Okay, it’s not really a living hell… but it sure can feel like a mental burden to have a dog who’s disinterested in eating.
Your rational mind knows he won’t starve to death. You tell yourself he’ll eat eventually. But your emotional mind — the one channeling an Italian mama saying “Mangia! Mangia!” — keeps asking: “Yes, but when? And what exactly will he agree to eat?”
You fret. You strategize. You stand in front of the fridge wondering what you could sprinkle, shred, drizzle, or sneak into the bowl that would make him dig in with gustatory gusto.
I do have compassion for owners of food-obsessed Labs — many of whom seem to possess that unfortunate gene that drives them to ingest absolutely everything. Their challenge is withholding food and worrying about weight gain.
I have a 10-year-old Weimaraner, Wanda, who approaches her bowl with ladylike dignity — delicately inspecting the contents — but no matter what combination of wet food and kibble I offer, it ultimately disappears with enthusiastic gulps.
But this is a wave of solidarity to my fellow sufferers of picky eaters. The dogs who approach dinner with a wary glance, an audible sigh, and a look that clearly says: “Meh. That looks suspiciously like… dog food.” And then they stroll right past the bowl.
My younger dog, Sky — an 18-month-old Vizsla — is firmly in that camp.
It took him a while to reveal that he had zero interest in kibble of any size or shape — even when mixed with tasty canned food. After many rounds of putting the bowl down, picking it up, refrigerating it, reheating it, and trying again, Sky made his preferences crystal clear: he’s a meat-only kind of guy. No dry food.
And he doesn’t want the same thing at every meal, thank you very much. So there has been quite a bit of rotating through different canned foods. Still, more than a few untouched bowls have spent the night in the refrigerator.
One tactic that sometimes works? My husband Joe sitting beside Sky while he eats. Apparently, Sky prefers company when he dines (yes, that’s frothed milk in the bowl next to his food). This is charming — but impractical, given that Joe runs a business, even if it is home-based.
Here are just a few of the culinary enhancements I’ve tried:
- The fluffed milk from the espresso machine
- Shredded cheese
- Cat Sushi (dried bonito flakes)
- Bits of leftover human food
And then it occurred to me: why not try the fanciest canned food available? RAWZ is a sponsor of my show, and I know they make super-premium canned foods that are 96% pure meat and liver — chicken or beef.
Well, let me tell you: Sky gobbles the RAWZ canned food. He puts his snout down and inhales it.
But then I discovered his true happy place — the smaller can of RAWZ venison in goat milk. My picky eater transformed into a food vacuum. I don’t even need to serve a full can. Just one generous spoonful of the venison spread on top of one of the canned foods he had previously rejected — and suddenly he’s chowing down like a champion.
Sometimes you simply have to accept that your dog is picky for a reason.
Sky, it turns out, is a gourmet.