affected her badly.

It’s hard to keep Meg cool in this weather, and she pants continually. I can’t wet her, because she hates the hose, but I have wet her bedding, so she can lie on cool damp towels. Not that she does of course, she picks them up and runs round the kitchen with cool damp towels! But I tried.

She is getting better at stairs already. Today I put her ball on increasingly higher steps, and she walked right to the top of the flight without a problem. Coming down is more precarious, because she tries to leap the last few steps—which would be dangerous if she was on the lead—so I will keep teaching her to go slowly up and down. (And is quite dangerous if anyone stands near, as they might get a flying German Shepherd land on their head.) She’s fun to teach, because she learns so quickly. Just as long as she doesn’t kill someone by mistake…

Thanks for reading. Have a safe week.
Love, Anne x

Walking calmly next to the trolley
Waiting outside the supermarket
Focussed on a stick!
Action shot

Meg’s Diary: Travels with a Mad Dog

Posted by

2


21/6/2024
Given the success of our beach trip yesterday, we decided to repeat it. There’s a free car park near the beach, and we were lucky enough to find a space amongst all the families and dog walkers. There were lots of both. There is then a short walk to the beach, which hardly needs a lead, unless you own a mad dog like Meg.

The first part of the beach has lots of people. Families playing, children making sandcastles, the odd daring swimmer. This seems to continue along the whole of the sandy beach. But if you walk to the right, before long the sand gives way to black rocks and giant pebbles, and not many people venture that way, which makes it much better with Meg.

After reaching the beach, I found a stick (magic wand that keeps her focussed) and we strode over the sand, away from other people. Meg was very good, and we managed to avoid bouncing anyone or chasing balls belonging to other dogs. We made it to a relatively secluded area—which is good—but I must admit, it is exhausting. It takes a lot of mental energy, constantly looking ahead for potential dangers/distractions, guiding her across the beach, keeping her free but not too far away. I could have her on the lead, but she would pull my arm off, so that would be worse.

We had a happy time once we reached the rocks. There were pools of water, and I’m guessing some were fresh water because Meg drank from them (she tested all the water to see if it was salty, but only drank from a few pools). Plus, some pools had tadpoles, and I am pretty sure that no frog/toad can cope with salty water. It was an unusual thing to find on the beach, and a later online search suggested they might be lump fish, but I am pretty positive they were tadpoles (I collected buckets of the things when I was a child). The rocks are black, often covered with white lichen, and they were nice to walk across, mostly being large and flat, rough where the sea had worn their porous surface. There were occasional streams, but we were wearing wellies, so that was easy.

We walked for about a mile, then turned and retraced our steps. Meg was very happy, collecting sticks of driftwood and jumping over the rocks. She managed to pass some pretty big distractions—a Labrador chasing a frisbee, a small yappy dog being introduced to paddling, children playing a ball game. And then, just before we reached the entrance to the car park, it all went horribly wrong. There were two small black dogs, playing a game of chase, and a family group sitting near the dunes, and a man running towards the sea, and suddenly it was all too much for Meg, and she stopped concentrating on me and the stick, and charged across the beach towards the little dogs. I called her. She was deaf. I tried running away, madly waving the stick. She did not care in the slightest. The whole beach stopped and stared in disapproval at the inept woman and her out-of-control dog. I didn’t blame them. Terrible behaviour.

Seconds before it all went wrong!

Meg ran in circles for a while, and the owner of the two small dogs picked them up, and other people called their (obedient) children and dogs to them, and I felt a complete failure. Meg however, was having a great time, dashing between different families, splashing through water, leaping to try and catch other people’s balls, or dogs, or children. Her whole body was delighted, she was having such fun! We caught her eventually, and dragged her off to the car. She has a look, which I cannot describe, but I can see in her eyes that she doesn’t care a jot and will challenge anything I say.

We arrived at the car, opened the boot, and directed her to jump into it. She just stared through me. Husband suggested lifting her in, but I felt it was important to win this one, so we just stood there, staring at each other, offering a treat if she jumped in but not moving a muscle. We might have stood there all day. It was a lot like facing off a teenage boy. Eventually she jumped in, and received the treat, and we shut the door. I cling on to the hope that it will all get easier, and the effort will result in a pet I can love. But it’s a long journey.

Hope you manage to cope with whatever happens in your world this week (and hopefully all your problems are as minor as a naughty dog). Thanks for reading.
Take care.
Love, Anne x

anneethompson.com
*****

Meg’s Diary: Meg is Annoying in Scotland continued…

Posted by

0


15/6/2024
I went for a run along the lane, and I took Meg as there is rarely any traffic. It was okay—quite hard work because she always pulls slightly harder than is comfortable, even when she’s wearing the lead-of-shame (without it, she is uncontrollable). But at least it gave her something interesting to do.

