memoirs are made of this

I am now well into my new big writing project: my autobiography. Why not? everyone else seems to do it, right down to 21 year-olds who have barely begun to live. Sometimes, less often, they write them themselves. I at least have lived long enough to have something to write about, though thus far my energies have been directed to dredging up memories from the distant past.

After about 18,000 words I have nearly finished the 4th chapter, which covers my time at medical school, finishing with my qualification in 1974. I have noticed an interesting phenomenon while setting the words down, and one confirmed by a close friend who has also been working on his memoirs: the more one thinks about the past, the more comes back, including things thought to have been long buried and decayed under the welter of years. It is actually quite amazing, akin to remembering dreams. At first you can't remember a thing about them, but then when you begin to think about them or discuss them with another person, they begin to seep back into consciousness. It really is true: nothing is lost, only secreted away in a dark, safe place, waiting for the mental archaeologist to excavate them. I shall keep the reader advised of my progress, though I expect it to be a full year before I have completed it. Whether anyone other than me will be interested in reading it is, of course, another story entirely.

TV SUPPLEMENT

THE DOG WHISPERER (National Geographic Wild Channel)

I have never owned a dog. I have always thought of them as dirty, slavering creatures that crave affection from man in a way a cat would never stoop to. Also they can be dangerous, snapping and biting in an unpredictable and frightening way. So watching the extraordinary Cesar Millan work with "troubled", or out of control dogs, or at least dogs whose owners are unable to control them, is a revelation. With patience and a brilliantly clear and practical intelligence, he invariably identifies the problem within minutes of arriving at the family home. Almost always, it seems, it is the same problem. The human, who should always take the role of "pack leader", fails to assert him or herself through poor self esteem, a misplaced sense of kindness or just abject stupidity. It's a bit like child psychiatry, I suppose. I remember an eminent psychiatrist telling me once:
"There is no such thing as child psychiatry; only the psychiatry of parents."
But dogs want their masters to be pack leader, and don't really know what to do with their power when they find themselves de facto pack leaders themselves.

The programme makers put together a highly professional show, allowing Cesar to work his unique magic, which he usually succeeds in doing within a very few minutes. You can see the humans having their "Eureka moments" as Cesar shows them how easy it is to modify a dog's behaviour by the calm display of power and consistency.
"Your mind is stronger than the dog's" he explains to little ladies frightened of their sometimes massive dogs. "Remember, a cat can control a Dobermann in certain circumstances; it's not a matter of physical power." It's true: sometimes we see how how a toy poodle can effortlessly control two adult humans- until Cesar shows up.

And there we have it. In the space of an hour he will have solved the problems of 3 or 4 pet owners, almost always with the same anthem:
"You are the pack leader, not them."
After watching one programme I turned to my wife and said: "
I guess I'm the pack leader in this house."
"Yeah, right", she responded. "You go on believing that..."