THE DOGS LIVES ON. Now, two months after his harrowing and lengthy hospital stay, Otter is still alive. And he appears to be well. His blood-test numbers fluctuate a bit, giving me a scare here and there, but to see him is to know that he is much better. And while the doctors agree, they also agree that he is still sick, and must stay on a special diet, designed to not stress his greatly weakened kidneys. Which would be fine, except that he is also allergic to everything. And so we consulted a nutritionist.
Oh, yes. These days vet consults can be done by email, which is how it went for us, when the internal-medicine specialist who saved Otter’s life suggested that he send the records, accompanied by Otter’s allergy profile, to a Cornell nutritionist for some diet suggestions. Hoping that this expert would find a commercial diet for Otter that would no longer require that I cook three dog meals daily, I waited by the email.
And then came the email ping, the contents of the message reading that the diet of sweet potatoes and chicken thighs that I had cooked up (after much online research) was, in fact, a very good call. I preened like a proud mother. That is until I read the next line, stating that it would be what Otter must stay on indefinitely, since there is no single commercial dog food that will do the trick.
Reading this email on Christmas Eve, I admit I read only that first line, and closed the message, overwhelmed at a time of year when things can appear overwhelming. I waited, cooking on as I had, and then after the new year passed, I reopened the file, hoping to find some better news further on.
Nope.
Ugh, I thought. The lovely cast-iron skillet in which I poached the chicken thighs was laden in cooled fat, waiting to be cleaned again; the sweet potatoes that either could be microwaved one at a time for 15 minutes, or peeled and boiled in batches, lay awaiting attention. On this diet he gets a chicken thigh and three potatoes a day. Batches? Ugh. Freezing. Hmmm. What to do?
And that’s when the sister savior thing kicked in again. Standing in my kitchen, gearing up for a lifetime of cooking and cleaning and storing, I spied my slow cooker, given to me last Christmas by Margaret. Aha!
And what an aha! it has been. One pot, it goes in the fridge, in the dishwasher; hell, if Otter ate at the table, it could also be his dish. (He doesn’t, I promise, really, despite the fact that I consider him a relative). Now this is what I call a gift that keeps on giving.
Here at TSP, we’ve always loved our slow cookers. Paige is a master at it, and I am getting there, having previously offered up some human fare, and delighting in your suggestions of what else to cook in mine. So, I tell you this: Cooking for your dog? Slow cook it, and reap the rewards.
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First, cooking for one’s animals is more common than one might think. Even my father did it for his elderly dog. Second, slippery elm bark is one of the few things that helps both humans and cats (and a quick check of the web shows it applies to dogs as well) keep their digestive tract on an even keel…not a curative, but a palliative (antinausea, constipation and diarrhea). It is even reputed to have kept George Washington’s soldiers alive at Valley Forge. Fortunately we can buy it at health food stores rather than actually tearing the bark off trees.
Hi, Lynne. Thanks so much. Years ago slippery elm was prescribed to me by a Chinese medicine practitioner. Dogs, huh? Cool. Please come back with more sage advice. We love it.