Suzan Anson - Bone Appétit!: Gourmet Cooking for Your Dog

1989 by Suzan Anson

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any forms or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission from the publisher.

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 88-60799

ISBN: 0-942257-13-8

Editor: Judy Knipe

Cover and book design: Barbara Marks

Illustrations: Bunny Matthews

For

Emily

and

Raku

I would like to thank Dr. Russell Petro, Dr. Susan Petro and Dr. Regina Schwabe for their careful review of the manuscript and professional suggestions. I would also like to thank Dr. Ben E. Sheffy, Paspari Professor of Nutrition, the James A. Baker Institute for Animal Health, the New York State College of Veterinary Medicine at Cornell University, Chairperson of the National Research Councils Subcommittee on Dog Nutrition for up-to-date information on labeling practices in the commercial dog food industry. Thanks to Sue Hamlin, of the James A. Baker Institute for Animal Health, for her help in providing Dr. Sheffys tables on canine nutrition. I would also like to thank National Academy Press for making their nutritional charts available ( Nutrient Requirements of Dogs, Revised 1985 .) 1985 National Academy of Sciences.

Im, grateful for the friends who contributed recipes, dog stories and support: Joseph Adams, my son Rory Anson, Maryanne Furedi, Erin Martin, Sue Hadley, Harriette Podhoretz, and Richard Raderman.

This project would have been impossible without my husband, John Kirkley, who not only provides a nurturing environment for the dogs and me, but is always there for consultation, support, and technical assistance.

Special thanks go to Judy Knipe for translating the dog recipes into proper cookbook form. And last, but certainly not least, my inspiration and taste-testing crew: Emily, Raku and Jezebel, for their doggie joy and boundless enthusiasm for new tastes.

T he idea for Bone Apptit! came to me several years ago when we began restoring our newly acquired house, a distressed, rambling Victorian. At that time, our household consisted of two adults, one teen-age boy, two cats, and Emily and Raku, two middle-aged whippets. The cats, hardy souls, adapted immediately to the new environment. But Emily, a sensitive dog, was off her food, upset by the trauma of the move into a distressed house, bombarded by the noise of workmen, rock n roll music, and a constant stream of adolescent boys emulating rock heroes with their own guitars.

I set out to soothe Emily. At mealtime she stood patiently in the red, chartreuse, and yellow kitchen with its greasy cabinets and gazed blankly at the giant peonies on the wet-look vinyl wallpaper. I hoped her lack of appetite wasnt related to the aesthetics of the room. I opened a can of dog food, trying to hide my disgust as its smell permeated the kitchen. Stirring the pasty mush from the can into some packaged kibble, I coaxed, Atta girl, good Em, heres your dinner ... mmmmmmmm ... good girl. Good girl.

Her chocolate-brown eyes darted nervously at the food, then back to me, then back to the food. She turned and padded quietly out of the kitchen. Once again, I was left, frustrated, with another uneaten dish of top-of-the-line dog food. We both grew thinner.

It was a joke in the family. But Mom, they hate everything, my son said At the pet supply store my husband bought every canned and packaged dog food available, and we set them out for Em in an amazing number of permutations and combinationswithout success. Maybe this is the wrong approach, we reasoned, and we bought bottom-of-the-line dog food that smelled so terrible we had to evacuate the kitchen while it sat uneaten.

We weighed the arguments of the hard-line behaviorists:

1. Letem starve, i.e., when a dog wont eat its because the owner had no self-discipline. When the dog gets hungry enough, it will eat.

2. Dogs love monotony. If you give the dog table scraps, it will become spoiled and its digestion will be ruined.

Meanwhile, Emily, never robust, bacame reedier, her ribs prominent, her haunches exposed. This old dog had been with me for over twelve years, and I resolved that I was not going to let her starve herself to death. I decided to cook for her.

Fully aware that she could become an insatiable monster with a predilection for expensive delicacies, one day I would experiment with zucchini and oyster sauce over kibble; the next, fried eggs, rice, and chicken. Success! Emily eagerly awaited each days new fare. She brightened up, gained weight, and exhibited her old doggie joie de vivre.

One afternoon one of the house painters who seemed to have taken up residence with us came into the kitchen. What are you cooking? he asked. It smells great!

I paused, realizing that if I told him for whom the food was intended I wasnt going to sound sane. Finally I admitted, Im cooking for my dog.

Cooking for your dog? he roared.

Yes, I said more firmly, cooking for my dog.

He had a good laugh, but my embarrassment fueled my imagination. That night I dreamed that I was the owner of the first four-star dog restaurant. When I woke up, Emily was licking my face. It was time for breakfast.

SUZAN ANSON

Warwick, New York

September 1988

Lets spoil our dogs sometimes;

then we shall all be happy.

BARBARA WOODHOUSE

T he first dogs were foragers, digging in early mans scrap piles, hunting for their food. It is only in this century that prepackaged dog food has been available. The implications are startling: Dogs managed to survive as domesticated animals for at least eight thousand years without canned food, kibble, and rubbery nuggets in foil packets. Yet today most of us assume that commercial food is not just preferable, it is essential.

How did we lose all confidence in our ability to feed our animals people food, or wholesome table scraps and leftovers? Not surprisingly, as packaged dog food was made available, consumers were thrilled to find that they could feed their pets easily and conveniently, a boon for households where everyone was always going off to work. The manufacturers also knew they had to convince the public that their food was indeed balanced and nutritious for all dogs. As the dog food industry grew, it created and promoted a new myth: Unless a dog is fed commercial dog food, it will not thrive and grow; it will, in fact, be in danger of suffering from malnutrition.

The campaign worked. Gradually, dog owners came to feel that they were incompetent to provide a balanced diet for their pets unless it included packaged dog food. Most people are actually afraid to feed their dogs freshly prepared foodthe same food they feed themselves and their children.

But there is a minirevolution in the works because health-conscious consumers are starting to figure out that commercial food might be nutritionally inadequate (see appendix). Naturally, the dog food industry has an answer: upscale dog foodthat is, new packaging and marketing schemes. These are designed to fatten their profits while they still sell you the same old stuff (with, perhaps, some vitamins added). The packaging is more expensive, promising healthier rations well seasoned with snob appeal, and the rallying cries of every pet food commercial are now gourmet and premium.