The weather was good—high clouds and pale blue sky with a watery sun. The forecast was dry for the morning, so we drove to Stonehaven and parked in the town car park (which is free, but very full, so we were lucky to find a space). It’s a pretty town, with a long quay and stone houses, but it’s also very attractive to tourists so it’s busy. We parked next to an Italian family.

We followed signs and walked towards Dunnottar Castle. Meg was annoying. Sometimes (often) she’s very good in busy places, as there’s so much to distract her that she doesn’t pull. Not today. Every car or dog we passed, she lurched towards it, and even on the empty stretches she was pulling fairly hard. I know that I should stop and not move, when she pulls, but then we would never get anywhere—it’s not like it teaches her not to pull. Maybe when she’s older.

We climbed the steep hill behind the town, and followed the footpath along the top of the cliffs. The weather was good—cold but sunny—and we soon rounded a corner and could see the castle, perched on the rock. Unfortunately, Meg was too annoying, and the path was too busy for me to let her run free, so it was all rather stressful. But it was pretty.

In the afternoon we drove to Inverbervie beach. It was busy again, and the beach was shingle, so not great for walking along. Meg seemed happy and collected bits of driftwood, but I was too tired to enjoy it. After a short walk, we went up to the High Street and I waited outside Co op while Husband stocked up on bread and juice. Meg was awful. Barking and leaping at traffic. It’s weird—some days she is just annoying, all day long.

We ate at The Anchor in Johnshaven again. They have such a brilliant chef, the food is delicious. I had the lobster, and Husband splashed out on a fish platter (because when you find someone who knows how to cook fish, in a fishing village, you eat fresh fish). All delicious. Meg was at home, in her crate. That’s one good thing with her—I keep her routine fairly stable (same food, same timetable, bed with a Dentistix) and in return, I can put her crate in a different place every night if I want and she is happy to stay in it. I know she’ll be fine—no worried barking, no nerves, no signs of anxiety at all. She’s good at that.

20/6/2024
We drove from Scotland to Chatton, via Edinburgh. I was very keen to see something of the city, to wander through the streets, daydream in the parks, see a few sights. It was not to be. Driving and parking in the centre of any city is stressful, and it wasn’t as easy to find a space this time. Meg was very good in the car, and lay silently in her crate. But we were stressed. Then when we eventually parked, and took Meg out, she was a pain. Unlike last visit, she was super-hyper, lurching at traffic, wanting to interfere with other dogs (there were a surprising number of dogs in the city centre). On the plus side, she toileted when I took her to grass and told her to, and she wasn’t frightened of anything, not even a fire-engine that zoomed past with sirens blasting and lights flashing. But she did try to chase it.

We took her into a cafe next to the Christian bookshop on The Mount. I’m not sure if the bookshop run the cafe, but they might—they were very welcoming and there were signs saying that non-customers could use their toilets, but please keep them clean (I liked that). We sat at a group of sofas in the corner, and tried to pretend that Meg was well-behaved. She didn’t bark, but she was antsy. In the end we took it turns to eat, one of use keeping Meg close and stroking her, while the other one was free to eat. It was okay, but I’ve had more pleasant lunches in cafes. The food itself was nice, and they were very welcoming to dogs and even brought over a bowl of water (which we declined, because her favourite trick is to throw the water everywhere).

We walked up to the castle, and through crowds of people, and I tried to keep her away from all the men wearing kilts (because she likes to lick bare legs, and I wasn’t sure this would be appreciated). There was a man playing bagpipes, and we stood and listened, and Meg didn’t join in, but I could tell she was thinking about it. (At home, she howls when she hears bagpipes!) Then we had an argument about crossing the road, and whether I could ‘nip across’ when I’m with the dog, and how it was all proving rather stressful and not at all relaxing and fun, so we abandoned Edinburgh and drove to the next cottage. I will visit again one day, without the dog, and do the whole meandering thing that I wanted to do this time. One day.

The drive to Chatton was smooth, and we arrived at The Old Stables House, which is beautiful. The village is very sweet—not unlike villages in the Cotswolds—and the cottage (which was once old stables) was right next to The Percy’s Arms. The house is lovely, and very practical for the dog. The back garden is completely enclosed and safe, inside there are hardwood and tiled floors, which I covered with various towels to avoid muddy footprints. Most importantly, there is a washing machine and tumble dryer, so I could remove the dog-stink from all our clothes.

We took Meg for a walk, following a footpath across fields. There are lots of livestock, so she couldn’t run free. She was also very bad next to the road, even though the traffic is fairly slow in the village, so I was cross with her. We had planned to take her to the pub when we ate there, and had booked a table in the dog-friendly part, but I decided I needed a break, so she stayed in her crate in the house.

