Fergus: now the happy, healthy carnivore

Tails In The Kitchen

Fifteen years ago I was feeding a dry dog food with the words “natural” and “choice” in it. I guess I didn’t question at the time what is “natural” about dry, [...]]]>

Fergus: now the happy, healthy carnivore

Tails In The Kitchen

Fifteen years ago I was feeding a dry dog food with the words “natural” and “choice” in it. I guess I didn’t question at the time what is “natural” about dry, highly-processed nuggets for a dog. Neither did I wonder if I was feeding the same food day after day, where is the “choice”?

It took me years of my own research and discovery to evolve to the point where I now feel a bit like a cavewoman, throwing scraps of food to the Wild Things around my campfire. The journey to this point took a long time, but the results are a slimmer, healthier dog and a fatter wallet.

I have read countless books, and I have made many futile attempts in the kitchen to cook up meals for my pets while trying to also cook for my family. On some days I juggled both pet and human cookbooks. I simply gave up because I would rather spend time in a pet store than in the kitchen anyway.

Besides, deep down I was still in denial that “super premium” pet food was all that bad. My cat was pretty fond of it, and he wouldn’t touch my best homemade pet cuisine no matter how much time or love went into the pot. He snubbed everything except for canned tuna and a particular stew for cats, and of course that was difficult to come by, expensive, and had to be warmed up before he would touch it. So far, he seemed to be doing just fine on his “super premium” dry food.

Then two years ago I found Fergus, a meek pound puppy of unknown heritage, staring up at me from the cold concrete floor of the humane society. His eyes could melt butter. I was not looking for a puppy at the time, but of course, home he came.

Enlightenment Is A Journey

I noticed immediately that my new puppy could not handle many foods. I went through countless brands of “super premium” and expensive dog foods searching for the holy grail of brands to satisfy his nutritional requirements (and not enslave me to the stove once again making stews and meatloaf for a dog). I eventually found one brand that he could tolerate and then only one flavor within that brand, a grain-free salmon and sweet potato. He didn’t seem thrilled with it, but at least his skin wasn’t inflamed. He also finally had normal stools instead of chronic diarrhea.

And still, after all the hours and dollars in natural pet stores, he just stared at it, and at me, like I was torturing him every time I put it in front of him. I resorted to stirring in broth, meat drippings, and leftovers whenever I could just to make it more palatable for him. I cook a whole chicken at least twice a week, so I started throwing in the raw necks and livers every time. He couldn’t get enough of those, and I was becoming less and less fearful of feeding him scraps and human food.

He is admittedly the only dog I know who will let a bowl of dry food go completely un-touched, hanging his head in apparent disgust as he walks away. I guess his body had been trying to tell me all along that what I was putting in front of him was not food as he, or his body, saw it.

One day last Fall I had a discussion on diet with the holistic veterinarian who had also worked on my horse. She told me about B.A.R.F., which stands for “Biologically Appropriate Raw Food”. I had some vague recollection of it being some controversial diet, one that I had read about a while back but had been too timid to try.

I wasn’t ready then, but now I was.

Where The Wild Things Are

I removed the label “dog” and started giving him “food”. Plain and simple: raw meat, bones, and veggies & fruits. The vet explained that it is cooked bones that splinter. An example of a meal was a raw chicken leg with a banana thrown in the bowl with it. Cook I couldn’t, but I could definitely do this!

I dragged out my heavy, expensive juicer which had been hiding in the dark recesses of a bottom cupboard, and I started making healthy juice for me again; I saved the pulp and some juice for the dog’s meals. I started buying free-range organic chicken legs and found a neighbor selling free-range duck eggs. I started giving my carnivore the food his body was made to eat.

He devoured it. The first time I gave him the chicken leg, I had to watch because I was still skeptical it wouldn’t get stuck in his throat. It didn’t, and the look on his face every time he chews on that leg is dreamy. He has traveled to another time and place, back to the wild but without having to fend off the rest of the pack from his portion.

