And we exhale.

Thank God. We made it through.

So we start backing off.

Sometimes that is exactly what we should do. But sometimes we back off too far, too fast, or with absolutely no plan for what comes next. That is the part I think we need to talk about more, because healing requires consistency — but consistency does not mean blindly doing the same thing forever. And it definitely does not mean continuing something that is not working, or worse, continuing something that is creating another problem.

There is a huge difference between being consistent and being stubborn.

If I am supporting a dog and something is clearly helping, I want to give the body enough time to respond. I do not want to jump from protocol to protocol every three days because somebody in a Facebook group mentioned something new. But I also do not believe in saying, “Well, this is what we started with, so this is what we have to keep doing.”

No.

Bodies change. Needs change. The acute phase is not the same as the recovery phase, and the recovery phase is not the same as maintenance. Sometimes the thing that helped us get through the crisis can become too much later. That is why observation matters. That is why side effects matter.

I think we sometimes underestimate how much those unintended effects can interfere with complete healing. You may have started something to reduce inflammation, control pain, settle the gut, suppress itching, support seizures, or treat an infection. But what if along the way we create diarrhea, appetite loss, liver stress, kidney stress, lethargy, gut disruption, or a dog who technically has one symptom under control but now feels lousy in another way?

We cannot become so focused on fixing the first problem that we ignore the second one we created. That is not healing. That is trading problems. And sometimes those secondary problems quietly become the thing that keeps the body from fully recovering.

This is why I am such a fan of tracking what we do. Not obsessively. Not because I think every dog mom needs a giant spreadsheet taped to her refrigerator. But because memory lies to us.

We think, “Oh yes, he has been on that for a while.”

How long?

We think, “She was doing better before.”

When?

We think, “I don’t think that caused the diarrhea.”

Did the diarrhea start before or after?

Write it down. What are you using? How much? How often? What changed? What improved? What got worse? What did bloodwork look like before? What does it look like now?

That turns “I think this is helping” into something we can actually evaluate.

And this becomes even more important when we are dealing with predispositions, because one of the hardest things for people to act on is something they cannot see. If your dog is limping, you respond. If your dog is vomiting, you respond. If your dog has a seizure, you respond. If your dog has a giant angry skin flare, you respond.

But what about the dog who looks perfectly fine today and comes from a breed or family line with a known tendency toward heart disease, IVDD, cruciate injury, arthritis, seizures, pancreatitis, kidney disease, liver disease, diabetes, Cushing’s, thyroid disease, chronic inflammatory skin disease, or certain cancers?

That is where people tend to wait, because there is nothing to “fix” yet.

And I get it. It is hard to spend time, money, and effort supporting something when your dog is standing in front of you wagging his tail and looking perfectly normal. But normal today does not mean there is nothing happening underneath.

Predisposition is information. It is not destiny. But it is a heads-up.

And I would much rather use that heads-up than pretend I never got it.

If I have a dog with a predisposition toward DCM or other heart disease, I am not waiting until that dog is coughing, fainting, struggling with exercise, or showing structural changes before I start caring about heart health. I am already thinking about body condition, diet quality, nutrients that matter for that dog, inflammation, exercise tolerance, Omega-3s, metabolic health, and whether more proactive cardiac monitoring makes sense.

If I have a dachshund, I am not waiting for a ruptured disc before I care about muscle, weight, core strength, jumping, flooring, stairs, inflammation, and spine protection.

If I have a breed prone to cruciate injuries, I am not waiting for the ligament to tear before I care about muscle condition and joint support.

If I have a dog with a family history or breed predisposition toward cancer, I am not waiting for the diagnosis before I think about fresh food, pesticide exposure, flea and tick chemicals, chronic inflammation, weight, detoxification pathways, gut health, and environmental load.

It does not mean we panic. It means we pay attention early. That is a very different thing.

I think about Huey a lot when I talk about this. We worked hard on his mobility. And I mean hard. When you are in the middle of rehab, you are committed because the problem is right there in front of you. You are going to appointments, doing exercises, stretching, watching every step, and spending the money because you can see why it matters.

I have done the same thing with Poppy’s knee. Months of work. Months of intentional movement, rehab, strengthening, support, PEMF, laser, supplements, watching how she used the leg, paying attention to what made her better and what made her worse.

But here is where people get tripped up: the paid rehab ends, the dog improves, and somehow we start thinking the work is over.

Why?

If you tore your knee apart and spent months in physical therapy, your therapist would eventually discharge you. That does not mean you are supposed to go home and spend the rest of your life on the couch. You still have to move. You still have to maintain muscle. You still have to protect what you rebuilt. You still need the gym.

Maybe you do not go six days a week anymore. Maybe you are not doing the same exercises at the same intensity. But you do not throw the entire thing away simply because the crisis is over.

Dogs are no different.

And I am looking at this right now with Poppy’s mast cell tumor. It is gone. There is a scar. That is what I can see, and I am grateful every single time I look at her.

But I am not looking at that scar and thinking, “Whew. Done. Nothing else to think about.”

Because Poppy’s body has already told me something.

She made a mast cell tumor.

That matters to me.

I am not treating a tumor that is no longer there. I am supporting the dog who developed it.

That means I am still thinking about immune health, inflammation, fresh food, body condition, environmental exposures, gut health, lymphatic movement, detoxification, appropriate supplements, Omega-3s, mushrooms, monitoring, checking her body, and watching for changes.

And yes, some of what we did intensively around surgery and recovery gets scaled back. Of course it does.

But “scale back” and “stop caring” are not the same thing.

That is the piece I think people miss.

Healing should have phases. Sometimes we go hard. Sometimes we support gently. Sometimes we rotate. Sometimes we pulse. Sometimes we reduce frequency. Sometimes we lower the dose. Sometimes we stop something entirely because it did its job. Sometimes we bring it back seasonally. Sometimes bloodwork tells us to change direction. Sometimes the dog tells us before the bloodwork ever does.

That is what I mean when I say consistency.

It is not mindless repetition.

It is staying engaged.

It is continuing to ask, “What does this dog need now?”

Not what did they need three months ago. Not what worked for somebody else’s dog. Not what a protocol says they are supposed to need forever.

What does this dog need now?

And this is probably the least glamorous part of holistic health. There is no dramatic before-and-after photo. No emergency. No crisis. Nobody is applauding because you kept your dog lean, strong, mobile, metabolically healthy, and supported for another year.

Nobody sees the quiet work.

But that quiet work matters.

It is easy to show up when your dog is sick. The fear makes you show up.

The real challenge is continuing to show up when they look good again.

That is where maintenance lives. That is where prevention lives. And very often, that is where the long game of healing lives too.

My goal is never to have a dog on twenty things forever. My goal is to know why we are doing what we are doing, watch the response, adjust when needed, and continue supporting the systems that have already shown us they need attention.

Sometimes healing is aggressive. Sometimes healing is quiet.

But almost always, healing asks us to stay involved long after the obvious symptom disappears.

Graphic representation of the YL essential oil singles and blends and what they are commonly used for. Quick snippets. Dozen…

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Glucosamine.

For decades, glucosamine has been one of those almost automatic recommendations for arthritis and aging joints.

But researchers recently published a study in Nature Metabolism looking at glucosamine and Alzheimer’s disease, and what they found is worth paying attention to.

In people with mild cognitive impairment, regular glucosamine use was associated with about a 25% greater risk of progressing to dementia.

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The short answer: I would not rely on meat fiber alone to support the canine microbiome. Especially, if there are health issues present.

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Tuesday Oct 13, 7pm ET

Register to attended here: https://zoom.us/meeting/register/DRr5Qh8URoyqo8ZOyd1abQ

Save t…

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Prefer FB? Join the FB group for paid members only: https://facebook.com/groups/letstalkdogswithdana

This is the…

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Mast cell tumor? There’s a protocol.