Today, we took Meg to Bamburgh Castle beach. The castle is huge, and looms over the beach looking like something from a fairy story. There were several people on the beach (we have been rather spoilt, and are used to empty beaches now) but Meg was good, and I could distract her with a stick, and guide her away from other people and dogs. We had a nice walk, over yellow sand and black rocks, and the sun shone on us, and the waves lapped next to us, and it was lovely. Meg was happy. I like a happy dog. We even managed to pose her, on a rock, with the castle in the background.

We have also managed to persuade her to jump into her car crate. She stopped doing this for a while, just staring at us when we told her to get up. (How does a dog manage to look insolent?) We have resorted to lumps of dried cod and lots of praise, and now she has agreed to do it again. (Tbh, sometimes I make my voice ultra happy and praise-like while swearing at her. She only understands the tone.) I don’t much enjoy the ‘teenage’ stage of a dog’s life.

I hope you find life easy this week. Thanks for reading.
Take care.
Love, Anne x

anneethompson.com
*****

Meg in Scotland

Posted by

0


We grabbed a sandwich next to New College, Edinburgh University, and then drove north, to a cottage near Fordoun. It’s basically in the middle of countryside. Disappointingly, the ‘fully fenced’ garden was a lie. There were a few small plants indicating the boundary of the garden, but no fence at all. Which means I cannot let Meg outside unless she’s on the lead, especially as there are lambs in the field next to the house. We had a stake and a line we can attach her to, but as she has a tendency to dig when bored, I dare not leave her outside for long. Shame. (We often use Airbnb, this one was disappointing–usually they’re great! The owner had not exactly lied, but had certainly been less than honest.)

The cottage is tiny. It may have been a double garage in a previous existence, with a conservatory added. The owner seems to have gone to the local garden centre and bought all sorts of statues and pictures and cute house decorations, but then not known where to put them. There are random things everywhere, and it just looks crowded. It is also well-equipped, but again, everything crammed onto every worksurface and stuffed into every cupboard, so there is nowhere to put our own things. It is a little odd, and not very comfortable. But it’s warm, and there are beautiful views from the window, so it’ll be okay. We’re here for 6 days.

We’re trying to teach Meg that she is only allowed in the kitchen area, and not down the step into the sitting area. It’s stressful. She clearly understands, and clearly disagrees, so has started a game of throwing things into the banned area and then barking at them until we return them—and then throwing them down again. I am not enjoying this game. It’s hard to ignore her high-pitched yap, but we’re trying.

14/6/2024
We started the day with a trip to a supermarket in Laurencekirk. Husband stayed outside with Meg, and I nipped in to do the shopping. We didn’t need much, but it still took ages—always a hassle shopping in an unfamiliar supermarket. Meg was very good, and was sitting outside when I emerged, looking very professional (Meg, not me—I probably looked rather stressed!)

We stayed round the cottage for the morning. Meg alternated between the kitchen (trying to stop her walking down the steps to the sitting area) and her cage (when I needed a break) and the garden, where she is fastened to the long line. She’s good in the garden, and watches the birds. There’s a nest somewhere, and house martins swoop near her, and she sits, bolt upright, watching them. But I don’t leave her too long— a bored Meg is a bad Meg.

After lunch we drove to St. Cyrus beach. The car park was down the cliff, and we had to drive along a very narrow, very steep lane, with no passing places and lots of bends. Luckily we didn’t meet anyone. The car park is part of the nature reserve, and it was fairly full even on a rainy Friday afternoon.

We followed the signs, staying on the footpaths and not trespassing on all the nesting birds (lots of warning signs) over a narrow wooden bridge, up a sand dune, and then—wow! A beach, long and wide, and completely deserted. Does no one in the North go to beaches? Maybe the rain puts them off. We loved it. Husband has hurt his back, and the sand was very soft, so he stayed near the dunes, while Meg and I strode across the beach. Our feet sank into the soft sand, leaving deep footprints. It was good exercise. For a while Husband and I alternated calling Meg, and she sped between us, burning off energy as she bounced across the sand. But then she got tired and lost interest, so I called her to me and she stayed close, sniffing the pebbles and dried crabs and bits of bright green seaweed. There were trees that had washed up as driftwood—whole trees, like the skeletons of whales, stark against the dark sky. I wondered where they had come from, and why the had washed up there, all of them, like a prearranged meeting place for drowned trees. It rained on us, and the wind blew against us, and the sea thundered next to us, and it was wonderful.

We put the dog—and quite a lot of the sand—into the boot, and drove back to the cottage. I made tea while Husband checked what time the football started, and Meg snored, very loudly, in her crate.

We ate at The Anchor in Johnshaven. They have the best seafood—lobsters, and fresh haddock, with rhubarb crumble or banana fritters for pudding. (They even have a doggy menu! We (not Meg) shared the soup to start, and tasted each other’s dinners while we ate, and I drank red wine, and it was a lovely end to a rainy day.

