Exercising the patience of 1,000 Buddhas

I have a dog, and her name is Susan.

She’s almost 8 months old as I write this: An incredibly smart, rather cute dog, and most importantly, I would give her my kidney if she ever needed one.

But GOD. She tests me every, single, day. How do dog owners cope? What are your secrets? One moment I’m whispering sweet nothings in her ear, and the next I’m resisting the great urge to smack her bum as she CHOOSES to misbehave WHILE maintaining eye contact.

I would urge myself to ignore that Cocker Spaniel Gaze™ where her eyes go border-radius: 100%. Instead, I choose to see the the gears spinning in her head, plotting.

”If I were to spit out this kibble, I will get something better.”

-Susan Lee, aged 7.2 months.

Yes. Thank you. I have finally encountered the famous picky eating behaviour from this allegedly “greedy and eager to please” Cocker Spaniel.

This has been ongoing for a little less than a month now, and every meal time has been filled with theatrics, frustration, wasted food, and words that I may or may not have directed towards my dog:

”Won’t you THINK about the hungry dogs in AFRICA!?”

or the common-

”FINE! STARVE! See if I CARE!” (spoiler alert: I do, and always will, so I went back and apologized for the unexpected outburst.)

The frustration is that she needs to eat to build muscle, as she goes for swimming rehabilitation (they stress that she’s not eating enough every time I’m there), as recommended by our canine osteopath.

Therefore our friend Susan needs to eat. Which, she has decided, is not going to happen because the food offering is decidedly subpar.

We’ve taken her to the vet, had her checkups, and there’s nothing wrong with her appetite. All treats are most welcome and inhaled, all food in the form of a meal is a big no.

Fantastic timing too, because I JUST purchased an 11.4kg bag of premium dog food, and maybe made a 500g dent before it’s been left unopened forever. Worried, we bought high-grade can food, desperate for her to eat. She accepted it once; and proceeded to turn her nose from it at her next meal.

Fools that we were, we’ve also gone out late in the evening to purchase new Organic, Grass-Fed-Turkeys-Baked-in-Canada kibble, which she consumed for two meals. And spat it out on the third.

Don’t even get me started on the peanut butter and chicken broth concoctions.

Finally, in our desperation, we bought some slow-cooked, meticulously crafted dog food by a certified European nutritionist whose face is printed on the packet (I call it Gucci Food), which ended up being successful. She loved it. I’ve not seen her so excited about her meal in about 25 years now, and she even licked her bowl clean.

Until the second day came, and she decided it’s not good enough anymore.

I’ve tried rewarding her with treats when she ate her food. Mixed her kibble with other fun things, but Susan the Selective would separate them via her nose, and consume only the fun things. I’ve begged. Coaxed. Praised. Did a song and dance. We’ve even made aeroplane sounds, and attempted to gently shove it in her mouth when she yawned (she excitedly chewed it and spat it out).

Like idiots, we’ve also made a commotion by pretending the food in her bowl was the most exciting thing ever. Tried to serve it via her toy, pretended to eat it ourselves….

She would look at us from a far, turn around and walk away.

I am SO CLOSE to locking her in her crate with her food, exit only permitted once everything is consumed (as recommended by some internet experts). But my final words to her on this matter was:

”Starvation will win.”

She looked at me with her big, round eyes, expecting a bite of my pizza as I slowly chewed the bread, contemplating. Her tongue licked her nose, indicating interest.

”Absolutely not.”

As if on instinct, her eyes became glassier. Her beautiful ears drooped down a little as if weighted; and her head tilted at an angle— giving me her prettiest gaze underneath her thick lashes.

“Sincerely, Susan, you are very pretty but I’m regretfully immune.” And with that, I finished my pizza and walked away.

Actual picture of a Susan observing me eat my pizza from afar before strutting over

New plan: Starvation

I gave her the Gucci Food in a bowl. She sniffed it, licked her mouth, ignored it, and turned her nose away.

”Are you sure? You’ll be getting nothing else.”

She glanced behind, then towards the ceiling as if willing heaven above for strength.

(Yes she is quite sassy at times, you really need to meet her during mealtimes!)

I took the food away from her, and went about my day. No treats, no dental chews, no coaxing, no alternatives. I could SEE that she expected a different offering, like before. I repeated this approach twice more, 2-3 hours in between, unaffected by my 100% rejection rate. By the third time, I could see something click in her gaze.

Nothing else was forthcoming.

By the fourth attempt, I’ve “downgraded” the food offering to pesky high quality kibble (old and new mixed). She looked at me, and had the audacity to look hurt. Nose started to sniff.

Looking for Gucci food maybe?

”Come on, eat your food Suzie girl.”

She looked at the kibble. Sniffed it. Lied down. Looked sad. Looked at me. Fine. Kibble in my hand, I fed Empress Susan - ONE kibble at a time, and for the first time in what seemed like weeks, SHE ATE THE REST OF THE BOWL.

Slowly. Begrudgingly. Forlornly, our Susan started to eat it.

GOD.

She ate about 80% through, and started to separate the kibble, one by one, consuming only the new one. She huffed, turned her head away, leaving the old, expensive kibble behind. Nevertheless. I recognize victories when I see one, albeit small, but I’ll take it.

I think. I think I’ve finally experienced the promised “high intelligence” that comes with a Cocker Spaniel. It’s been such a frustrating period, and I’m still working through it, but it’s always a dilemma of, am I enabling her behaviour? But she needs to eat. Maybe she’s bored? It’s fair that she’s bored. Is she ill? Is it because she’s sore? Is it because she can sense something is wrong with the food? But she’s had at least 6 variations of different kinds of foods by now. Is she manipulating me? Isn’t she a dog? Did I sign up for a human child? But I love her. I don’t want her to starve. Susan, I just want you to be healthy and strong and happy and live forever. Susan. SUSAN. For God’s sake Susan, you would rather eat twigs and some stranger dog shit but not your meal?

In spite it all, I really do love my dog. I look at her, and she looks at me, and suddenly, the frustration melts away. I tell her that I will commit to providing her Gucci food for the rest of her life if she so wants it, and I’ll eat beans and air for the next 10 years if need be.

But really, Susan, for the love of all things round, can you please just eat your food?

Update 19/11: So far we’ve tried 2 different types of kibbles, 4 different kinds of wet foods, all sorts of homemade dog-safe-human foods, soaking her food in bone broth (thank you Brown Sugar Ollie!), soaking her food in chicken stock, added food toppers, and even tried cooked meat. The only thing that she doesn’t mind eating willingly is the crust of my pizza, the skin of my Korean Oven Fried Chicken.

I finally hired a dog trainer to assess her for an hour, after ruling out health issues from the vet, and the outcome of it is that she has the case of extreme picky eating. Thanks, Suze.