Views From the Cab

By David Tollefson, Columnist

I don’t have a dog myself – for various reasons, most importantly, what would I do with a dog when I travel to see my loved ones?

One of my favorite dogs otherwise is Lucky, my daughter Kris’s family purebred border collie who was recently here for about a week along with Kris and her two teenage girls. Lucky travels very well from their home in suburban Virginia in their spacious Toyota Highlander.  

Daughter Karen and husband Steve, who live near Stillwater, have two dogs, Dillon and Sadie, who have also been to Starbuck occasionally. All three dogs enjoy the freedom of the countryside in rural Pope County.

A couple different neighbors have smaller Corgis, lovable in their own ways.

A rather well-known farm reporter for different agricultural publications is Andrea Johnson. In the April 22nd issue of Minnesota Farm Guide, she had a rather entertaining story of her little dog Gimbel. It is titled “Serving Canned Dogfood is New Experience at Home.” Here it is:

In the story called “Life,” sometimes we adopt new ideas.

For me, that means that it’s okay to buy and feed canned dogfood.

I never expected to be the lady walking down the petfood aisles of Runnings studying the nutritional value of salmon vs. chicken stews.

I thought only “spoiled and fat” cats ate canned food. That was my reaction to TV commercials of long-haired white cats wearing diamond collars and eating canned food from a crystal plate.

Now I shop for canned dogfood, even though I grew up on a farm where dogs fended for themselves with a supplemental bulk bag of cheap dogfood.

How did this happen?

A little 7.4-pound toy poodle found his way into my life, and I’m responsible for his care.

I’ve written about Gimbel before. The runt of his litter, he makes up for his size with sociability. He gives all dogs a chance to like him. For a little dog like him, it’s important that he has plenty of slack in his leash when he meets a new dog on the street. I learned from the show, Canine Intervention, that he needs to be able to protect himself by running away or yipping if another dog wants to play tough. I’m proud of the way he gets along with other dogs without being overly-possessive of me.

But he’s a little dog with little dog weaknesses.

Gimbel’s biggest weakness is his mouth. Dogs have 42 teeth. His entire muzzle is the size of a tangerine. There just isn’t enough room for those tiny teeth.

He’s always been averse to eating anything that could help clean his teeth. He has trouble keeping weight on too, so he needs dense calories.

He needs one or two dental checkups per year, during which his teeth are cleaned and checked. Every year, a few of his teeth are infected and must be pulled out at the Veterinarian’s office. He’s lost 8-10 teeth, but that still leaves a lot of teeth in his mouth.

He’s given anesthesia so the vet techs can work on his teeth, and pain pills to take after the fact. It’s expensive, too.

His most recent dental visit was the most difficult one for him yet. One of his infected teeth was harder to pull, and a tooth on each side of the diseased tooth came out.

So, it took about a week for Gimbel to feel better.

I could tell that his weight was getting too light. The vet techs said I could feed him cooked chicken or lamb and rice, and I did that for a week, but he wouldn’t eat much.

He wouldn’t eat kibble and his kibble is not cheap. It is labeled for older dogs and is a smaller pellet for little dogs.

I went to Runnings and started looking at canned dogfood.  

There were cans of something called, “Turkey and Rice Stew” for Sensitive Skin and Stomach older dogs. That seemed like a potential food for him.

Bringing home the $3-plus can, I opened it gingerly.

At least in my mind, the smell was something between chicken noodle soup and a rendering truck. Gagging, I put on my COVID mask, and ran outside with the open can, a paper plate, and a plastic spoon.

Carefully removing the food so it didn’t land on me, I continued to gag as I placed it on the plate.

Then wrapping the half-filled can of dogfood in plastic, I set that outside. Gimbel’s plate was set next to his kibble, and I ran upstairs to take a shower – hoping to wash off any odor from the dogfood.

I have helped sick kids and pitchforked my share of manure. My visceral reaction to opening canned dogfood was much worse.

Getting back downstairs, I was greatly relieved to see my dog had eaten his canned food. He was eating, and that meant he was going to get better and stronger!

Since those early days, I have grown more accustomed to the smell and texture of canned dogfood. I’m adopting it as a part of my life now because I want Gimbel to thrive.

A quick search on the Internet suggests it costs about $2,000 a year for dog ownership. As Gimbel is turning 10, I’ve invested about $20,000 in a wiggly 7.4- pound toy poodle.  

Gimbel may be small, but he plays with my grandchildren when they visit. When friends or family are feeling out-of-sorts, he is quick to rush over and put out his paws for petting.  

He is the perfect lap dog and often eases my COVID/crazy world anxiety.

When I am sick, hurting, sad or sleeping, Gimbel tries to make himself as big as possible to offer as many square inches of his love and comfort as he can muster to help me feel better. How could I do any less for him?

It really does help to have him around. Gimbel is a member of my family that eats canned dogfood.

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Please contact David Tollefson with thoughts or comments on this or future columns at: adtollef@hcinet.net