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Monday 8am - 6pm Tuesday 8am - 6pm Wednesday 8am - 6pm Thursday 8am - 6pm Friday 8am - 6pm Saturday 8am - 6pm Sunday 8am - 6pm

MeeraPuppins Puppy Training, Sheffield (2025)

30/06/2025

Things to do instead of walking your puppy

Find a comparison website for sun cream. Splurge on a range of different factors, and report back on which one is the least likely to leave you looking like a kebab in the doner shop window.

Stuff a Kong with your puppy's wet food and chill it in the fridge, or freeze it. Supervise when they're attacking it to get the food out.

Eat ice cubes directly from the tray and refill it with gin.

Do the touch test. Stroke your puppy (not when they're sleeping!) for 3 seconds and stop. Do they still want your hot hands on their hot fur, or do they want you to go away?

Eat cheese directly from the block. Take large bites and then palate cleanse with a Granny Smith apple.

If you're worried your puppy will chew a cooling mat and lick the poison out of it, soak a towel in cool water instead. Don't leave your puppy lying on a crispy towel.

Watch a documentary about life in Antarctica. For maximum effect, watch whilst wearing a puffer jacket, with your extremities submerged in ice cold water.

Get ready to complain about it being too cold / too grey / too windy / too rainy.

Don't freak out if your puppy eats a bit less than normal. Equally, don't try and fill the portion gap with rich treats, unless you like cleaning up warm diarrhoea.

Buy a fan and keep the receipt. Its set to get cooler next week.*

P.S. I've only got 2 spaces left for private puppy training in July. If you want one, or think you might want one, I'm afraid you'll have to tell me. Email me to [email protected]

📷 Meersbrook Park yesterday. No doggies. Too chuffin hot.

*I have no idea if this is true.

🐶

26/06/2025

Life lately...

When people tell me “life has been crazy lately” I assume they are referring to the sweaty panic when you want to wear a top that’s been festering at the bottom of your washing basket for the past two months, and making this decision 18 minutes before heading out to an event that’s been in your Google calendar long enough for you to have planned this better.

Anyone that takes 3 seconds to reply to a DM, yet 5-7 days to reply to an email, and fobs me off with “life’s been so busy!” gets an auto-response from my brain that reads: so busy that the cheese in your fridge has reached its expiry date? No? Had time to eat it all? Can’t be that busy then.

So I’m going to tell you that for the last year (calendar year, not as in “the other day” kind of year) I’ve been doing everything in the name of sorting out my health (women’s health, men look away, we don’t need you fainting and then blaming it on the heat please) and not as much as I’d have liked on Meera Puppins.

I keep coming back and going away for a little bit. Some of this is my fault (I started watching Yellowstone) and some of it isn't.

Despite not showing up as much on social media, I’m still here, doing puppy things.

I’ve got space for two new clients in July.

Meera Puppins is for puppy training and puppy socialisation. It’s my area of expertise, and the thing I’m really good at.

Currently, I can work with you in person, on a 1-2-1 basis – this means I turn up at your house, you don’t have to go out or change out of your crocs.

We can work together remotely if you’re not in Sheffield – this means you have to learn not to hate Teams calls.

I can also help with teenage dog behaviour – crap recall, not listening, doing weird things they didn’t do before, driving you mad... I'm here for it.

So this is me. And this is my “life at the moment” post.

If you want to recreate the scene in Aladdin where the genie grants him three wishes, I'm happy to put on a blue suit and offer you my help with:

1) having a properly lovely relationship with your puppy - the kind where you just get each other's moods and feelings, and make everyone jealous that they're not part of your secret best friends club.

2) Figuring out how to train your puppy to do the stuff you want them to do.

3) How to keep this good stuff going, even after our training sessions are over.

If you want to make your wishes my command, check out the links in the comments

If you're more interested in something else right now, tell your friends / family about me - thank you, please.

P.S. Ask me about my outfit.

16/06/2025

I see you…struggling.

