Up until just before Christmas 2008, she was happy and seemed comfortable. She still enjoyed her walks, would go for short gallops ahead of me, then stop and look back as if to check I was still coming. She loved her food, mainly raw, or tenderly home cooked by me. Changing Sky’s food to home-made had worked a miracle for her in 2006, but the best diet in the world is not going to keep an old dog alive forever.

The first sign that something was amiss was when she declined her daily walk, turning back at the gate and slowly re-entering the house. Then she started leaving some of her food. The Vet. found nothing untoward, but the next development was rapid, laboured breathing and sudden weight loss.

Xrays and blood tests showed Sky to be anaemic and having a slightly enlarged heart. The Vet. thought her immediate problem was probably a bleeding tumour somewhere, probably in her spleen. No masses were palpable in her abdomen.

Here’s the thing: you have an old dog; you know the time will come when something will end her life. But nothing really prepares you for having to make the decision of when.
I had to weigh up the stress of surgery for her at her age (17) against the time it would buy her if it was successful. And of course, there were financial considerations as well.

Medication relieved Sky’s symptoms somewhat, and while the whole family was gathered together for Christmas, we debated what to do. We decided that on a daily basis we would assess Sky’s comfort level. If she deteriorated again, we would give her a peaceful end.

Sky enjoyed her last Christmas – re-acquainting herself with people she had not been with for a long time, eating tidbits, creeping under the Christmas tree (a mysterious activity she has done every Christmas – we think she liked the smell, or perhaps the feel of the pine needles gently scraping her back).

A few days later she began to show signs of discomfort again and now, the medications that had been helping her symptoms, began to lose their effect. The day came when she looked so miserable, I knew it had to be her last.
The Vet. very kindly came to the house, which saved Sky the stress of going to the clinic, which she hated, having been there many times for surgery for skin cancer.

Afterwards, Sky looked so peaceful, I was plagued by concern that perhaps I had left it too long. Did she suffer? Was she in pain? I do not know, but I do know I made the right choice.

Sky is buried in a friend’s pet graveyard, on a property where she loved to hunt rabbits when she was younger. It’s a lovely position on a grassy knoll, where daisies, agapanthus and a rambling rose grow against a fence. Many family pets and working dogs have been buried there over three generations. She is in fine company.

We have been enjoying the most glorious Autumn (that’s Fall if you are in America) weather here in New Zealand (well, the part I live in, anyway) and I’ve been far too busy in the garden to be at the computer writing (so my blog suffers, oh well…). You know, those fantastic, golden days with the sky so blue and the leaves on trees all shades of red, brown, orange, yellow and purple. Sky and I have been taking long walks. I love to see her running enthusiastically ahead of me, stopping suddenly to investigate a wonderful smell then taking off again to the next clump of reeds or bushes.

I’m grateful for the golden weather; grateful that I am able to live in such a beautiful part of the world; grateful for many things. But I’m especially grateful that I still have Sky, who is 16 now, though you’d never guess it. To see her now, it’s hard to imagine that two years ago she was so low in her health I was thinking she would have to be put to sleep. Family and friends who have witnessed the change in her are amazed.

How did it happen? Simple: I changed the way I feed her! I stopped feeding her expensive “special formula for senior dogs” kibble and started feeding her with what I call “real food.” Her general well-being and vitality improved dramatically within six weeks. It was like a miracle.

Since then, I have become passionately interested in dog nutrition. I’ve done hours of reading and research; I’ve found that others have had similar experiences: some have unfortunately lost their dogs so I consider myself very lucky that I still have Sky. The awful pet food scandal of March 2007 erupted, with thousands of pets dying from being fed artificial food. This doubly convinced me that I was right to keep feeding Sky with real food.

If you are trying to find information about feeding options for your dog, maybe getting confused by conflicting advice, I invite you to signup for my FREE* 7-day ecourse: 7 steps to a longer, healthier life for your dog. I will share with you what I have found about the following issues:

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• Calculating how much to feed.
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• What foods you must never give your dog.
• When you just can’t use “real” food – learning to read the labels.

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There’s no charge, and you’ll have no more confusion.
Here’s to a long and happy life with your dog

“Real” food saved me from having my dog, Sky, put down. It’s true. In late 2006, she was visibly old, stiff, lame in one shoulder and reluctant to move, showed no interest in life and spent 23 hours a day sleeping. She had even started wetting her bed in preference to making the effort to go outdoors. Counting on my fingers, I realised she was 14 years old! The time every dog owner fears was upon me. It was time to say good-bye. I couldn’t bear it! She had been a part of the family for so long. She had been my comfort in so many difficult times.

That night, as if she read my thoughts, Sky refused her premium brand dog biscuits, specially formulated for senior dogs. I served her a portion of the family meal, which was beef casserole and vegetables and she ate it all up. I decided that if her days were numbered, it didn’t matter what she ate, so I continued sharing family meals with her, while I procrastinated about her final visit to the Vet.

Six weeks later, it was Christmas time and family members who had been overseas came home to visit. My daughter remarked straight away that Sky was looking good.

“What have you been doing with her?” she asked. “Have you found a miracle drug?”

Without thinking, I responded “No, I’ve been feeding her with real food.”

And so, the phrase “real food” in our household was born. We still have Sky after eighteen months. She is 16 years old, but she is as lively and energetic as she was ten years ago, although she’s not quite fast enough any more to catch rabbits. I am still feeding her real food; indeed, I would never again subject a dog or cat to food from a packet or can – what I call artificial or junk food for pets. I make all Sky’s food myself, using human grade ingredients suitable for dogs. I find it no more expensive than feeding her the so-called premium dog food I used to give her, and no more trouble than preparing food for the rest of the family. 

