Natural Dog Food Inspiration

Bandit, my best friend. I have had numerous dogs in my long life but never has one taken my heart so completely by storm. At the time I brought him home, I was living on a ranch with some rowdy neighbors close by. I had found broken bottles in the horse stalls. I was not feeling safe. So I grabbed my brother and said, "We're going on a field trip." Not until we arrived did my brother realize our field trip was a local animal "no kill" shelter. I have a hard time going to these places because the wagging tails and upturned faces of these sweet creatures turn me into mush. But I knew what I needed. I needed a protector, a loyal friend, an enthusiastic barn dog. I went into each of the pens with the dogs. Some were too complacent, some too overwrought, some just too aggressive. I was ready to leave, knowing I had not found the "one." I would know him immediately.

As I went to exit, some of the workers asked what I was looking for. I described my scenario, my fears of being alone at night when the neighbors got too surly. I wanted a dog that would love to run the 100 acre ranch, who would be my companion, my protector and my "buddy." In unison, they said "Mr. Happy." Mr. Happy turned out to be a Heinz 57 with predominate Rottweiller and German Shepherd traits, with a quick wag of the tail and impeccable behavior. Mr. Happy had been their training dog, helping to lead the other canines in their training exercises. You could see that there was a huge bond between Mr. Happy and all the workers. Simply put, you could feel the love on both sides. I was put through rigorous scrutiny. They came to look at the ranch, to see where they might be placing their beloved. They brought him out to see if we hit it off. At first it was very clear where his loyalties were and they were not with me! But I was still given the green light. The next day, Mr. Happy came home.

The first thing I needed to do was change his name. Although Mr. Happy suited him perfectly, it held some weird connotations for me. I looked at his gentle face with the Rottweiller "mask" and it came to me. "You are now Bandit." I said. He understood perfectly and wagged his tail. He immediately became my protector. If anyone came near, the hair on the back off his neck would stand, his teeth would bare. He bit the painter, he bit the plumber, he growled at my kids. And then he would come up to me, all sweetness and light, as if to say, "See, I promised I would protect you." It took a while to convince Bandit that I didn't need to be protected from EVERYONE.

Each evening around dusk, I would get into the golf cart and Bandit and I would go for his daily run. He was beauty in motion, his lean, athletic body moving in smooth symmetry and grace, chasing the golf cart and nipping at the tires like they were stray rabbits. It seemed like he would never tire. He chased the horses in a cat and mouse game, them whinnying and kicking up their hindquarters, Bandit pretending to nip at their flanks. He would chase my two geriatric Clydesdales out to their feeding stalls each night. It was a wildly fun game for canine and equine alike. And, at the end of his run, he would leap into the pond for a cooling swim.

Too soon, Bandit and I and the kids would move to the city, into a perfect little neighborhood of postage stamp yards and white picket fences. Bandit no longer got his run of one hundred acres and got a bit lazy. I started to see white hairs sprouting around his muzzle. When I considered that Bandit had been estimated at seven years old when I got him, I now realized he was fourteen, an old man. He developed some health problems, his stomach reacted to stress, his hearing was dwindling, his joints were crickety. Then I started seeing some blood in his stool. I was assured this happened sometimes with dogs and was sent home with medication to calm his digestive system.

One night Bandit couldn't get up to go for his evening walk. His whole hind end collapsed. We tried to cajole him, help him up. He couldn't walk. I called the vet and he agreed to meet us at his office. We cradled all eighty pounds of Bandit up in a blanket and carried him. His hind quarters were dead weight. He looked up at us with woeful eyes.

When the vet looked at him, he surmised something neurological. The next day, a specialist was called in. They could find nothing wrong and when Bandit recovered his walking capability miraculously, he was sent home. Hours later at home, he was bleeding rectally - bleeding everywhere. I bundled him off to the vet again. Tests were done, x-rays taken. Bandit had a tumor the size of a baseball pressing on his gastrointestinal system and all the nerves surrounding it. Surgery was needed. We didn't hesitate.

Bandit came home the following day, tail wagging, walking gingerly. That day, we chanced on a website about dog food and the truth about all the ingredients we feed our beloved pets. But our food was purchased at the vet. It was sanctioned by the veterinary community so it must be good, right? Wrong! In doing more research, we found we were feeding our beloved pet products that would make your stomach crawl. That it was filled with grains grown in Asia where pesticides were not regulated stringently. And our veterinarian sanctioned pet food was produced by a huge conglomerate whose main industry was not even associated with foodstuffs.

The information was compelling. We researched dog nutrition and natural dog foods. We wondered how much of Bandit's problems were a result of poor nutrition, although we will never know. We do know now that we are committed to keeping Bandit as healthy as possible in his remaining time with us. We now feed him (along with our two other dogs and one cat) Canidae products and he is thriving. We will never be complacent again about what we feed our pets. It has opened a Pandora's Box, however, because we are now investigating our own food sources. You owe it to yourself to examine how our society is putting profit before health - not only our pets' but our own - and compassion. You will be surprised and shocked when you do. As for Bandit, we know he doesn't have much longer with us but we intend to make this time the best - and healthiest - in his life. We owe him that and so much more.