It’s lovely to think that your puppy will grow out of whatever annoying thing it is that they’re doing. Whether it’s not listening when you tell them “no”, using your kitchen floor as their very own Portaloo, or treating your arms and legs as a chew toy, one thing is for sure, your puppy is definitely going to grow.

But that doesn't mean they’re going to grow out of their annoying (or gross) behaviours.

What you don’t want to end up with, is a bigger version of the same problems.

It might be cute when your teeny-weeny itsy-bitsy puppy jumps up to greet you or playfully chomps on your hand. It’s definitely not as cute when your puppy is now a 30kg beast who terrifies small children, and is the subject of the neighbourhood group chat (miniature dachshunds, I’m not looking at you, we’ve heard you bark).

What do you do, when your puppy does stuff you don’t like?

Google for help? Friends and family? Buy a book off t’internet? (and hope your puppy doesn't eat it).

How do you feel when every search for help gives you a different answer?

You should yelp ouch when your puppy bites.
You should never react when your puppy bites.

You should rub your puppy’s nose in their wee and poo.
You should calmly clean up the mess and not make a fuss.

You should push your puppy’s bum onto the ground if they jump up.
You should definitely ignore them until their paws are on the floor.

Blah blah blah.

Is it helpful or is it confusing?

You don’t need more advice.
You don’t need to be told what to do.

What you need, is someone who understands why your puppy is behaving like a gremlin that’s been fed after midnight. And then helps you with the “no feeding” rules (not literally, hangry puppies are legit terrifying).

Feeling seen?
Fancy a chat about it?
Book a complimentary puppy chit chat with me.

Link in the comments.

P.S. The sequel to the "didn't grow out of it phase" is the teenage turd stage. Sorry. The good news is, I can help you with this too.

11/06/2025

I keep going away...and coming back.

The note said 6 weeks.
After 6 weeks you can go back to work.
After 6 weeks you can let puppies jump up at you.
After 6 weeks, you can carry four bags of shopping up your stairs, because you are too stubborn to do two trips to your car.
Until then, you must rest. You must not work, must not roll around on the floor with dogs, or lift anything heavier than a kettle with one mug of water in it.

April 28th marked the end of my 6 weeks of rest.

I’m fully aware I haven’t been around as much. In fact, I’ve been going away and coming back to Meera Puppins.I 'vebeen working, but inconsistently. I’ve not been showing up on social media (blech) but I have been squirrelling away on important things in the background.

- I’ve done a bunch of CPD (just graduated from Nutrition School) and continued with my teenage dog training courses (their brains are so weird) with .

- I’ve only got 2 spaces left for June 1-2-1 or online puppy / teenage dog training.

- I’m hoping to host small-group puppy events from July onwards. Some of you have asked for social walks. What else would you like? It’s really helpful if you tell me what you want (what you really really want).

- Reopened my Calendly account if you want to book some training but aren’t sure what you want, or need. Book a chit chat with me via my bio.

- Working on the launch of Puppy Power Hour – a new service, where you just need a bit of help / advice – perfect if you’re panicking about your puppy.

- My landlady is selling up, so I’ve been doing lots of house viewings and asking dull questions such as “has the cellar been tanked” and “when was the last time the roof was replaced."

I’m going to be showing up more regularly now. If you don’t like the sound of that, then we can pretend I didn’t say anything, as I’d love for you to stick around here.

I have loads of puppy stuff to share with you, but I wanted to say "hi, I’m still here", first.

Your turn.
Where have you been?
What's new?

23/05/2025

Please can you pass me the melon-eye-ball scooper?
I’m ready to unsee another terrible week of puppy training.

I can’t watch you continue making a mess of raising your puppy. I stood behind you in the queue at the pet shop, and was disgusted at the food you bought. It’s gross. Your whole house is going to smell like farts. Your puppy is going to smell like farts. You’re going to blame *insert terminology for the person you split your Council tax bill with* but really, you should be blaming yourself.