Seizures? Protocol.

Kidney disease? Protocol.

Pancreatitis? Protocol.

Allergies? Someb…

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And if your dog has been a little… off lately, I want you to pay attention.

Earth is our stabilizing, grounding element. It is deeply connected to digestion, nourishment, muscles, routine, emotional security and the Spleen/Stomach system.

When Earth gets wobbly, you may notice:

🐾 softer or loose stools
🐾 gurgly belly, gas or nausea
🐾 yeast, funky ears or paw licking
🐾 feeling heavy or sluggish
🐾 weight gain with poor muscle tone
🐾 increased food cravings
🐾 clinginess or worry
🐾 difficulty settling
🐾 seeming mentally “muddled” or less focused
🐾 symptoms that seem worse in our lovely hot, HUMID late-summer weather

Sound familiar?

This is also a season when I pay extra attention to the gut.

Not just “give a probiotic and call it good.”

I’m looking at the food itself. Digestion. Starch load. Microbiome. Yeast. Inflammation. Stress. Muscle strength. Even what is happening emotionally in the home.

Because an Earth dog can sometimes absorb the household like a furry little sponge. 💛

A few simple Earth-season ideas:

🥣 Feed real, moisture-rich, easily digestible food.

🌱 Think about gentle digestive herbs such as ginger, chamomile, slippery elm or marshmallow when they fit the dog.

💧 Watch the dampness. A yeasty, overweight, inflamed dog probably does NOT need us piling on starch just because pumpkin appears on every dog-health list ever written.

🌿 Essential oils such as Vetiver, Frankincense, Lavender, Roman Chamomile or Cedarwood may be beautiful choices for emotional grounding.

For digestive support, Ginger, Fennel, Cardamom or Coriander may have a place too.

🚶 Keep them moving. Earth also relates to muscle strength, and this is especially important for our seniors.

🏡 And simplify the chaos where you can: predictable meals, routine, rest, movement and connection.

Earth is the Mother of Life.

It asks us to come back to center—to nourish the body, strengthen the gut, ground the nervous system and pay attention to what our dogs are trying to tell us.

And yep… sometimes the loose poop and the worried dog are part of the same conversation.

I wrote a much deeper look at Earth dogs, including food, digestion, dampness, yeast, herbs, essential oils, emotional patterns and seasonal support here:

👉 https://welloiledk9.com/health/season-of-earth-for-dogs

Is your dog showing any Earth-y behavior or symptoms right now? I’d especially love to know if you’ve noticed a shift with the humidity and seasonal change. 🌎🐾

Lymphatics, senior dogs, parasite follow-up — plus some changes at The WellOiledK9 and a favor I need from you.

Hi friends,

I owe you a little bit of a do-over.

Last week’s newsletter didn’t quite make it out the way it was supposed to, but I’m actually glad we’re catching it now because August’s parasite work, September lymphatics, and what I’ve been thinking about with our senior dogs all connect.

The common thread is movement.

Moving fluid. Moving waste. Moving nutrients. Maintaining muscle.

And quite literally — keeping the dog moving.

For our seniors especially, I want us to stop automatically accepting every change as:

“Well… he’s getting old.”

Aging changes the dog. Absolutely.

But that doesn’t mean we stop asking what we can support.

🐛 First: How Did Your August Parasite Support Go?

If you participated in the August parasite protocol, I want to hear how it went.

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Recent animal research found that pulsed magnetic field therapy helped protect kidney tissue during acute inflammatory kidney injury — with improvements in inflammation, oxidative stress, cellular damage and kidney markers.

Now, this was **rat research — not a clinical study in dogs with chronic kidney disease** — so I’m not calling PEMF a kidney treatment.

But this is exactly why I keep watching PEMF research.

But you can bet I’d add PEMF to the protocol!

When I’m supporting a dog with kidney concerns, I’m rarely thinking about **one thing** anyway.

I’m looking at:

• fresh, moisture-rich nutrition

• phosphorus and protein appropriate for *that dog*

• hydration

• inflammation and oxidative stress

• circulation

• herbs and nutritional support

• and potentially modalities such as PEMF

Then we can layer in other tools.

**Juniper essential oil** is one oil traditionally used in animal aromatherapy protocols for kidney support, along with Helichrysum, Grapefruit and others.

And there’s another interesting option: **K&B — Kidney & Bladder — tincture**, which can be incorporated into the diet and is specifically discussed for kidney and urinary support.

This is where holistic care gets much more interesting than simply asking:

**“What supplement should I give for kidney disease?”**

The better question is: **What combination of food, herbs, oils, hydration and supportive modalities makes sense for THIS dog?**

That’s the work I love.

Visit my website for more info on kidney health and PEMF.

please use my affiliate links if you shop!

I’ve been told there were healers in my family generations ago. Not doctors in the formal sense, but the people who knew which plants to gather, which herbs to use, what to put on a wound, and what to do when someone was sick or injured. I don’t know their names, I don’t know exactly what they knew, and unfortunately there is no handwritten family remedy book tucked away somewhere for me to inherit.

What I do have are stories. And as I’ve gotten older, and as my own work has taken me deeper into nutrition, herbs, essential oils, Reiki, muscle testing, animal communication, energy work and natural healing, I’ve wondered more than once whether some part of this was always going to find me.

See your vet for a diagnosis and then you and I can collaborate on a custom strategy for your dog’s health.

That distinction is especially important in an article about intuition. I don’t believe intuition replaces diagnostics, veterinary medicine or education. I do believe there are times when it makes us pay closer attention, ask a question we might not otherwise have asked, or recognize that there may be another piece of the story we haven’t found yet.

This is a personal reflection on my family history, my experiences and my beliefs. It is not intended to prove that healing ability is inherited, and the historical remedies described here are family stories, not treatment recommendations.

My Grandmother Had a Remedy for Everything

My grandmother owned a general store that also sold fresh fish, and some of my clearest memories of her are tied to the remedies she kept around and used without much fanfare.

One of them was something we called Pine-Ol, a pine-oil liniment. That bottle apparently had a job description that included nearly everything. Bug bites, poison ivy, wounds, skin irritations—you name it, and Pine-Ol was probably coming out.

One day my uncle was scaling fish in the back of the store. I rounded the corner, hit the slippery floor and slid underneath the ice maker. A piece of metal hanging down caught my shin and gashed it badly. I still remember what happened next: out came the Pine-Ol. It was poured on my leg, and I was basically told, “You’ll be fine.”

Apparently there was no further discussion required.

For the record, I still have a divot in my leg and the scar to prove that Grandma’s confidence did not necessarily amount to reconstructive surgery.

And no, I am not suggesting anyone hunt down an old bottle of pine liniment and start pouring it into an open wound. This was another generation, another time and a family story. What stayed with me was how normal reaching for a remedy seemed. There was no philosophical discussion about “natural medicine.” Nobody called it holistic wellness. There were simply things people knew how to use, and when someone needed help, they used what they knew.

Then There Is the Story Nobody Can Quite Explain

Another family story has always fascinated me. My dad and his brother were badly burned when a radiator blew up on them. These were not minor burns. My dad’s injuries were severe enough that he had to wear what has been described to me as basically a soft mesh “dress” because regular clothing couldn’t be allowed to stick to his skin.

Someone in the family was called because that person apparently knew what to do.

I wish I had more details, but I don’t. The story that survived is that this relative arrived with lotions, potions or some sort of preparations and “took the burn out.” Nobody still alive seems to remember exactly what was used. There is no recipe, no ingredient list and no notebook describing what that person did. Was it herbal? A plant oil? A salve? Something completely ordinary to that person but extraordinary to everyone else? I have no idea.

What I do know is that my dad healed, and he had no scars.

I would give almost anything to know what was in those preparations.