Thanks for reading. Have a great day and take care.

Love, Anne x

Meg at Gleneagles

Posted by

1


11/6/2024
We continued our journey north. After packing up the Northumberland cottage, we drove back to Cresswell for some exercise before our next long drive. This time the beach was full, lots of people and dogs, everyone out for their morning walk. We let Meg run free, but every time she started to run towards another dog, I called her back and waved a stick or kicked a pebble, and she stayed near to us the whole time, ignoring the other dogs. Some dogs ran up to her, and she was friendly, but always followed us as we walked on. She is very sociable for a German Shepherd—let’s hope it continues.

We stopped a couple of times during the journey, and Meg was very good—we were still on the A1, but it was quieter, and the stops were more peaceful. Early afternoon, we arrived at the Gleneagles Hotel, where Husband had a work conference.

The hotel is big, and beautiful, and it allows dogs (and horses, if you want to take your horse on holiday!) We could have taken Meg into our room (with an additional cleaning charge) but we thought it would be easier to book her into the kennels. I am cautious about kennelling a young dog—it doesn’t take many bad experiences to change a character, and I would hate for Meg to be kennelled next to an aggressive dog. However, this was fine. The kennels were more a room in a separate block, with individual locks, and beds and bowls provided. We were responsible for feeding and exercising Meg, and taking her out so she could toilet. She was the only dog inside, so no danger of being threatened by a dog-bully. Outside, were the hotel’s working Labradors, who barked every time we passed, but that was okay. The staff were friendly, and said how beautiful and friendly Meg is (I suspect they say this to all owners). They lock the kennels at 10 pm, so we needed to toilet her before then, and they unlock at 8am, and take her out so that guests can enjoy breakfast before taking over. That is longer than Meg is usually left at night, so I hoped she would be okay. We exercised her, and then went to prepare for dinner.

Dinner at Gleneagles is an event. They have two Michelin stars, and honestly, it is the most delicious dinner I have ever eaten. We sat at large round tables, with candles and flowers all around, and the waiters brought trolley after trolley, offering Champagne, then wine, carving a beef wellington, adding caviar to a cod steak, explaining the taste of various cheeses, preparing crepe suzettes with flavours and flames. I ate and drank far too much, but I only had to walk upstairs, so it was fine. (Husband kindly did the last Meg shift.)

Our room was very luxurious, though was quite a long walk from reception (I don’t think it was one of their better rooms!) It had a desk and two easy chairs, and a huge telly. There was a cabinet offering free tea and coffee, bottles of water, and shortbread biscuits—and a cupboard displaying over-priced snacks that we could buy. The bathroom had double sinks, and a shower, and a huge free-standing claw-footed bath. The loo was in a separate room. There were toiletries, and dressing gowns and slippers, and—most importantly—plenty of plug sockets for phones and computers. Unfortunately, the pillows were very fat, but I had brought my nice flat pillow in the car (because hotels always seem to have very fat pillows).

Our Room
Meg’s Room

12/6/2024
I didn’t sleep much—probably due to too much food and drink. I showered (marvellous shower—the water pressure wasn’t painful, but there was so much water a deluge of it, soaking me instantly). Went down for breakfast. Gleneagles has the best food. There was everything. We were offered fresh orange juice, and coffee, and I ordered buttermilk pancakes with smoked almonds and maple syrup. While waiting, we visited the buffet: displays of fresh fruit, and pastries, yogurts, cereals, every kind of cooked breakfast food, various breads and cakes. I filled a bowl with fresh strawberries (perfectly ripe) and Greek yogurt (perfectly creamy) and waited for my pancakes. Husband, who usually eats everything, restricted himself to sourdough bread with smoked salmon and poached egg, and another slice with bacon and mushrooms (proper mushrooms—hotels often use the nasty tinned variety). The coffee arrived in a silver pot, and we sat in a light conservatory filled with flower arrangements. Such a treat.

Dining Room
Breakfast Room
Posh Washroom

Husband then went off to work, and I returned to the room and was slightly ill (due to unusual food and too many nerves—because even though I can control my outside with lots of prayer and self-control, my insides get stupidly anxious when we travel. I tell you this in case you can relate—we like to hide our imperfections, but everyone has them, even in the near-perfection that is Gleneagles. You might think you are alone with your problems, but you are not.) I then prepared for the next day, and went to check Meg.

Meg seemed fine. I spoke to the kennel staff, who said she had been clean and dry when they arrived, and was pleased to see them. She commented that Meg is very quiet, which pleased me. We try hard not to respond whenever Meg barks, trying to teach her that barking does not result in whatever it is that she wants, training her to be quiet. (So if she wants to go outside, she sits quietly next to the door and looks at me… Occasionally… On a good day… Mostly she bounces at it, bounces at me, bounces at the door again, and then sits and looks at me. Work in progress.)