I was sitting on a bench minding my own business, until you made it my business to wonder why you bought a four-foot short puppy training lead, that barely touches the ground and gives your puppy about 2cm of walking space before they start pulling. I’m still watching, as you turn around with the force of a military drill sergeant, marching your puppy back a few paces, and smiling sadistically as the lead is forced (by gravity, not by your skill) into a loose, dangly thing. Good! I hear your bark at your puppy. Good! I'm not sure if this is classed as praise, or as a verbal punishment.

I was plodding home from work, when I saw your Spaniel puppy walking at a right-angle on the pavement. He looked friendly and I was smiling in a way that said “I’m going to ask for permission to touch your puppy, and you are going to say yes, and then I’m going to force you to look at my puppy training website, and not be offended when you tell me I'm too expensive.” Except you didn’t see me, did you. No, you were too busy glued to your phone. Unfortunately, you looked up when I was within petting distance, and the 5G signal dropped out (it’s Sheffield, too many trees). I don’t know why you had to do a simultaneous yank-jerk-pull on your puppy’s lead, yeeting and hoiking their deliciousness away from me. Thankfully, you have a long history of poor decision making, and your puppy was wearing one of those Julius K9 harnesses, so they probably wouldn’t have felt a thing. Except for onset early arthritis. But I’ll bet you could train that out of them.

3a.m. on Thursday and my neighbour’s alarm was going off. I wish I didn’t know what sort of heathen (or hard worker) deliberately sets an alarm for 3.am. I found out – it’s new puppy owners. Especially the first timers. You’re so worried about your puppy piddling in their crate, or waking up to see that your cream (awful choice) carpets look like they’ve been tie-dyed brown by the contents of your puppy’s digestive system (was I not right about the food?) that you’re actually setting alarms to take your puppy out to the toilet in the middle of the night. If I wasn’t so tired, I’d be laughing really hard. But it takes a lot of muscles to laugh, and because of you, I slept through my own alarm – reminding me it’s been fourteen years since I last went to the gym. I’ll have to have a word with the neighbour. Well, maybe not a word, that feels too confrontational. I’ll slip a note through his door with a motivational message: I KNOW YOU SLEPT THROUGH YOUR ALARM LAST SUMMER. If he responds positively, I’ll let him know that when puppies are asleep, their bladders are also asleep. If you wake one, you wake the other. Biology is annoying like that.

To end a terrible week of puppy training, I went to the park to flog my new business project: pre-chewed puppy leads (four-foot length only). I did the biting, so your puppy doesn’t have to. Depending on how successful my side project is, I might also start selling pre-chewed hands. Sleeves with Swiss cheese holes in them. There won’t be any cheese though, maybe just a rogue puppy tooth. Depending on overheads, I may even branch into sportswear. Those leggings you love? Prime candidates for flesh-holes when you’re playing with your puppy and the play mutates into feral biting that doesn’t stop when you say “no!”. Biting that actually gets more violent when you redirect their horrible little mouth onto the nearest toy – which happens to be a pair of Air-buds, and your husband’s 214 button TV remote control that cost you 2 days in an argument about what is considered to be an essential household expense. Not to worry, you can always flee the room when your puppy is play biting in a very aggressive manner.

They're just a puppy right? Eventually they’ll tire themselves out, or grow up, and out of it. Even if your walls look like they’ve been painted with a cheesegrater, even if your garden resembles the "before" version of an episode of Garden Rescue, even if your clothes look like they were used to house a colony of mice, even if your previously nice neighbour has turned into Hyde Ned Flanders, they’re just a puppy right?
It's nothing to worry about, right?
It’s probably normal to live in fear, confusion, and exhaustion, right?

P.S. C'mon. You know it's not right. You know it's not right at all! Check the comments for some stuff that IS very right.

And please share the heck out of this post, so my page is retrieved from the bottom of the algorithm's bin 🙏🏽
Also - not my photo. I got it off t'internet.

09/05/2025

To avoid doing one thing, I've now done forty seven things.

All I need to do is rewrite the copy for my new S11 Puppy Owners Survival Guide.

I'm not going to list my 47 achievements, only the most worthy of a four fingered (KitKat) pat on the back.