How Much Knowledge Did We Lose?

That story makes me think about how much knowledge disappeared as generations changed. For most of human history, people learned this kind of thing from another person. Someone knew which plants to gather because someone before them had shown them. They knew what to dry, steep, grind, apply or avoid because that knowledge had been handed down.

Then families moved. Medicine advanced. Convenience changed the way people lived. Remedies that once had to be made could be purchased instead, and traditions that had once seemed ordinary became old-fashioned, unnecessary or simply forgotten. Sometimes the person who knew died before anyone realized how much information was going with them.

My family’s mysterious burn preparation is a perfect example. Whatever that relative knew may be gone now, and I find that incredibly sad.

Maybe that’s also part of why I feel so strongly about studying, documenting and teaching what I learn today. I don’t want useful knowledge to live only inside one person’s head and disappear when that person is gone.

And Then There Are the Things I Just Know

This is where the family stories start to feel much less distant from the work I do today.

There is knowledge you can study, experience you accumulate, and then there are those moments when something simply comes to you. A question pops into my head that I had not been consciously working toward. I feel strongly that I should ask about a particular symptom, food, medication, event, behavior or part of the dog’s history. Sometimes I suggest looking at something that, on the surface, seems to have very little to do with the reason the pet parent contacted me.

And more than once I’ve heard, “How did you know that?”

I’ve also heard, “There’s no way you could have known that.”

Sometimes I can tell you exactly how I knew. I’ve seen the pattern before. Something in the history reminds me of another dog, a nutritional issue, a medication response, a gut pattern or a combination of symptoms I’ve learned to recognize over years of working with dogs.

Other times, I can’t tell you where the question came from. It just did.

I don’t feel the need to turn that into something theatrical or mystical, but I’m also long past dismissing it just because I can’t immediately explain it. I’ve had enough of those moments to know that when the nudge is strong, I should at least listen to it.

Reiki Taught Me to Get Quiet Enough to Notice

My work with Reiki for dogs has probably made me even more aware of this kind of information. Reiki taught me to become quiet enough to notice what I am sensing instead of immediately trying to analyze everything.

Working with an animal in that space can feel very different from sitting with a checklist and moving symptom by symptom. Sometimes my attention keeps returning to an area of the body. Sometimes there is an impression, a word, an image or simply a feeling that something deserves another look.

That doesn’t mean Reiki diagnosed anything. It means something got my attention, and that may give me another question to ask.

Sometimes the most useful thing intuition gives me isn’t an answer. It’s the question I wouldn’t otherwise have thought to ask.

Muscle Testing Is Another Way I Ask Questions

Muscle testing can play a similar role for me, particularly when a dog is complicated, sensitive or there are several possible directions we could explore. I don’t consider muscle testing a replacement for bloodwork, imaging, veterinary diagnostics or common sense. I use it as another tool for asking questions and helping narrow direction.

Sometimes it suggests that something is worth exploring further. Sometimes it points me away from something I had been considering. Sometimes it brings me right back to an issue that didn’t seem especially important the first time I looked at the history.

It doesn’t make the decision for me. It can help me decide where another question belongs.

Animal Communication Is Part of This Too

I am also certified in animal communication, although I don’t work as a professional animal communicator or offer it as the center of what I do. Still, I can’t pretend that ability doesn’t come into my work.

Sometimes I simply know something.

I don’t mean that I’ve worked it out logically or that the pet parent accidentally gave me enough clues to make a good guess. I mean a thought, an image, a feeling or a piece of information seems to arrive without any obvious reason for it to be there.

There have been enough occasions when someone has stopped me and said, “How did you know that?” or “There is absolutely no way you could have known that,” that I’ve learned not to brush those experiences aside.

I don’t always know how I knew, and I’m okay with that.

I don’t need to declare every impression a message from an animal. I also don’t need to explain every intuitive moment away as coincidence. Sometimes it may be animal communication. Sometimes it may be experience. Sometimes my brain may have picked up on tiny details before my conscious mind caught up. Sometimes I can only call it intuition.

Whatever the source, I treat that information the same way: not as proof and not as a diagnosis, but as a reason to pay attention and perhaps ask one more question.

Maybe Some of It Isn’t Coming From Nowhere

I also think we underestimate what happens after years of studying and working with dogs. I’ve looked at a lot of food histories, digestive issues, lab work, supplements, medications, behavior changes, pain patterns and dogs who simply weren’t thriving even though nobody could immediately explain why. At some point the brain begins making connections before you consciously work through every step.

That’s pattern recognition, and experience absolutely plays a role in what I do. But I don’t think pattern recognition explains every experience I’ve had either.

There have been times when nothing in my notes pointed directly toward what I suddenly felt compelled to ask. I wasn’t following a decision tree, and I wasn’t consciously remembering another case. The question simply showed up strongly enough that I asked it, and sometimes the answer has changed the entire direction of the conversation.

Maybe Reiki, muscle testing, animal communication and intuition are completely separate things. Maybe they overlap. Maybe becoming more aware of one makes you better able to notice the others. Maybe some of what we call intuition is the brain processing information faster than we can consciously explain it, and maybe animals communicate much more than most of us have been taught to believe.

I suspect there is more than one answer.

Intuition Doesn’t Replace What We Know

This is important because being intuitive doesn’t make me less interested in facts. Quite the opposite.

I want the bloodwork. I want the diagnosis. I want to know what the dog eats, what medications have been used, which supplements are being given, what the stool has been doing, whether appetite has changed, when the symptoms started and what happened before they started. I want to know about weight changes, behavior, stress, sleep, movement, pain, previous diagnoses and what has already been tried.

I want the whole dog.

My work as a Holistic Canine Health Practitioner brings together canine nutrition, aromatherapy, herbs, homeopathy education, Reiki, muscle testing, animal communication and years of working directly with dogs and their people.

One part of that work is analytical. I gather information, compare patterns and look for reasonable explanations. Another part is quieter. It’s the nudge that says, Ask about that. Go back to what she said earlier. Look at the gut. Ask when this really started. Something here doesn’t fit.

Sometimes I know exactly why that thought occurred to me, and sometimes I don’t. Either way, I don’t treat the thought as the answer. I treat it as a reason to ask a better question.

Intuition may point me toward the question. Education helps me understand the possibilities. Diagnostics help us determine what can actually be measured. Muscle testing may help guide direction. Reiki and animal communication may give me another perspective. Experience helps me decide which pieces deserve more attention and which ones probably don’t.

That is one of the harder parts of whole-dog work to describe because it isn’t always a straight line from symptom A to recommendation B. Sometimes the clue we need is sitting three steps to the side.

And sometimes, for reasons I cannot completely explain, I just know to look there.

Pet Parents Have This Too

I cannot tell you how many times someone has said to me, “I know the vet says everything looks okay, but he’s just not himself.”

I take that seriously, not because it automatically means there is a hidden disease, but because you live with your dog. You know how he normally walks into the kitchen, how excited she gets for dinner, where he sleeps, whether she follows you upstairs and what that face looks like on a normal day. You notice the tiny things long before they become a neat little symptom that fits on a medical form.

When a pet parent tells me something feels different, my instinct is to get curious. When did it change? What happened around the same time? Has appetite shifted? Stool? Weight? Sleep? Thirst? Mobility? Behavior? Interest in food? Recovery after exercise? Tolerance for touch?

Your intuition isn’t the diagnosis. It may simply be the reason you look closer.

Maybe This Is Why I Ended Up Here

When I look at the subjects I’ve been drawn to over the years, I sometimes have to laugh. Herbs. Essential oils. Food as part of wellness. Homeopathy. Reiki. Energy work. Animal communication. Looking for patterns rather than isolating one symptom from everything else.

Somewhere generations ago, there were apparently people in my family gathering plants and making remedies because someone needed healing.