 I took Meg for a walk around the grounds, avoiding all the golf areas, and then, because I had been told that I could, I took her into the hotel. Meg walked beside me, over thick carpets, past all the guests waiting to check-in. We then walked along corridors lined with little shops selling expensive watches and jewellery and the sort of clothes that other, richer, people wear. The lights were dim, and the air was perfumed, and Meg plodded quietly next to me. I didn’t attempt the stairs, because we haven’t learnt stairs yet and I worried she might leap down them and pull me crashing behind her (which would cause quite a stir amongst the smart guests and the attentive staff!) We had a hiccup when we left, because a man had a Labrador next to the entrance, and Meg has obviously now decided that Labradors should be barked at (because that is what the hunting dogs in the pens outside her kennels do). So we walked quietly through the door, and then had a loop-out when we saw the dog. I calmed her, and managed to get her attention, and we left—not looking quite as professional as I hoped.

The grounds are beautiful. There is a vintage Rolls Royce parked in the driveway, and neat lawns with chairs next to an outside bar. Stone steps link various terraces, and low walls divide the lawns. There are mature trees and lakes with fountains and beds filled with lavender and poppies. In the valley is the golf course, and behind the hotel are tennis courts. An area to one side houses the kennels, and a caged ferret and birds of prey. Beyond the grounds are hills covered in heather and trees.

13/6/2024
We collected Meg from her kennel for the final time. It was noteworthy that she ate a lot last night—up until now she has eaten very little and ignored her chew. I guess she didn’t want to eat until things were familiar and she relaxed a little.

I have been very pleased with her. The kennel staff all commented on how friendly she was. Whenever we walk past the working Labs, they fling themselves at the cage wall and bark. Meg has managed to walk past them, not barking back (mostly) and concentrating on me and where we’re going. She has also been clean/dry for the long hours (10pm-8am) that she was locked inside. We put Meg into the car, and she fell asleep almost immediately.

Thanks for reading. I will tell you what happened next in another blog. Thanks for reading. I hope you have a good week.
Take care.
Love, Anne

anneethompson.com
*****

Meg’s Diary: Trip to Scotland

Posted by

0


10/6/2024
Today was very long, but very satisfying. It started early, with a trip to the vet with cat-with-swollen-eye, then we finished packing the car, shoved Meg into her crate in the boot, and set off. Meg had woken antsy (some days she does—I haven’t discovered why) so she hadn’t eaten anything. But given her car sickness of the past, I decided this might be good.

Meg is always very good in the car. We ignore her—because I don’t want to encourage a ‘conversation’ whereby she barks to let me know she wants to stop. I am pretending that we cannot hear each other, and whether it’s due to that or just because she happens to like travelling, she is always silent and seems happy. However, I didn’t want to risk changing this happy equilibrium, so I requested that we never drove for more than 2 hours without stopping for a brief walk and a drink.

We drove up the M11 to the A1, and on to Northumberland. We stopped briefly at services, and Meg was excellent each time. She especially excelled at one, particularly busy service station, as it allowed dogs into the main concourse (most had signs saying guide dogs only). I therefore decided to walk her through the crowds (good dog training exercise). We walked through the sliding doors, following crowds of people, past various eateries with noise and smells, edging past legs of people waiting in line, past the entrance to the washrooms (more smells, and people) past a casino area, with noisy slot machines and teenaged boys shouting, and out the sliding door of the exit. Meg was brilliant! She walked closely by my side, alert but not jumpy or barking, noticing but not distracted. We walked through the area twice. I was so pleased with her. I also took her to areas of grass where she could toilet, but she was much too interested in all the smells and cars moving, and didn’t toilet once the whole journey. I hoped it wouldn’t be unhealthy (not much more I could do really).

We arrived at a little cottage in Ulgham that we had booked to break the journey. It had a tiny garden which was gravel—Meg likes to toilet on grass, so she still didn’t pee. (I am not usually interested in the toilet habits of my animals, but it is rather a feature of travel with a dog.) I tried walking her in the lane, but the cottage backed onto a railway, right next to the crossing, and there were fast trains from Edinburgh speeding to London every 10 minutes, so even though there was grass, Meg was much too intent on lurching towards trains. (Not so perfect.)

As there was a coast 5 minutes away, we put her back in the car and drove to Cresswell. Parked next to the road and walked through sand dunes to the beach. It was beautiful. The sky was heavy with rain, and no one else was on the beach. Sand stretched in both direction, huge waves billowed towards the beach, the grass on the dunes hissed in the wind. Most importantly, Meg made use of the facilities! Yaay! Back to the cottage.