I have dusted the skirting boards that nobody sees. The bits hidden by furniture, plush rugs, and Medusa heads of wires and cables.

Chanced upon a secret, magic Inbox, that is neither secret (because I set it up last year and forgot about it) nor magic (because all it had saved was an old complaint from a client).

Called my mortgage broker. This involved justifying why going to Tesco 18 times a week is vital to my wellbeing, and feigning credit card fraud when he realised my Google Play Store receipts are for boosters on particularly challenging levels of Candy Crush.

Doing one thing (a thing) is often much harder than doing forty-seven things. Don't ask me why. But I do know that when you have a puppy, one thing is always harder than the other.

The relentless, paper-cut like biting from your puppy is worse than the sleepless nights after you've shovelled them into their crate, and stealthily crept out of the room, only to stand frozen on the bottom step, listening to the intro of the nightly soundtrack, which goes like this: hooowwwwwoooooooYIPYIPYAPwoofBARK + a thump on the wall from your neighbours.

Toilet training your puppy is worse than trying to go for a walk with them, because they move like a velociraptor, and do nothing to help you look capable when strangers helpfully shout out "who's walking who?!" "got your hands full there have you!".

Trying to stop your puppy from jumping up is worse than having to live through their nightly relay race through the lounge, the hallway, and heart-stopping hurdling over the sofa, whilst you're trying to drink a cuppa and catch up with MAFs.

But what's the one thing that will help you?
The one thing that will stop you feeling you're doing it wrong?
The one thing that will help if you believe things are getting worse?
The one thing you should do, especially if you don't know the right thing to do.

Just one thing?
Maybe it's the Puppy Chit Chat thing in the comments.

29/04/2025

Yesterday was my first day back at work after my six week hiatus (to find out why I disappeared for a bit, have a look at the link in the comments).
If you’re new around here, I also work full-time as a Pet Welfare Assistant for Blue Cross, Sheffield.

I slept through my morning alarm (standard), ate my breakfast over the sink whilst haphazardly applying eyeliner, and fumbled through the day.
Crucially, I remembered to put my lunch in the fridge AND, despite my best efforts to forget, I remembered my login details.

It was a busy one, dog assessments, adoptions and two of our lovely kittens also went to their new homes.

Today, I’ve got the day off, holed up in my favourite café , home of the best chai latte this side of the Pennines. So good, in fact, that a wasp repeatedly tried to fly into my mug, succeeding once, before I took him outside (safely sealed underneath a glass cup and a paper menu).

Here’s what I’m working on:

- Piecing together Puppy Power Hour – a new service for puppy owners.
- Figuring out how to help you seamlessly transition between puppyhood and adolescence with minimum stress.
- Building community by working on my Facebook group – S11 Puppy Club (wanna join us?)
- Looking into organising small-group socials for pups and teenage doggos.
-Holding off on small-group training classes till I’m sure I’m not going to do myself a mishap mid-way through. Trainer down, trainer down!

That is a lot of things for someone who feels like a raccoon trampling through a bin (and the bin is on fire) but I didn’t sleep through my alarm today, and the coffee is really very good here.

P.S. My Calendly has rather exuberantly flung open its doors again. If you wanna chit chat puppy problems with me, book a call. Link in the comments.

17/04/2025

This email has very little to do with puppy training, and everything to do with why I’ve been missing from your Inbox, silent on socials, and hovering nervously around lovely dogs that I would normally be having a gorgeous time teaching good manners with treats, toys and games.

At certain times of the month, have you ever experienced gut-binding, sweat-inducing, pore-prickling, shame-intensifying, fear?
Absolute, genuine fear of sneezing, coughing, or standing up too quickly?
Have you ever surreptitiously run your hands over the back of your jeans or asked your best mate to have a quick glance, particularly if it’s day 2-5 and they’ve made you laugh too hard?

Even if you’ve opted for “with wings”, “extra-long”, “new absorbent layer”, or my favourite: “ultra-night” has the fear still clung stubbornly onto your legs and the dry bit inside of your mouth?