And here I am.

I have access to education they never had, veterinary diagnostics they couldn’t have imagined and research from around the world sitting on a computer in front of me. Yet some part of what I do still feels remarkably old: observe the individual, listen carefully, pay attention to patterns, use what nature offers when appropriate, and don’t assume the most obvious answer explains the whole picture.

Maybe that is intuition. Maybe it’s inherited curiosity. Maybe it comes from years of learning and watching. Maybe abilities really do travel through family lines. And perhaps some of what we are drawn toward has an even older history than that. I don’t pretend to know exactly how any of it works. I’ve simply experienced enough in my own life that I’m no longer willing to dismiss something just because I can’t explain it.

I don’t know, and I’m comfortable leaving room for that.

I probably have a little more comfort with the unexplained than some people do. I’ve experienced past-life regression myself, and whether someone interprets those experiences spiritually, psychologically or somewhere in between, mine certainly left me more open to the possibility that who we are—and what we’re drawn to—may have roots we don’t completely understand.

Was I Called to This?

I don’t know whether healing instincts run through families, but I do think some kinds of knowing do.

Maybe what gets passed down isn’t a mysterious gift at all. Maybe it’s curiosity, observation, compassion and the willingness to stay with a problem long enough to notice what other people overlook. Maybe watching one generation care for another teaches us things long before we realize we’re learning them.

Or maybe there is something deeper that we simply don’t fully understand yet.

What I know is that I believe there is more to healing than chasing symptoms one at a time. I believe the body gives us clues. I believe animals communicate far more than most people realize, and I believe food, plants, environment, stress, emotions and relationships can all be part of the bigger picture. I also believe good veterinary medicine and good diagnostics belong in that same picture.

Those ideas don’t have to compete with one another.

If you’ve ever looked at your dog and thought, something isn’t right, don’t be too quick to talk yourself out of it. You don’t need to diagnose the problem yourself, and you definitely don’t need to buy six remedies at midnight because somebody in a Facebook group sounded very confident. Pay attention. Write down what you’re seeing. Look for patterns. Get the diagnostics that need to be done. And if the pieces still don’t add up, keep asking better questions.

Sometimes healing begins with knowing the answer. Sometimes it begins because somebody knew there was another question worth asking.

As for whether I was called to this, inherited it, stumbled into it or somehow found my way back to something my family had been doing for generations, I still don’t know.

But I’m a believer.

And sometimes I like to imagine that one of those old family healers could see what I’m doing today, look at me like the answer had been obvious all along, and say, “Well, of course you are.”

Related Content

• Reiki for Dogs

• The Basics of Muscle Testing

• Energy Healing and Animal Communication

• Working With a Holistic Canine Health Practitioner

When You Know There Is More to the Story

If your dog’s diagnosis doesn’t seem to explain the whole picture, or you keep feeling that important pieces are being looked at separately instead of together, that is where my work comes in. I look at the history, nutrition, symptoms, patterns, medications, supplements, behavior, stress and the dog in front of us—and then we decide which questions are worth asking next.

Learn more or submit an inquiry.

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There are several legitimate coaching programs. There are also people calling themselves health coaches with very little formal education. The same thing happens in plenty of other areas of the dog world. But even when someone has completed an excellent program, I don’t think the certificate tells you nearly as much as people sometimes want it to.

A certification tells me where someone studied and that they completed the requirements of that program. It does not tell me how deeply they understood the material, what they did with it afterward, whether they continued studying, whether they question what they read, or what happens when a dog sitting in front of them doesn’t fit neatly into what they were taught.

Someone who earns a canine nutrition certification doesn’t magically wake up the next morning knowing everything there is to know about canine nutrition. I didn’t. My canine nutrition credential is Cert.CN through Companion Animal Sciences Institute, a science-based program requiring roughly 200–250 hours of study and substantial written coursework. It gave me a strong foundation in canine nutrition, but I never looked at finishing the program as finishing my education. Building recipes and translating a lot of that info to raw feeding wasn’t always easy, even after completion.

My aromatherapy education includes a RACE-approved certification. So do some of the conferences I attend. I’ve also studied herbs, homeopathy, iridology, behavior, Reiki, animal communication and other areas that have become part of the way I look at dogs. Much of that education was already in place before I ever took a Pet Health Coaching course, and every new course, resource, practitioner and area of study since has simply added another layer to what I already knew.

I’m proud of my education—but I’ve never viewed completing a course as completing the education.

The Certificate Was the Starting Point

When I say I’m a learning junkie, I don’t mean I like collecting certifications. I mean I don’t know how to leave a subject alone once I become interested in it.

I didn’t study the material in those programs just to pass the test. The material was usually the launching pad for whatever came next. I would learn about something and start digging deeper. One reference led to another, one idea connected to something else I had studied, and before long I was reading papers, comparing information, making notes and building my own library around the subject. Some of those rabbit holes have been going for years.

I’m also the person who sees someone make a claim online and goes looking for the study. I want to read it. I want to know how many dogs were involved, what they actually measured, what the researchers concluded, what they didn’t conclude and whether the person sharing it has stretched the findings considerably farther than the research ever did. Sometimes the post holds up beautifully. Sometimes I learn something new and save it immediately. Sometimes I discover that a very confident social media post bears only a passing resemblance to the actual research. Either way, I keep the notes.

And boy do I keep notes. You should see my OneNote files, spreadsheets, saved PDFs and Word documents. 😂 There are files I started years ago that I still add to, research I saved because I knew I would want it again someday, and notes that lead me back to other notes because apparently one layer of documentation was not enough. It was those notes I took years ago that planted the seeds of nutrition and behavior while I was training that changed everything with one tough case.

That’s what “learning junkie” means when I say it. My nutrition education didn’t stop when I earned my Cert.CN. My aromatherapy education didn’t stop when I passed the exam. Neither did herbs, homeopathy, iridology or behavior. A good course gives me a foundation, introduces me to things I may not have considered and often gives me better questions to ask. Then I go find out more.

Troubleshooting Is How My Brain Works

I think some of that comes from a part of my background that probably doesn’t seem related to dogs at all. I have degrees in computer science and math, and I spent years working at Microsoft. I don’t talk about that very often in my dog work, but I use the thinking behind it constantly.

Computer science teaches you to troubleshoot. Something isn’t working, so you start tracing it. What changed? What happened before the problem appeared? Is the thing you’re looking at actually the problem, or is it the result of something happening farther upstream? What variable are you missing? What assumption have you made that might not be true? If the first solution doesn’t work, you don’t just do the same thing harder and hope the computer finally becomes afraid of you. You keep working the problem.

Dogs are obviously not computer programs—and biology is a hell of a lot messier—but that way of thinking has followed me into everything I do. I want to understand why. I want to know what happened before something changed, what has already been tried, what helped temporarily or not at all, what made things worse and what nobody has looked at yet. I want to know whether two things being treated as completely separate problems may actually be connected.

Sometimes the answer is nutrition. Sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes something that looks behavioral makes me wonder about what is happening physically. Sometimes something in a dog’s history makes me think differently about the nervous system, digestion, inflammation, environment or stress. Sometimes my education in herbs, homeopathy, essential oils or iridology gives me another place to look.

That’s the value, for me, of having studied across disciplines. It doesn’t mean I think I know everything about all of them. It means I have more places to look, more questions to ask and more ways to recognize that something else may be going on.

Knowing More Also Means Knowing When to Refer

I can already hear the “jack of all trades, master of none” argument, and that isn’t what I’m saying.

There are people who have spent their entire professional lives specializing in one of these areas and know far more about that particular discipline than I do. I refer out. I ask other professionals what they think. I want another nutrition professional’s eyes on something sometimes. I want a veterinarian investigating something when the dog needs veterinary diagnostics. I have practitioners and experts I learn from, collaborate with and bring into the conversation when their depth of knowledge is what the dog needs.