The cottage was beautiful. It had obviously been recently renovated, and the owners had taken such care, and been very generous with what they provided. There was coffee and tea and biscuits, with fresh milk in the fridge, and bowls of chocolates, plus all the soaps/tissues/linen that we could need. The furniture was comfy, and there were warm throws and fat cushions and careful decorations. It was lovely. The proximity to the railway could have been annoying if Meg had decided to bark every time a train passed—and the trains did wake me in the night—but we sort of got used to them, and as long as they were out of sight, Meg ignored them. She ate and drank, and seemed very calm (well, as calm as she ever is).

We ate at the Widdrington Inn. It was actually quite nice (I was worried because we sat opposite the kitchen door, and I could see several floppy-haired young men preparing the food, which rang all sorts of food hygiene alarm bells!) But other than the sticky table, all seemed clean, and we had a nice meal. We had left Meg in her crate, in the cottage, because it’s never relaxing trying to eat when she is with us, even though we are trying to take her more often.

After dinner we collected Meg and drove back to the beach. This time we found a car park, and the tide was further out, so there was more sand. We still only saw a couple of people, so it was wonderfully relaxing, and we strode along the sand for an hour while Meg danced alongside us, investigating seaweed and rocks and the taste of seawater. The sea was stormy and the sky was huge, and all felt right with the world.

It wasn’t a great night’s sleep, because I woke when the trains whooshed past, and it was lighter than at home, and I was cold. But Meg was quiet all night, and seemed fine in the morning when I let her out of her crate.

Next stop Gleneagles. Husband has a work conference, me and Meg tagging along. I’ll tell you about it next week. Thanks for reading.
Have a great day.
Take care.
Love, Anne x

****

anneethompson.com
****

I Nearly Kill Meg

Posted by

0


Today started well. I persuaded Husband to come to Oxted with me, and help me to get Meg to walk through the underpass—the scary tunnel under the station. I have tried it a few times recently, and although she will walk down the ramp, she absolutely refuses to walk a single step into the underpass. This has been annoying, as when she was smaller she did it without a flicker, but she has grown more stubborn/wary with age. I need her to be able to walk through tunnels and enclosed spaces, before I can take her on the train.

We parked in Morrissons, and Meg walked through all the moving cars with no trouble at all. I’m not sure if it’s the speed of the traffic on the main road that triggers her reaction, or if it has become an ingrained response on that road. But in other situations, she seems much better with traffic. She also walks through groups of people, and shopping trolleys, and shop doors without reacting—all good. There was a collie tied up outside (not Leo) and it watched Meg—who stopped—stared—followed me past. Phew! Hopefully that positive encounter will balance the Leo experience. [You might need to refer to last week’s blog to understand this.]

At the underpass, we copied the routine that Sue (puppy trainer) had advised for the tunnel in Devon. Husband went ahead with a treat, stopped on the ramp. We walked to him, took the treat, immediately turned away (Meg understands the ‘Turn!’ command) and returned to the top of the ramp. Gradually Husband got nearer to the entrance, then a step into the underpass, then several feet inside. We kept going (with lots of funny looks from the Saturday morning shoppers!) until Meg was happily walking right through the underpass. We walked back without a flicker, and even ventured along the tunnel to the car park through the massive fire doors, and into the underground car park with all its echoes and smells and shadows. Meg was fine, alert but not resisting. I love when something works. I will practice a few times this week, and hopefully it will become mundane.

When we got home, I decided to have coffee in the garden, to celebrate our success. Huband made hot buttered toast, and I made coffee, and we carried them outside to watch Meg while she played. Meg bounced up to us, almost spilling the coffee. We sent her away and she ripped up a weed from the garden, then ran off to destroy a log on the lawn. We chatted for a few minutes, then started to discuss the cherry trees that Husband is training to grow over an archway. We moved to look at them, Meg came to join in, and started to destroy the lower branches of one of the trees. So annoying. I guess it was our mistake, for drawing her attention to the tree by looking at it when she was there. But sometimes we do make mistakes, and it seems that Meg always makes us regret it. She is too much. What a shame, after such a good morning. I put her in her crate with a chew, and went to clean out the chickens.

8 Months Old

I wanted to attend a seminar at college, and Husband was in London all day. I decided it was slightly longer than I’m comfortable leaving Meg alone, so I took her. I left home earlier than usual and drove to South Norwood. Meg was fine on the journey (she’s always good in the car and notices different things to me—a few times each journey there will be a low growl, or a bark, from the back, and I realise she has spotted a dog that needs sorting out!)

I went to the college office and asked whether I could park in the staff area, as it was shady. It was sunnier than when I left home, and I worried that even with a window open, it might get too hot in the car. They assured me it would be okay to park in a staff area, and directed me to some spaces right outside the lecture room, where there was lots of shade.

