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.

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

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