To me, that’s part of being good at this—not evidence that I’m not qualified. I have enough insight into several disciplines to recognize when there may be another avenue worth exploring, and enough sense to know when somebody else should take that piece farther than I can. I don’t need to be the person with every answer.

The team matters.

The goal isn’t for me to prove that I can solve everything myself—the goal is to help the dog, and sometimes the best thing I can bring to the table is knowing who else needs a chair.

I learned that education doesn’t require agreement a long time ago, too. My original dog training and behavior education taught me plenty about training, but it also taught me a lot about the kind of trainer I did not want to become. My instructor was much heavier-handed with the leash and in his training style than I ultimately wanted to be. I learned what he taught, went out and worked with dogs, continued studying and watching and thinking, and eventually figured out what I wanted to keep, what I wanted to change and what I was willing to leave behind. I made it my own.

I’ve done that with everything I’ve studied since. I don’t think taking someone’s course requires me to adopt every belief that person has for the rest of my life. What would be the point of having a brain if that were how education worked? I can learn something valuable from someone and disagree with something else they teach. I can use an approach for years and then change it because I have better information. I can read new research that forces me to reconsider something I was pretty damn sure about before I read it.

That isn’t a threat to my education—it’s the whole reason I keep educating myself.

In fact, I hope I don’t believe exactly the same things five years from now that I believe today. I hope I know more. I hope I’ve changed my mind about a few things because better information became available. I hope somebody who knows more than I do teaches me something that changes the way I work. I hope I keep finding ideas worth investigating and keep enough critical thinking intact not to fall for every exciting thing somebody posts on the internet.

That combination matters to me—curiosity and critical thinking. Curiosity without critical thinking can send you into some pretty ridiculous places. Critical thinking without curiosity can leave you doing something for twenty years simply because that was the way you learned it twenty years ago. I want both. I want to be willing to ask, “What else could be going on here?” and then be willing to do the work to find out whether the idea has any merit.

What I Really Look for in a Practitioner

So when I think about what makes someone qualified, credentials absolutely matter to me. The quality of the education matters. Experience matters. Continuing education matters. But I also want to know how the person thinks and what they’ve done since the certificate arrived.

When they don’t know something, do they go find out? When someone makes an interesting claim, do they repeat it or validate it? Can they troubleshoot instead of reaching for the same answer every time? Can they recognize when something doesn’t fit? Can they change their mind? Can they say, “I don’t know”? And when they reach the edge of what they know, have they built a network of people who can help take the next step?

Those things tell me far more than a title by itself ever could.

When I look at all the things I’ve studied over the years, I don’t see a pile of certifications that somehow prove I know everything. I see more ways to look at a dog, more questions I know to ask, more connections I might recognize and more places to look when the obvious answer isn’t getting us anywhere. I see more tools in my tool box. I see years of notes, research, cases, conversations, mistakes, things that worked, things that didn’t and things I’m still trying to understand better.

And maybe this is where I land after all of it: at the end of the day, the certificate itself is not what we put into practice.

The knowledge matters—however you acquired it, as long as you did the work to actually understand it. Results matter. Determination matters. Critical thinking matters. Creativity matters. The willingness to keep digging when the obvious answer isn’t working matters. And teamwork matters, because nobody knows everything and the dog is better served when good professionals are willing to put their heads together instead of protecting their titles.

A certification can tell you where someone’s formal education started. It can’t tell you how much work they put in afterward, how much they continued learning, how they think through a difficult problem or what they’re willing to do when the first answer doesn’t work.

For me, the certificate has never been the finish line. It usually just gives me a new rabbit hole to go down—and hopefully another tool I can actually use when a dog needs it.

Dana Brigman, Cert.CN :-)

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You may have no idea who I am, what The Well Oiled K9 is, or why I keep talking about a membership.

So let me start there.

The Well Oiled K9 Membership Is Not a Paid Newsletter

Substack is simply one way I communicate.

The Well Oiled K9 Membership is a much larger education, resource and support program for dog parents who want to understand their dogs better, make more informed decisions and have a reliable place to turn when the next question comes up.

And with dogs, there is always a next question.

Who Am I — And Why Am I Teaching This?

I’m Dana Brigman, a Certified Holistic Pet Health Coach and canine nutritionist (Cert.CN), and I’ve spent more than a decade working professionally with dogs and their people.

My work actually started heavily on the behavior and training side, but over the years it became impossible for me to separate behavior from what was happening physically in the dog.

Food matters. Digestion matters. Pain matters. Hormones, stress, sleep, the nervous system and environment matter.

What we put in, on and around our dogs matters too.

That led me deeper into canine nutrition, fresh feeding, aromatherapy, herbs, homeopathy, Reiki and other complementary approaches to canine wellness.

Today, I look at the whole dog.

Your dog.

That may mean improving the food bowl, supporting an aging dog, understanding allergies or digestive problems, learning how to use natural remedies more confidently, navigating a chronic health diagnosis or recognizing that an anxious or reactive dog may have more going on than a training problem.

I don’t believe every dog needs a complicated protocol and twelve supplements.

I also don’t believe every question should end with, “Ask your vet,” with no further education or explanation.

Veterinary care matters.

So does understanding your own dog well enough to notice changes, ask better questions and make thoughtful decisions.

That middle ground is where much of my work lives.

Why I Built The Membership

I kept watching dog parents get good information, use it successfully…and then end up right back at square one when the next issue came along.

The dog stopped eating.

Diarrhea showed up.

An allergy flare started.

The senior dog suddenly seemed different.

A new supplement was recommended.

A lab value changed.

Someone wanted to improve the diet or learn how to use essential oils, herbs or homeopathy.

And back to Google or Facebook they went.

Google can give you 4,000 answers, three sponsored products and six new reasons to panic before breakfast.

Facebook can be even worse.

Ask one dog question in a large group and by lunchtime someone has told you to change the food, never change the food, give pumpkin, never give pumpkin, fire your veterinarian, buy seven supplements…and occasionally what a terrible dog mom you are for not already knowing all of this. 😂

I wanted to build something more useful than that.

A place where you can learn.

A place where you can come back when something changes.

A place where the information builds on itself instead of starting over every single time.

And a community of dog moms who are trying to do many of the same things you are:

Help their dogs eat better, feel better and live longer.

What Do We Talk About?

A lot.

Because dogs rarely present us with one neat little problem living in its own box.

Inside the membership you’ll find education and resources around:

Nutrition & Fresh Food — improving the bowl, homemade and fresh feeding, ingredients, protein rotation, fats, hydration and feeding through different stages of life.

Natural Remedies — essential oils, herbs, homeopathy, botanicals and understanding when different types of support may make sense.

Digestive Health — diarrhea, reflux, nausea, appetite problems, food sensitivities, elimination diets and recurring GI problems.

Chronic Health Concerns — education and supportive strategies around conditions involving the kidneys, liver, pancreas, thyroid, heart, skin, immune system and more.

Senior Dogs & Longevity — mobility, cognition, nutrition, prevention and keeping older dogs comfortable, engaged and participating in life.

Behavior & The Whole Dog — anxiety, fear, reactivity, stress, nervous-system health and the physical pieces that can influence behavior.

Seasonal Wellness — parasites, environmental exposures, lymphatic support, seasonal detoxification, immune support and proactive care throughout the year.

First Aid & Everyday Questions — including learning what belongs in the watch it, support it, schedule an appointment or get to the vet now category.

The goal isn’t for you to memorize protocols.

The goal is for you to become much better at understanding your own dog.

So What Do Members Actually Get?

This is where the membership is very different from simply subscribing to a newsletter.

Your Private Member Resource Library

The member area at WellOiledK9.com is the heart of the membership.