Unfortunately, most women will know exactly that I’m talking about. Equally as unfortunate, a man may now be pestering you for an explanation. Insider knowledge. A chicken nugget of information.
Is that what you talk about when you go to the toilet in your small, terrifying groups?
Will it explain the fumble, the shake, the clunking rummage in the bottom of your handbags, tongues blazing as sharp as orange Bic razors (men’s grooming aisle, left of the pink tax).

The Fear is real. I’ve lived with it for most of my teenage and adult life.
On March 17th, I was finally able to stop being afraid.

Annoyingly (mostly for you) I don't want to share the full story here, but I have shared it with my lovely mailing list subscribers, as that feels like a safer, nicer, more personal space.

If you want to scratch the curiosity itch, check out the link in the comments.

13/03/2025

Sorry I'm late, I was busy being sad.

A few weeks ago Nina had to go to hamster heaven, and there was no time to be sad about it. Nina was a biter. She hated being touched, and you couldn’t pick her up without luring her into a cardboard tube first.

Nina and I spent Christmas and New Year together. We ate cheese, watched films and napped a lot. I absolutely adored her. At best, she tolerated me. She showed her loyalty to my borderline obsessive love for her by not letting anyone else bathe her crusty eye, or apply her skin medication without trying to savage them in the process.

For me, my NeeNaw would wriggle and shuffle out of her bed when I called her, blinking and dazed from her deep sleep. She would lift her tiny pink paws to her face and rub her eyes. Then she would teeter and totter her way to her food dish and stand defiantly in the middle of it. If I wasn’t quick enough to produce a treat, she would perform a pirouette worthy of centre stage at the Royal Ballet School. As I admired and applauded her sterling performance, she humoured me, again, again, again.

Completely ignoring recommended feeding guidelines, I would tip generous palmfuls of the best food into her dish. With painstaking precision, rivalling the presentation of Megan Markle’s rainbow fruit platters, in went dried shavings of carrot, miniscule cubes of sweet apple, ploppings of mealworms, tiny triangles of cheese. Nina filled her pouches, and my heart tightened in my chest, full of adoration for this 42g beast who wouldn’t hesitate to bite me at any given chance.

Sometimes Nina would let me stroke her whilst she ate. Other times, when I touched her, she would spin her head round so fast to glare at me I’m surprised her head didn’t roll off her shoulders.

Rescue is a brutal environment. Your emotions are juiced on a daily basis. Your resilience is tested, blitzed. Your heart swells with happy when things go well. Same silly heart smashes into something hot and sharp. Curls into a wet ball of sad. Takes up residence in your choked up throat. Bursts like hot drums banging in your ears. You can be sorry. So sorry. The sorriest you've ever been. But you don't ever have time to be sad.

26/02/2025

One thing I’ve learnt this week is that size matters – especially if you have a puppy, like to wear tights, or own an expensive pink jacket with a narrow lining (this might just be me, actually).

A couple of days ago I was getting ready to go outside (going outside is not the same as getting to go out, when you’re 30+). Unfortunately, I couldn’t get my tights past my knees. Despite entering a calorie deficit from the hoisting, joisting and cajoling, I still couldn’t wear them at the correct height (under my neck, if you were wondering). Had I have paid more attention, taken more care with the sizing, I would have spared myself the frustration, annoyance and *three days of eating salad for dinner.

You see, size matters.

If your lead is too short, it’s a problem.
If the harness is too big, it’s a problem.
If the collar looks like a belt, it’s a problem.

Why?

Because you (probably) want:

A puppy that walks nicely on their lead and doesn’t make you feel like you’re entering a strong(wo)man competition from the constant pulling.
How are they going to walk nicely if their lead is as long as a shoelace? They’re not. They physically can’t.

No heart-attack moments if their harness goes flying over their head, because they’ve done the wriggly puppy bum dance (you know the one I mean) and now you’re standing in the middle of the park watching your puppy run riot, with absolutely nothing but a (sometimes fake) pocket full of cheese, and a desperate tone to your recall cue.