Its Not Purr-fect

As for the cat, it has been a slower transition. He loves cut up chicken chunks, though, and when I am short on time and he is long on meows I simply add water to his grain-free dry food. I am confident that his nine lives are fed sufficiently by the above and the occasional mouse, vole, and fresh grass that he consumes within my backyard.

Premium, Without The Premium Price Tag

A huge benefit that I was not aware of when I initially made the switch was that I literally cut my dog food bill in half. To top it off, he was now getting free-range organic chicken. If I wasn’t a stickler on that (mainly because I shudder at mass-produced animals), I could cut my costs even further. When I cook a turkey, he gets some of that bird raw before I cook it for the rest of the family. I make sure that Fergus gets a wide variety of fruits and veggies, but most of those are merely leftovers and the pulp from juicing so I don’t even figure those into the cost. I am still making small adjustments here and there on how to best dish out this diet to both cat and dog, but it has overall been way simpler than I ever expected.

Who knows what future expensive veterinary interventions I am staving off simply by giving Fergus the best nutrition right now for his cells, organs, body and mind while eradicating the ravages of allergens in his diet. His teeth are white, his coat is shiny, and his skin isn’t oily and flaky. Those eyes that can melt butter? Bright and joyful.

Ultimately, more important than cutting the cost part of feeding my pet is that I am adding life to my dog. Do I have proof? No, but…he glows! You may not worry about your pet food budget at all and instead start off on this whole new feeding adventure simply to boost his health. You will also be giving your dog immense pleasure in eating while you let him reminisce with the ghosts of his ancestors, salivating over a raw chicken leg.

And last but not least, you will most likely be selfishly as pleased as I am with the decreased amount, size, and odor of your dog’s stools!

I highly recommend doing your research on feeding a raw diet to your pets as well as on the pitfalls of feeding a commercial, processed canned or dried food. I have a companion post to this article coming out in a few days on www.thecaninest.com; in that post I will have more tips and information about the benefits of the diet and where to find more information. Check with your veterinarian before making any feed changes, but remember that most veterinarians sell canned and dry dog food out of their offices making it a contributor to their bottom line.

Photo courtesy of Craig C. Downer, c. 2010

fly on the wings of what you might become with the gift of hope from your avatar...

Shortly after experiencing the movie Avatar, it became strikingly obvious that there was a way to experience some of the essence of that movie right here on earth. Imagine a world where you have access to your [...]]]>

fly on the wings of what you might become with the gift of hope from your avatar...

Shortly after experiencing the movie Avatar, it became strikingly obvious that there was a way to experience some of the essence of that movie right here on earth.

Imagine a world where you have access to your own avatar, that “embodiment or personification, as of a principle, attitude, or view of life”, the avatar that is a manifestation of you. Imagine a living, breathing individual that does so much more than simply reflect back everything that you love and loathe about yourself.

Then, imagine your horse as your avatar.

What You Are And What You Might Become

The word “mirror” is often used to describe our horses (and pets) in their relation to us; to me, replacing mirror with avatar opens up a whole other realm – full of possibilities, responsibilities, and yes, even tribulation.

Imagine a being that would escort you down your path in life, a being who could assist you in crossing over the boundaries of what you are and what you might become. Those of us lucky enough to be chosen by a horse, with avatar eyes, know that this experience can break us like glass, entwine us like hungry roots, and temper us like steel.

A Mixing Of Spirit

Its a pandora’s box, if you will; for who wants to be subjected to all the abject shortcomings of themselves – right there in black and white, palomino and bay, sorrel and chestnut?

Those of us who can give an affirmative to that question are those of us who have seen the gifts that come from an emotional mating, and a blending of spirits, with our horses. In Hindu mythology, an avatar is defined as “the descent of a deity to the earth in an incarnate form or some manifest shape; the incarnation of a god.” On James Cameron’s Pandora, the avatars have a mix of DNA with the humans; in your world, it’s a mixing of spirit between you and your horse.