This is where you’ll find the material that deserves more than a Facebook post:

Guides. Protocols. Classes. Educational articles. Seasonal resources. Troubleshooting information.

It is designed to become the place you check first when something comes up with your dog.

And yes, there’s a lot in there.

You don’t have to learn it all at once.

Part of my job is helping you figure out which information actually applies to the dog standing in front of you.

Live Member Classes & Sessions

Rather than holding meetings just for the sake of having another meeting on everybody’s calendar, I’m using our live time to actually teach.

Classes and live sessions focus on subjects members repeatedly need help understanding: nutrition, homemade food, allergies, natural remedies, senior dogs, chronic conditions, seasonal wellness and other practical topics.

When a live session is held, it is recorded and made available to members so you don’t have to rearrange your life every time I turn on Zoom.

Guides & Protocols

Members have access to an expanding collection of practical guides and protocols that you can return to again and again.

I don’t want you digging through six months of Facebook comments trying to remember what I once said about lymphatics, elimination diets or senior support.

Important information needs a permanent home.

That’s what the resource library is for.

The Remedies Class

My Remedies Class teaches you how I think about essential oils, herbs, homeopathy, natural first aid and building a useful home wellness toolkit.

The Homemade Food Class

The Homemade Food Class teaches you how to think about fresh feeding and balanced homemade food instead of handing you one recipe and pretending your dog should eat it forever.

Annual members receive both complete classes as part of their membership.

Private Member Conversation & Questions

Members also have private places to ask general questions and participate in conversation with me and other members.

You can use the paid-member Facebook group if Facebook is where you’re most comfortable.

If Facebook makes you want to throw your phone into the ocean — I understand 😂 — you can use the private Well Oiled K9 community instead.

The important distinction is that these are member spaces.

My public Holistic Dogs group and public social-media pages are educational spaces for a much larger audience. They are not where I provide individualized dosing, protocols or ongoing guidance.

Membership gives us an actual relationship and a much more appropriate place for those conversations.

What Membership Is NOT

This part matters.

The membership provides education, resources, community and group-level support.

It is not unlimited private consulting.

It does not replace an individualized consultation when your dog needs custom diet formulation, extensive history review, detailed lab interpretation, individualized protocols or ongoing case management.

And it is certainly not emergency veterinary care.

Sometimes your question will have a very straightforward answer.

Sometimes I’ll point you directly to a guide, class or protocol.

Sometimes we’ll talk through it in the member community.

And sometimes I am going to tell you:

“This needs more than a membership answer.”

That’s not me brushing you off.

That’s me recognizing that your dog deserves more than an educated guess based on three sentences in a Facebook comment.

Private consultations are available when that deeper level of support is needed, and members receive preferred pricing on eligible services.

You Don’t Have To Be “Super Holistic”

You do not need to arrive feeding a perfectly balanced raw diet from a stainless-steel bowl while diffusing Frankincense and growing medicinal herbs in the backyard. 😂

Some members have been immersed in holistic wellness for years.

Some are just beginning.

Some feed raw or gently cooked food.

Some are trying to improve the kibble bowl they feed today.

Some use herbs, essential oils and homeopathy regularly.

Others are trying to figure out what the heck all three even are.

Some are managing significant chronic health issues.

Others have healthy dogs and want to keep them that way.

There is no purity test at the door.

My approach is food-first, whole-dog and lower-tox.

I like fresh food.

I use essential oils, herbs, homeopathy and other complementary modalities.

I think prevention deserves far more attention than it normally receives.

But I also live in the real world.

You start where you are.

Then we learn what makes sense to do next.

So Where Does Substack Fit Now?

Substack is one of my communication channels.

You’ll still find public articles and occasional member communication here, and you can follow along if this is the platform you enjoy using.

But you do not need Substack to be a Well Oiled K9 member.

Membership now lives directly through WellOiledK9.com.

That’s intentional.

Your membership shouldn’t disappear into a social-media feed.

Your classes, guides, protocols and important resources need a permanent home where you can actually find them again.

The website is that home.

The private communities give us the conversation.

Our live sessions give us the opportunity to go deeper.

And Substack gives me another way to reach people who want to read what I’m teaching.

They all serve different purposes.

Why Join?

Because chances are you’re already spending money on your dog.

Food.

Supplements.

Veterinary visits.

Products somebody recommended online.

Things you tried because they sounded promising.

Maybe even an impressive collection of half-used bottles sitting in a cabinet because somebody on Facebook said, “You NEED this.”

Sometimes the most valuable thing you can have isn’t another product.

It’s better information before you buy the next one.

The membership is designed to help you understand what matters first, recognize foundation problems, ask better questions, understand your options and make more intentional decisions.

Most importantly, you stop starting from scratch every single time something changes.

My goal isn’t to make you dependent on me.

It’s to help you become extremely good at knowing your own dog — while giving you reliable education, resources and guidance to come back to when you need them.

Membership

Monthly Membership — $29/month

Annual Membership — $299/year

Annual membership also includes my complete Homemade Food Class and Remedies Class.

If You Just Found Me Today

You don’t need to join because one article happened to land in your feed.

Read some of my work.

See how I think.

See whether my approach to dogs makes sense to you.

But if you’re already the dog parent who keeps thinking:

There has to be more I can do.

I want to understand this better.

I want to be proactive instead of waiting for something to go wrong.

Or maybe simply:

I want this dog here and healthy for as long as I can possibly have her.

Then you’re exactly who I built this membership for.

Eat Better. Feel Better. Live Longer.

Welcome to The Well Oiled K9.

Dana

I had a bad feeling about the whole thing the day before, but I tried to keep an open mind. I wanted help. No, I needed help. More specifically, I wanted someone who could help me safely return to exercise after a health crisis that nearly took me out and wrecked my nervous system and my stamina.

When the appointment began, the trainer asked whether I had a pen while holding one up to the camera. Then he asked whether I had paper while displaying a sheet of it for me.

For a moment, I wondered whether I had accidentally enrolled in kindergarten.

He told me to write down three words: fitness, nutrition, and accountability. Then he asked about my primary goal.

I explained that I wanted to rebuild my strength and endurance. I want to be able to travel and trust that I can walk wherever I need to go. I want to know I could walk to the grocery store and back if necessary. More importantly, I want to feel confident that if I were ever stranded or one of my dogs needed help, I would have enough physical strength and stamina to handle the situation.

My goal was not a particular number on the scale or a body that resembled one of the photos used in a fitness advertisement. I wanted to feel capable again. I wanted to rebuild trust in my body after a frightening health experience.

I told him about the health issue, but he glossed over it and moved on.

Next, he asked about my weight, even though I had already provided it on the intake form. Then he showed me a series of body photos and asked which one looked most like me.

That was when I stopped him.

“I don’t care about the number or the photo. They will shift naturally.” I said. “I care about how I feel. I need help getting started with fitness again and overcoming my fears.” “If the scale and weekly photo are your measurements (no pun intended) for success — I can tell you this isn’t for me, right now. It’s not my priority.”

That should have been useful information. It should have shifted the direction of the conversation because I had just clearly explained what I needed, why I needed it, and what I was hoping he could help me accomplish.

Instead, he moved directly into questions about what I eat, whether I binge at night, and how some of “his ladies” struggle with food and eat emotionally. For the record, referring to grown women as “your ladies” while questioning them about their eating habits is gross.

Then came the macros. How much protein was I eating? How many carbohydrates? How much fat? What would I track, and how would I measure it?

I told him that counting macros was not a good starting point for me.

That did not mean I believed nutrition was unimportant. I talk about food first constantly in my own work. I understand that food influences energy, inflammation, healing, muscle development, hormones, metabolism, and long-term health. I understand the role nutrition plays in fitness and recovery.