A collar isn’t going to make your puppy pull less. It is a direct source of pressure against their delicate, dainty throat if they do pull. If your puppy is a puller, you might also get the added extras of your puppy coughing, gagging and gasping whilst their trachea is being squished as they storm ahead of you – well, as best as they can on that silly short lead.

Size matters. It’s not a solution, but it’s the easiest thing to fix first.

For my professional recommendations on all things puppy, have a look at my Sheffield Puppy Playbook.
It’s free to download, and ready for you in the comments.

*I didn’t eat salad for 3 days. If I ever do, please know I'm not OK.

24/02/2025

Once upon a time (about four years ago) I was walking my horse (rescue greyhound) in a land far, far away (Lancashire).

I stumbled across a tiny little bean of a sausage dog puppy. She was so small, not even a baked bean yet, and I noticed her because she was criss-crossing her way along the pavements, and up onto driveways whilst her humum was coaxing her to continue their walk.

As I was full of freshly squeezed confidence from a glowing Distinction on my dog-walking Diploma with Compass Education, I stopped to ask if the little pup was OK, as she looked quite nervous.

I can’t remember the exact conversation (I can barely remember what I did yesterday) but I do remember that Dottie, the nervous little sausage bean-baby, and her lovely human, became my first ever Meera Puppins puppy clients.

They say you never forget your first, and they’re definitely not wrong!

Dottie is all grown up now (swipe to see) full of sassy confidence and a supermodel swagger. She knows what she likes, and she’ll bark if you’re not it! Her family absolutely adore her, just as much as Dottie loves the ping of the microwave, letting her know that her morning scrambled egg is cooked to perfection.

March brings with it four years of Meera Puppins, four year of dogs, puppies and, because I can’t sit still, the launch of a new puppy service.

Puppy Power Hour.

An hour in which you get to borrow my puppy training brain, without the commitment of a full training package if that’s not what you need right now.

More details coming when I've finished scrolling through four-year-old puppy photos ;)

19/02/2025

On Valentines Day, I woke up early, unwrapped several boxes of chocolates, lingered over freshly brewed coffee and the heartfelt messages in Hallmark cards gently poked through the letterbox, artfully placed my premium-priced bouquets of flowers in vases and then realised my toilet wasn't flushing.

Damn. If only I was madly in love with a man, on Valentines Day. Love can fix anything - even a broken siphon. Love can fix a puppy who bites his owners. Love (and leaving the backdoor open) can fix a puppy who leaves bodily deposits on the lounge rug, and in the vortex of the (still open) back door. Love can teach a puppy to stop jumping up.

As I'm not madly in love with a man, and as I don't have a puppy, I did some diagnostics work (lifting the lid, taking a photo, and harassing my estate agency).
My findings were not deemed to be accurate - a second opinion was required. The agency sent a Man™️ to have a manly look at the problem.

The man arrived, did the same thing I did, and then declared that the siphon hailed from the rarest of rare parts shops. A voyage then ensued from S11 to S6 in search of a replacement. Alas, the voyage was not successful. This man was a professional, entrusted to his task.

A second Man™️ then arrived. Even manlier than the first. The second man copied my diagnostic work and declared, whilst beating his hairy chest: this part is a standard part! It's not as rare as someone not liking Hendo's! The Second Man roared in frustration and stamped his dirty shoes all over my nice clean floor.

I wondered if being in love with this man would make the experience more palatable. The Second Man said very rude (yet correct) things about the First Man.
Once he was calm enough to drive, he criss crossed his way down Eccy Road and returned triumphant.
Having replaced the bog standard part (pun intended) he lingered just long enough to make things a bit weird. Then he asked me to test the flush to ensure I was capable of acclimatising to the new angle. After proving myself capable, I promptly chucked him out.

The moral of this love story is in the comments.

MeeraPuppins Puppy Training

30/06/2025

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Meera Puppins

Monday	8am - 6pm
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Wednesday	8am - 6pm
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