I let Meg out of the car, gave her a drink, and took her for a quick walk. We went up South Norwood Hill, where there is constant traffic. Perhaps it’s because the traffic was slow-moving, or because the path was wide, but Meg walked nicely on the lead, not reacting to the traffic at all. A completely different experience to walking in the lane. She lurched when a bus swooshed past, and when we had to wait at the central bollards to cross the road, but other than that, she was pretty perfect. (We do not do pretty perfect very often.)

We arrived at an entrance to Beaulieu Heights—which seemed to be a park so we walked through the gates. There was a path, and a lot of litter, and bushes and mud. We continued along the path and round the corner. I should mention that I was wearing a dark coat and black trousers, and Meg has a black harness. A group of teenagers was smoking on a fallen log, and I heard them whisper ‘police dog’ and they all threw away their cigarettes! I decided not to venture further into the park, so we turned (trying to look official) and returned to the road.

I gave Meg another drink—which she didn’t want, and went in to the seminar. It lasted for 2 hours. When I came out, the sun had moved and the car was now in dappled sunlight. I peered into the boot, and Meg was fast asleep, her chew was untouched, and I worried that even though the window was open, I had killed my dog. Bad moment. I hadn’t, she was fine, but it was surprisingly warm in the car for dappled, late afternoon, sunshine. It was a learning experience—I won’t risk it again on a sunny day. We drove home with the windows down.

I hope your mistakes this week turn out okay. It’s horrible when we realise we have messed up, but we all do. Thanks for reading.
Take care.
Love, Anne x

Determined to fit through the cat flap.
How it feels to walk a GSD puppy.
****

Mad Meg Nearly Kills Me

Posted by

0


We had a great day on Tuesday. I drove to East Grinstead (Meg is still refusing to jump into the Mini, which is a real pain, she is very heavy to lift). Parked, and walked 10 minutes along the High Street. Meg lurched towards cars when we were right next to the road, but the High Street has a slightly raised path, a couple of metres from the road, and she ignored the traffic there. We were meeting a friend, and arrived early, so we sat at a table outside in the High Street. There was another dog, who Meg noticed, but she then settled down and was peaceful.

When my friend arrived we went into the cafe (the Mad Dog Cafe—appropriate name!) Meg, for some reason, baulked when we were inside and refused to walk any further. No idea what spooked her. We were next to a table, so sat there. Meg settled on the floor with her chew. She barked, briefly, at a woman carrying a tray, and at a baby shaking a toy. Other than that, she was very well-behaved, and I plan to return.

It was Puppy Classes in the evening. There was a new dog, a 10 month old poodle (a big one) and he barked at everyone. Meg responded initially, but then ignored him. It was fairly crowded this week, with puppies of all sizes, and she did very well, sitting and lying and walking in close proximity to lots of other dogs. Only dug one hole this week, so a success. (The class is in the sand school of a stables and we usually arrive to perfectly flattened sand, and leave to a mass of craters that Meg has dug.)

Yesterday was not so successful. I was feeling tired, so exercised her in the garden. During the afternoon I bent to pick up a stick, Meg dived for it, ran straight through my legs, and knocked me flying. Luckily I didn’t bang my head on a nearby tree, but I sprained my knee and ankle, and got a few bruises. While I lay on the floor, winded, with my glasses next to me, did Meg care? Not a jot! She bounced around with the stick and was in danger of trampling me. So much for the idea that dogs are attune with us and empathise with our emotions. I suspect if I had been knocked out, she might have eaten me! Hobbled back to the house for Nurofen and bandages.

**

My ankles are healing well (tight bandages, rested and raised—usually does the trick). I haven’t risked running yet, but yesterday I took Meg for a walk to the stream. This was such hard work. The main road has been shut for several weeks, due to a collapsed drain, which means there has been very little traffic. It is now open, and lots of cars zoomed past us—Meg lurched at every one. This is very disappointing, I have tried so hard to desensitize her to traffic. I’m guessing we made a mistake when she was little, in allowing her to pull on the lead. It’s now a real problem, and trying to make her walk to heel is futile. The best I could do was make her sit, before each car reached us, and held her on a tight lead, with one hand on her head (not sure if that was for comfort or because I was so angry with her I needed to be pushing her down!) There were many cars, it took a very long time to walk the 100 metres to the field entrance.

Once away from the road, I released Meg, and she ran into the field, hunting for sticks and sniffing smells, and always keeping relatively close as I marched away. There’s something about walking fast that is a great releaser of tension—for both of us I suspect. I’m sure if I couldn’t walk fast I would be taking anti-depressants.