But I also know myself, and I knew what I could realistically manage.

I explained that I did not have the emotional capacity to overhaul several major areas of my life at the same time. I had already been working on my food. What I needed from him was guidance, supervision, and partnership as I returned to exercise. Once I rebuilt some strength and confidence in movement, I could take a closer look at the next area.

Instead of hearing that, he launched into an explanation that began with, “In my XYZ Program, we address fitness, nutrition, and accountability together…”

And there it was: the program.

The conversation was no longer about my health history, my goals, or the reality of what I could take on after a serious health crisis. It was about why I needed to fit inside the structure he had already created.

I stopped him again and asked, “What did you hear me say were my priorities and goals?”

He acknowledged that my priority was fitness, but immediately returned to explaining why I could not achieve it without participating in the entire program exactly as designed. Apparently, I could not even begin rebuilding my strength unless I was also willing to count macros from day one. It sounded like an all or nothing approach.

There was no room to start with supervised exercise, regain some confidence in my body, and address nutrition more deeply when I had greater emotional capacity. His program came first, and I came second.

When I did not fit neatly into the box he had built, he called me uncoachable.

I found that fascinating because I had not refused to work. I had not said nutrition was irrelevant, and I had not rejected the idea of making changes. I had simply communicated what I needed and where I was capable of starting. I knew being in the kitchen counting macros was not a starting point for me.

That is not being uncoachable. That is being honest about your capacity.

A Good Program Is Not Automatically the Right Program

There is nothing inherently wrong with tracking macros. Some people love numbers. They feel empowered by setting measurable targets, tracking their meals, and watching their progress through data.

Other people become overwhelmed before they even begin.

Some people are ready to change their food, exercise, sleep, supplements, schedule, and routines all at once. Others are recovering from illness, grief, burnout, financial pressure, caregiving, or years of feeling physically and emotionally depleted. They may have the capacity to make one meaningful change right now.

That is not laziness or resistance. It is information a good coach should know how to use.

There is an enormous difference between someone who refuses to participate and someone who clearly explains what they need in order to succeed. A coach who cannot recognize that difference is not customizing a plan. They are qualifying people for a program.

Sometimes the technically ideal plan is not the plan a person can realistically follow today. It may look brilliant in a presentation, but if it is too overwhelming, expensive, rigid, or disconnected from the person’s immediate needs, it will fail in real life.

Customization is not merely changing a calorie target, replacing one exercise, or swapping one food for another. It means understanding where someone is starting, what is currently blocking progress, and which first step gives them the best chance of continuing.

Dog Moms Keep Telling Me They Are Overwhelmed

This experience made me think about my own work as a Holistic Canine Health Practitioner because I hear one word from dog moms all the time: overwhelmed.

They are overwhelmed by conflicting advice, supplement lists, test results, food recommendations, medication decisions, vet appointments, social media opinions, financial pressure, and the persistent fear that they still are not doing enough for their dogs.

I also have to own that I have probably contributed to that feeling at times.

When I assess a dog, I may see several interconnected areas that need attention. I may see problems with the food, digestion, inflammation, nutrient absorption, mobility, medication side effects, stress, the home environment, or the way one health issue is feeding another.

Because I see those connections, I naturally want to explain them. I want the dog mom to understand why the symptoms keep returning and why the usual advice may not be solving the deeper problem.

But while I may see the whole puzzle, the dog mom sitting across from me may hear a long and expensive list of everything she is somehow supposed to fix by Monday.

I am trying to be more mindful of that because identifying every possible weakness is not the same as creating a useful starting point.

My role is not simply to point out everything that could be better. My role is to help determine what needs attention first, what the dog can tolerate, what the dog mom can realistically manage, and what fits within the budget available.

Sometimes that means we cannot begin with the most complete or sophisticated version of the plan. We begin with the step most likely to create an easy win.

Maybe the first win is getting the dog to eat breakfast willingly. Maybe it is firming up the stool, reducing nighttime restlessness, helping the dog rise more comfortably, or making one fresh-food improvement without turning the kitchen into a canine nutrition laboratory.

An early win creates confidence. Confidence improves consistency, and consistency gives us the capacity to address the next piece of the puzzle.

Sometimes Food Is the Right First Step

Sometimes the most useful first change really is food. For dogs, that transition can even be relatively easy because most dogs are delighted when tasty fresh food appears in place of dry brown pellets. The dog is not worried about learning a new system, reading labels, or logging meals in an app. The dog usually thinks this is the best idea anyone has had all week.

The dog mom may feel very differently.

She may already be managing medications, cleaning diarrhea from the carpet, losing sleep, driving to appointments, working full time, caring for other family members, and trying to understand why her dog still does not feel well.

Handing her a food scale, nutrient spreadsheets, detailed recipes, multiple new supplements, and a target for every gram of protein and fat may not be the best place to begin.

She probably is not going to count macros, and in many cases, she does not need to.

She may need one manageable improvement to the food she is already feeding. She may need help choosing a better fresh or gently cooked option. She may need to replace one meal, add useful moisture and protein, remove one obvious problem, or simplify a complicated routine that is not working.

We can build from there.

Meeting someone where she is does not mean lowering the standard of care or pretending the other issues do not exist. It means creating a plan that can actually be implemented instead of presenting an idealized plan that collapses under the weight of real life.

The Dog Who Just Wants to Walk With Mom Again

Consider a dog with a painful or unstable knee. Maybe she used to walk every morning with her mom, jump into the car for errands, or wander through the neighborhood sniffing every mailbox as if it contained breaking news. Now she hesitates at the door, struggles to rise, or turns back after a few minutes.

Of course food belongs in the conversation. A fresh, anti-inflammatory diet may help reduce inflammatory pressure, support tissue repair, improve body composition, and provide the nutrients needed to maintain muscle. If the dog is carrying excess weight, nutrition will also be part of protecting that joint over time.

But the dog mom may not have called me because she wants a lesson on food percentages. She may have called because her dog can no longer walk with her.

That changes where we begin.

Before asking this dog to lose weight, rebuild muscle, or tolerate longer walks, we may need to address the pain that is preventing movement in the first place. She may need an evaluation from a rehabilitation veterinarian or qualified canine rehabilitation professional to assess the knee, gait changes, compensation patterns, weakness, and muscle loss. Support such as appropriate pain relief, PEMF, cold laser, massage, CBD, essential oils, improved traction, and carefully guided exercises may help her become comfortable enough to move again.

A dog who hurts every time she stands is not going to rebuild strength simply because we improved her dinner.

The food work still matters, and it may become one of the most important parts of the long-term plan. But first, we may need to help the dog stand more comfortably, take a few stronger steps, and begin using her body again without fear. But for now, maybe we take one thing out or add in one fresh new thing.

Then perhaps she makes it to the end of the driveway. Later, she reaches the corner. Eventually, she may be able to enjoy part of that morning walk with Mom again.

Those are not small wins. They are the reason for the plan.

Once movement is more comfortable and the household has a manageable routine, we can continue improving the food, address body condition, support muscle development, and build a longer-term strategy for inflammation and joint health.

That is not ignoring nutrition. It is understanding that the best plan may still fail when it begins with the wrong obstacle.

The Best Starting Point Is the Barrier Blocking Progress

Dog parents are often handed a list that includes changing the food, eliminating treats, adding supplements, starting exercises, buying equipment, scheduling tests, changing household products, tracking symptoms, learning massage, managing weight, and reducing stress.

Every recommendation on the list may have value, but together they can become paralyzing.

Overwhelm does not create consistency. It usually creates avoidance, guilt, and a cabinet full of unopened supplements.

Some dog moms are ready to prepare a completely fresh diet, track symptoms, rotate proteins, learn acupressure, and make several changes at once. Others are exhausted, frightened, and barely holding their household together. They may be able to change one meal, add one supportive product, or schedule one rehabilitation appointment.