The Gift Of Hope

Perhaps some horses do exist and function purely and simply as mirrors. However, if you are fortunate enough to have been gifted in this life with an avatar horse, you will never live in the same skin again. The relationship with your avatar is much more than a meeting of minds and more than a reflection of everything that makes up you. It is a vibration and a beat that only you and your horse can feel, for you are the pulse of each other’s hearts.

It is ultimately your avatar who encourages you to emerge from the stifling cocoon of what you had become in order to fly on the wings of what you might be. All of this is possible because, at the very bottom of Pandora’s box, lies the treasure of hope.

Don’t Fear Your Avatar

Thus, even when it is difficult to accept what you may see in your avatar horse, remember that you have also been given that gift of hope. Maybe if we can give up all our trepidation of seeing our horses as our avatars, then perhaps treating our horses with greater respect, patience, kindness, and understanding will come much easier.

And then we can give those gifts to ourselves.

If you liked this post, you might like similar articles I have written: Hold Your Horses and Sometimes We Need A Horse.

You will also like the book that I am writing, Becoming Sage.

And by all means, GO SEE AVATAR the movie!

Take heed when closing the shutters on your horse, the window to your soul.

Shortly after the publication of my rope halter article over at Horse City, I made the painful error of viewing the storm in the forum. I expected some of the reaction(s), but I was admittedly unprepared for a couple of responses that I saw come [...]]]> Or perhaps I should ask, do a horse’s feelings matter?

Shortly after the publication of my rope halter article over at Horse City, I made the painful error of viewing the storm in the forum. I expected some of the reaction(s), but I was admittedly unprepared for a couple of responses that I saw come in -out of naiveness, I suppose – and these are what bothered me.

Sentient Sage

Opinions come and go, and everyone is entitled to their own, but cruelty gets to me.

These responses had to do with horses being tied, and there was an input from someone telling about their “trainer” who had no qualms about smacking the rear end of a horse with a shovel when it pulled back while tied – all in the name of training. Someone else uses a broom. I think this stemmed from the fact that in the article I mention how Sage pulled back while I was doing groundwork, feeling exhuberant, and then her face was caught in the knots of the rope halter, punished for feeling good enough to buck and be a bit frisky on the end of a line. Apparently, that is not acceptable if you have a well-trained horse. Well, anyone who knows Sage knows that for a horse that has had about 3 months of professional training her whole life, she is pretty darned “well-behaved”. And if I choose not to punish her for bucking on the end of a line when she feels good, so be it.

I would rather give my horse, and her spirit, a little free rein when it comes to emotional expression. If she is not endangering herself or me or anyone around her, I see no problem with giving this other spirit on the earth a little free will and respect.

Last night I started a beautiful book called “The Emotional Lives of Animals: A Leading Scientist Explores Animal Joy, Sorrow, and Empathy – and Why They Matter”. In it, Mark Bekoff says, “Animals are our consummate companions who help us each and every day. Without close and reciprocal relationships with other animal beings, we’re alienated from the rich, diverse, and magnificent world in which we live. That’s why we seek out animals for emotional support. Our old Paleolithic brains pull us back to what’s natural but missing in our fast-moving world: close interrelationships with other beings that helps us figure out who we are in the grand scheme of things. Animals comfort us and put us in touch with what really matters – other sentient beings. A sentient animal is one for whom feelings matter…”

And smacking a horse with a shovel is not respecting those sentient beings.

Bekoff also says in his gem of a book that “the value of animals to humans cannot be overstated. and it’s their emotions that draw us to them. And yet, while we need animals, many animals would surely do much better without us.”

Amen to that.

Sage and Eleanor, choosing each other, eight years ago

I was sweetly reminded of that yesterday, just two days after blogging about how Sage usually resisted leaving [...]]]>

Sage and Eleanor, choosing each other, eight years ago

I was sweetly reminded of that yesterday, just two days after blogging about how Sage usually resisted leaving the herd, could definitely be called herd-bound, and seemed to usually prefer the company of horses over mine (see Herd Is A Four Letter Word).