Unfortunately, the happy walk was interrupted as soon as we rounded the first corner. A collie was there, called Leo, with his owner, and he was nasty. (I mean the dog was nasty, the owner was simply incompetent, I assume, as a nasty dog should not be loose where other people walk.) He snapped at Meg, who has never met an unfriendly dog before. He then pounced at her, and she yelped—I don’t know if he bit her or just frightened her. She ran off, back into the first field, and Leo followed. I could see her through the gate, she was watching me, but not daring to pass nasty Leo, who was baring the way. I called her, and Meg started to come, but Leo lurched towards her again. I asked the owner (in my very snotty schoolteacher voice) to ‘Please put your dog on the lead because he’s frightening my dog and she daren’t come back to me.’

Incompetent owner shouted, ineffectually, at Leo, and managed to move him further away (though still didn’t put him on the lead). I was furious. Meg is a German Shepherd dog, and they are known for being unfriendly towards other dogs. Meg, however, has a very sweet nature, and will happily ignore most dogs. It only takes one encounter with an aggressive dog to spoil this. I’m really hoping that Leo-the-nasty-collie will not cause Meg to be defensive whenever she sees another dog.

We marched off, round the field, releasing our tension. By the time we returned to the road, with all the whizzing traffic, I had recovered enough to cope with mad Meg trying to catch every car that passed (every single car). Arrived home exhausted.

Hope you have more success with the difficult things in your life–hopefully we will get there eventually. Thanks for reading.
Take care.
Love, Anne x

Thank you for reading. anneethompson.com *****

More Meg

Posted by

0


I have started to take Meg with me wherever I go (that allows dogs). We have walked round the market (stressful) the garden centre (surprisingly good) and the Four Elms shop (excellent behaviour once through the scary sliding doors!) I also take her, when appropriate, when I go out for coffee—I carry a chew and an old towel for her to lie on (not that she does lie on the towel, but it shows willing). She has been to Mum’s a couple of times—the first time was a nightmare and I spent the entire time stopping her eating the carpet/rug/draught-excluder/flower arrangement. The second time was better, and we had a nice chat (me and Mum, not me and Meg) while she (Meg, not Mum) chewed her chew. She does have the snake draught-excluder on her hit list though, and looks for it whenever we visit.

Always fully alert and ready to bounce.

Today we took her for coffee in The Garden Coffee Shop (Four Elms). We walked in, and Meg jumped up to look out of the window, put her paws on a seat, tried to join other customers at their table. Not too professional. We got her into a corner, and she settled down with her chew. Every time new customers entered, she stood up and barked at them (not sure why, no one else had a dog). Then gradually she relaxed, and we had some time to actually drink coffee and chat. After about 30 minutes she grew restless again, so we paid and left. I’m hoping that over time, this will be relaxing for all of us. At the moment, it’s a work in progress.

While the main road near the house is closed (and there is less traffic passing) I am walking Meg to the nearby stream each day. She is still super reactive if a car passes, but we only have a short stretch next to the road, and once in the field she is fine. I have no idea what will happen when she sees a deer, but I don’t think she can run to any roads even if she chases it. The good thing about the walk is that she has to wait at the gate when we leave, so it’s easy to put her back on the lead. She has become very naughty at being caught when it’s time to go home, so I can only take her to places with a barrier that stops her.

7 Months
I talked to ‘dog-trainer-Sue’ about taking Meg on a train. She advised me not to take her to a station initially, as it would just scare her, and to practice things like going through sliding doors, and walking through the underpass tunnel in Oxted. We practice the sliding doors at the garden centre, and Meg is completely fine with them now. But trying to go through the underpass had the same reaction as the tunnel in Instow—full brakes, and not persuadable! We have walked up and down the ramp a few times, but I’ll need Husband to help me get her through the underpass

We went to Cambridge, and took Meg. I took her on a long walk first, so she didn’t need physical exercise. We shoved her into her crate in the boot, and drove (2 hours) to Cambridge. I then walked her for 10 minutes, just to loosen up her joints, and offered her a drink (which she didn’t want). Then back into the crate while we looked around a prospective house to buy, and then drove home. She was great, and I think she just slept or chewed her chew. (I keep the chew for ‘special’ occasions, like when we’re out and I need her to be confined.) Though she did stand up and bark on the QE2 bridge! I don’t think she likes heights. When we got home it was evening, and I worried she might be full of energy, but she seemed tired, and was happy to go to bed. I guess she must have been alert and watching during the afternoon.

Today we took her to the pub. It’s a 45 minute walk, which is slightly long, but I’m hoping it won’t hurt occasionally. She was terrible whenever a car passed us, but we can cope with terrible now. In the pub she settled under the table with her chew, and was completely engrossed unless someone approached the table—when she barked at them. I think she was worried they might steal her chew. It wasn’t as relaxing as when we leave her at home, but I’m hoping that things like this will become routine. It’s easier to occupy Meg if she joins me for my activities rather than having to do things exclusively for her. After a quick lunch, we walked back home. I was tired, she was still bouncing. Such is life.

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

Without a doubt, we would fail this exam.

****
anneethompson.com