Sky’s final visit to the Vet looks to be a long way into the future.

Sky is a regular visitor to my local Vet. clinic. She is contiually developing small, pre-cancerous skin lesions on her abdomen due to the fact that she has pink skin with very sparse, fine hair there, and she loves to sunbathe. I have several measures in place to thwart her sun-seeking bent, but it is amazing how clever she is at finding ways to defeat me.

So, every few months, Sky has to have new little spots frozen off. My Vet. does this with the help of a gentle sedation for Sky. Occasionally, we miss one and it grows rapidly into an ugly, purplish cancer, which then requires surgery under general anaesthetic. This had happened again and Sky was booked in for her operation a couple of weeks ago. Sky is 16 years old now, which means that my Vet. wanted to be particularly careful with her anaesthetic and with the choice of drugs Sky was given.

Everything went well, and I collected a rather groggy Sky from the Vet’s  according to plan. Only, this time, it was soon apparent to me that something was wrong with Sky. Instead of settling down to sleep off the aftermath of her anaesthetic in the warm quiet place I had prepared for her, Sky was restless, prowling around and seeming disorientated. I thought she might be in pain, but I remembered the nurse had told me they had  given her an injection for pain relief just before I collected her.

I thought she might settle down later in the evening, but far from it. In fact, she kept me up most of the night, prowling around, howling (very uncharactistic behaviour for her),  generally behaving as if she could see ghosts, and as if she was unaware of my presence.

Towards morning, she finally relaxed and we both got a couple of hours’ sleep.

A phone call to my Vet. later in the day confirmed my suspicions: in their efforts to be super safe with the drugs they used on such an old dog, they had given her a different pain killer from the one they routinely used. As a human health care professional, I knew that the particular drug they had given her can cause some patients to have hallucinations. Poor Sky had been having a “bad trip”. I asked the Vet. to make a note of her reaction so that they would not use this drug for Sky again.

If this happens to your dog, don’t panic. There is not much that can be done; you will just have to ride it out until the medication wears off. All you can do is make sure the dog is in a safe environment where it can come to no harm. Do not let the dog go outside except on a lead. The medication will wear off in a few hours.

As a precaution for the future, make sure you let your Vet know what happened. If your Vet. confirms an adverse drug reaction, make sure you record the name of the drug for future reference.  

So it was with my dog, Sky, until one day, for the first time ever, she declined to follow the farm bike on its daily trek of three kilometers to the furthest boundary of the farm. She came with us about half a kilometer, then, while I was stopped to open a gate, she gave me “sad eyes” and a “slow wag”, turned around and went back to the house.

I was worried something was wrong with her, but her temperature and appetite were normal and she did not seem to be in pain. Her bowel motions were normal, too.

When I gave the matter some thought, I realized that she did have some stiffness in one shoulder that was maybe worse recently than it had been. Other than that, I could find nothing wrong with her.

A visit to the vet confirmed that she was in good health, but did have a bit of arthritis in her stiff shoulder.
“How old is she now?” asked the vet. I worked out her age, and was astonished to find she was about twelve years old!

She actually never came to the back of the farm again. She would come part of the way, then return to the house, usually when we came to the first gate.

That’s the thing about pets – their life-spans are so short compared with ours. So there’s another life lesson our pets help us to remember: make the most of every day you have and be grateful for it – whatever age you live to, life is short.

I always wish we knew Sky’s background. She came to us looking well-fed and cared for, and very well-mannered. She was a hunter at heart, and taking her breed into consideration, she may have belonged to someone who hunted wild pigs. She never showed any interest in domestic animals, including cats, but she was lethal to rabbits, possums and rodents.

 The house was on the top of a hill, with a great view of the whole farm and Sky’s white coat made her easy to observe. Every day she would go off on a mission to investigate every patch of brambles, bushes and trees on the farm. She would be away for hours, often returning with a rabbit or a rat. Her patience and persistence were great lessons in how to succeed in life: I once observed her daily assault on a pile of logs in which she knew a rat was hiding. It took her six days, but she got that rat!

During a period when I was away overseas, Sky stayed with farming friends who had a Jack Russell terrier named Katie. Katie and Sky teamed up to become a deadly threat to the possum population on the farm. They made frequent expeditions to the back of the farm, returning most days with Sky proudly carrying a rabbit or possum, and once a ferret, in her powerful jaws.

Sky’s two other great passions in life are food and sunbathing, both of which have to be restricted for her – she tends towards obesity now that she is old and less active and her white coat (which has always been fine and sparse) and pink skin make her susceptible to skin cancer.

Sky’s hunting takes place only in her dreams now, but I’d say, judging by sounds and body movements she often makes during sleep, that she catches a fair few critters.

Within 24 hours this dog had completely won me over, so that when all efforts failed to find her owner, she simply stayed. It was the middle of winter – short, cold, wet days and continually grey skies. My daughter said “She reminds me of the sky in summer. I’m going to call her Sky”.

That was fifteen years ago. My daughter went off overseas and left me with Sky, who remains an important member of the family to this day.

I created this blog in honour of an old dog who has been possibly the best dog I have ever shared my life with. Her name is Sky.
She has taught me many things.

There came a time in her life when I thought her days were numbered. I changed her diet and her health improved dramatically. When I talked to my vet about this miracle, he seemed uninterested, shrugging it off as coincidence.

That was in late 2006. Since then, we have had the drama and scandal of the pet food recall, in March 2007. This was of great interest to me and prompted me to embark on weeks of research, which answered most of my questions about why my dog’s health improved and why my vet showed so little interest.

My intention with this site is to share with you our story in the hope that you, too, may find the way to a longer, healthier, improved life for your dog.