Well, I arrived at the barn Wednesday, a beautiful and sunny autumn afternoon, not expecting anything different. However, as soon as Sage saw me she gave out a little whinny welcome and didn’t walk but trotted up to see me with enthusiasm. Normally she walks up to me but sometimes she will just look and then go back to eating until I walk up to her. I have never had to “catch” her or walk after her or use treats to get her, but since settling into this herd I have felt sometimes like the outsider.

What a lovely, profound thought that she perceived this somehow. Or maybe it was just purely coincidence.

In any case, she walked all the way back to the barn with me, away from the herd, only slowing down to belt out one loud whinny, calling to her mare friend River. Another surprise, River came away from the rest of the group to join up with us. The two geldings remained with their noses in the grass and blackberry bushes.

I felt like Sage had called out to River saying, “hey, come on, this is our herd leader right now, and we don’t want to let her down”.

I guess when you give up needing what you can’t have, it might just come to you when you least expect it.

Sage hanging out with her buddies

But I was never really part of Sage’s herd.

Herd Member Or Poor Substitute?

I would blow in like the wind a few times a week, interject [...]]]>

Sage hanging out with her buddies

But I was never really part of Sage’s herd.

Herd Member Or Poor Substitute?

I would blow in like the wind a few times a week, interject myself into her daily rhythm, and then go back to my home and family. On a good day I might be seen as a grooming buddy, a diversion from boredom, a source for food, and someone she liked to spend time with, but I was never a herd member.

However, for years I lived under this “herd” delusion. It was fueled in part by the fact that she had very few options to replace me. She would always come willingly to me when she saw me, even away from food. In the boarding environment, she was normally stalled as well as turned out alone. I used to feel happy and proud when she came up to see me; I felt she was truly bonded to me, and she was looking at me like her “herd leader”. I had achieved what the books said I should achieve. I was a success with my horse – or was I just a poor substitute for horse companionship?

Herd Companionship Is A Very Basic Need

For most of 2008 and 2009, Sage wasn’t stalled but instead lived alone 24/7 in a large turnout with shelter, separated from other horses by hotwire. No one ate her food or bossed her around, things that happen in herd turnout, but she was lonely. I felt this at my core for months. Now I did not feel like a success, even though I was trying to follow some natural principles like not stalling her, allowing some grazing, etc, all hard-fought since I was at the mercy of boarding facilities.

It slowly but surely became bittersweet when she whinnied and trotted up to see me at every arrival; I knew she was happy to see me mostly to fulfill her very basic and strong need for companionship. And to escape her boredom. When I was at my home and away from her, this really gnawed at me; I found myself worrying about her way too much. It was stressful and frustrating.

Being Herd-Bound Is Not A Vice
At the beginning of this past August I moved her onto acreage with three other horses; at night, they are all stalled but in view of each other and no bars across the front of their stalls. Now, after eight years of trying to play herd leader, listening to and fulfilling her needs, addressing and overcoming her health challenges, she and I both understand that I am not the herd leader. And that is perfectly ok. She is the healthiest she has ever been and she lives 24/7 now with three other horses. When I walk out onto the acreage to get her, she comes up to me but more often than not it takes a lot of encouragement to get her to follow me back to the barn willingly without the other horses. Is she herd-bound? Most definitely!

This was bittersweet at first, something akin to seeing an old flame with a new girlfriend, but I pretty quickly overcame that since Sage and I have come from so many un-healthy and lonely (for her) boarding situations. She has been alone for too long, and who am I to deny her horse company or worse, hold it against her or ever chastise her for it? I am out to see her for less than ten hours a week, and she lives with these three other horses for 24 hours a day, seven days a week. I am content with the fact that she comes to me when she sees me, and if she is happy to run back to the herd when she is turned loose then I say, wonderful! I am fulfilled by the fact that she is content and not lonely for all those hours in the week when I am not there by her side; and I, at home, am content as well, especially when I cannot make it out to see her for a few days.

I love Sage, but I love her happy and healthy in a herd more. And that, to me, is truly successful.

addendum to this story: “Sometimes the best gifts…”

the equine skull