I need help. Not with the usual stuff — injuries, finances, marriage, kids, work, beer. No, this is far more serious. I need help with our dog. She’s proving to be smarter than me. Let me explain. I recently took Ipo,
I need help.
Not with the usual stuff — injuries, finances, marriage, kids, work, beer. No, this is far more serious. I need help with our dog. She’s proving to be smarter than me. Let me explain.
I recently took Ipo, our 10-year-old, yellow lab/hound, to the veterinarian to be checked out for two hot spots she had on her front and back paws. She was put on antibiotics — four pills in the morning, four in the evening. No problem. Just mix them in with her food and she’ll get well. Sounds easy.
Not so fast.
While Ipo generally ate the white caplets, not so with the green capsules with the white powder inside. She declined to eat them. She ate everything but those two capsules. Licked that bowl spotless except for those capsules. Smelled awful, I’ve got to admit, but doctor’s orders. I’ve heard of picky eaters, but this is for her own good. Besides, these pills were expensive. OK. I’ll just slip these capsules in with a treat, wrap it up in cheese. That should do the trick. And it did. Once. The next day when I held the cheese-wrapped pill in front of Ipo, she sniffed and turned away. She knew.
Time for a new strategy. Come dinner time, I wandered next door and bought a McDonald’s $1 burger and put those capsules inside. It worked great. Once. The next night, Ipo took the bite of the burger, tossed it on the ground, nosed through it until she found the capsule. Then she ate around it. Even the next day, when I offered part of a pill-free burger, she took a bite, dropped it on the floor, inspected, then ate it. I’ve lost her trust.
I covered the capsules in cream cheese and let her lick it out of my hand. Worked great, once. Next time, she just looked at me and walked away, as if saying, “Is that the best you got?”
Someone recommended sausage or hot dogs. Pop the pills into the middle and she’ll never know it’s there. I did. It worked once. I even tried mixing hot dog pieces, pills attached, into her bowl of dog food. I watched in dismay as she carefully removed the hot dog pieces from the bowl and dropped them aside on the floor. She bit down just enough to split them open. Those that were 100 percent hot dog, she devoured. Those contaminated with medicine, she ignored, her way of sending it back to the kitchen in a restaurant.
OK. Time to get tough. Friends and family suggested covering the pill in peanut butter, then forcing it in her mouth and pushing it to the back of her throat. Seemed mean, but it worked. Well, a few times. Her efforts to spit the capsules back at me became stronger and she won more than she lost. Pill rejected in bitten, crushed form. This sweet old girl is tough. I don’t believe Ipo will bite my fingers when I’m trying to shove that capsule back there, but I’m sensing she’s almost there. Problem too, she knows I’m weak and she’ll win the battle of wills. Besides, who knew that waging a five-minute struggle with a dog over medicine was the equivalent in sweat to running five miles.
My wife, visiting family on the Mainland, wasn’t sympathetic. Be stronger than Ipo, she said. Don’t let that dog buffalo you. She told me to break open the capsules and just mix the powder in with her food.
“She won’t even notice,” my wife said.
Ipo did. Didn’t even work once. I figured she would get hungry and eventually have to eat so I left the bowl of food out for her all day. It sat untouched. Later, feeling guilty, I surrendered and gave her dog food sans pills. She looked up and grinned at me, between bites.
So, it’s back to that request for help. If you have any suggestions, please send them my way. And time is of the essence. My wife will return soon and I don’t want her to think Ipo was in charge while she was away.
Even if it’s true.
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Bill Buley is TGI editor. Reach him at bbuley@
thegardenisland.com