That is where we start.

My job is not to make someone prove her commitment by giving her an impossible list and seeing whether she follows it. My job is to identify the biggest obstacle, the most urgent concern, the most realistic next step, and the change most likely to create meaningful improvement.

When a dog sleeps better, walks a little farther, scratches less, has a formed stool, or rises with less hesitation, the dog mom begins to believe progress is possible. That success gives her the energy and confidence to take the next step.

The Dog Mom Is Part of the Wellness Plan

A dog’s wellness plan does not exist in a laboratory. It has to work inside a real home with a real dog mom, a real schedule, and a real budget.

She may work long hours, care for several animals, manage her own health problems, or be responsible for a spouse, child, or aging parent. She may have financial limitations, physical restrictions, decision fatigue, or fear left over from a previous medical crisis.

A plan that ignores the person caring for the dog is not truly customized to the dog.

That does not mean I tell people only what they want to hear. Sometimes the most important recommendation is not the easiest one. There are situations when the food must change quickly, veterinary care cannot wait, or the current approach is clearly making the problem worse. I will say so.

There is still a difference between being direct and being rigid. There is also a difference between giving someone a roadmap and demanding that she travel the entire road on the first day.

A useful plan shows the dog mom where we are going while helping her understand which step comes next.

Controlled Is Not Always Stable

We also need to consider the dog’s capacity, not only the person’s.

A dog may be technically cleared for activity but still be weak, guarded, painful, or afraid to move. The diarrhea may have stopped, while the gut remains fragile. The itching may be controlled with medication, even though the underlying inflammatory pattern is still present.

A dog may eat prescription food and avoid obvious triggers while remaining nutritionally depleted, digestively vulnerable, and prone to repeated flares.

Controlled is not always the same as stable, and stable is not necessarily the same as ready for every intervention.

Sometimes the body needs support before it is challenged. We may need to stabilize first, rebuild second, and expand later.

Changing too many things at the same time can also make it impossible to tell what helped, what caused a reaction, or what the dog can tolerate. A flare is information, but so are fatigue, hesitation, resistance, and overwhelm.

Good coaching pays attention to all of them.

Customization Still Requires a Plan

A customized approach does not mean throwing every natural remedy at a dog and hoping something sticks. That is not customization. That is expensive chaos.

A thoughtful plan still needs priorities and structure. Depending on the dog, it may involve veterinary diagnostics, medication review, pain management, rehabilitation, fresh food, digestive support, herbs, essential oils, homeopathy, CBD, medicinal mushrooms, bodywork, nervous system support, environmental changes, or a TCVM-informed assessment.

Not every dog needs every category, and not every category needs to begin today.

The order matters. The dog’s symptoms matter. The dog mom’s capacity matters. The budget matters. The response to each change matters.

A customized plan is often built in phases. It leaves room to observe, adjust, and make better decisions as the dog’s response gives us new information.

Coaching Should Feel Like a Partnership

The fitness trainer kept trying to convince me that his system was correct. He never stopped to consider whether it was the right starting point for me at that moment.

That is the difference.

I did not need someone to explain that nutrition affects fitness. I needed someone to hear that I was recovering from a serious health issue with emotional baggage and wanted support as I safely reintroduced exercise.

I was not saying I would never make another change to my diet. I was asking to start in a place where I could succeed.

Dog moms deserve that same consideration. They deserve someone who looks at the diagnosis but also looks beyond it—someone who asks what is most urgent, what is most fragile, what has already been tried, what the household can afford, what the dog mom can realistically sustain, and which first change is most likely to help.

Sometimes we begin with the bowl. Sometimes we begin with pain relief, digestion, sleep, mobility, hydration, stress, or simply getting the dog comfortable enough to eat.

The best plan is not the one with the most steps, the strictest rules, or the most impressive flow-chart. It is the plan that understands the dog, respects the person caring for them, and begins in the right place.

From stress, discomfort, and digestive upset to skin concerns, immune support, recovery, and senior wellness, essential oils are often among the first tools I reach for.

Have you considered adding them to your dog’s wellness toolbox?

In this video, Dr. Barb Fox and I talk about why so many dog moms are nervous about using essential oils—and how the right education and support can help you move past that fear and use this powerful modality with confidence.

Jump to about the 6-minute mark to dive right into that conversation:
WATCH THE VIDEO

Thinking about getting started with essential oils? Contact Me. My self-paced oils class is available in the membership program or stand-alone!

In this episode of Dogsplainin, I talk with Angela Ardolino, founder of CBD Dog Health and MycoDog, about natural wellness for dogs—and why the quality of the products we give them matters.

We discuss:

• How full-spectrum CBD supports the endocannabinoid system
• Functional mushrooms and adaptogens for canine health
• Natural support for inflammation, discomfort, stress, immunity, and aging
• Why synthetic ingredients may be problematic for some dogs
• What pet parents should look for when choosing supplements
• Supporting senior dogs before they begin noticeably declining
• Practical ways to promote comfort, vitality, and longevity

Healthy aging does not begin when your dog suddenly becomes “old.” The choices you make throughout your dog’s life—from food and supplements to stress support and daily movement—can influence how well those later years are lived.

This conversation will help pet parents better understand CBD, functional mushrooms, natural products, and the importance of choosing clean, thoughtfully formulated support for their dogs.

Subscribe to Dogsplainin for practical conversations about canine nutrition, natural wellness, essential oils, senior dog care, and helping dogs eat better, feel better, and live longer.

Learn more about holistic support for your dog at welloiledk9.com.
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CBD for dogs | medicinal mushrooms for dogs | senior dog health | dog longevity | natural dog supplements | holistic dog care | Angela Ardolino | CBD Dog Health | MycoDog | healthy aging for dogs

I’m hosting a live, interactive Zoom discussion to cover some of the issues I keep seeing come up again and again in Facebook groups.

We’ll talk about topics such as:

• How to properly balance a homemade diet

• Feeding dogs with pancreatitis

• Why “low fat” does not automatically mean healthy

• Why I do not love gabapentin as the default answer

• Taking a food-first approach

• Allergies, itching, yeast, and digestive issues

• How to stop wasting money on unnecessary supplements

• Ways better daily choices may help reduce avoidable vet visits

• Common advice circulating online that may be incomplete, misleading, or simply wrong

This is not a one-on-one consulting session, but I will answer questions and work through as many topics as possible with the group.

The discussion begins at 6:00 PM ET and will continue until 8:00 PM ET or until the question queue is empty, whichever comes first.

This will be held on Zoom only so we can actually talk, ask follow-up questions, and have an interactive discussion rather than trying to communicate through a Facebook comment thread.

Bring your questions, your notebook, and your willingness to rethink some of the advice that gets repeated online without enough explanation.

https://zoom.us/my/danabrig?pwd=qB7eaclzHRmKk1MixptB03VFsE9iTa.1&omn=93726261961

Subscribe now

Huey came to me when he was about six months old, so I had the privilege of knowing almost his entire story.

Both lived beyond 20 years old.

It is important to say that both Howie and Huey came to me long before I knew much about fresh feeding, natural health support, reducing chemical exposure or making more intentional decisions around vaccines. I did not start out doing everything I would recommend today. I learned as I went, and as I learned, I made changes.

I changed their food. I changed their vaccine schedules. I eliminated products from our home and yard that I no longer wanted around them. They ate raw diets for many years, and then, in their final years, I shifted them to gently cooked food as their bodies and digestive needs changed.

There wasn’t one magic supplement, one perfect food or one protocol responsible for their longevity. Their health was built over time through many different choices, including choices I changed as I learned better.

Neither dog was ever what I would call chronically unhealthy. I truly believe that when they died, it was simply their time after more than 20 years of life. That doesn’t make watching them grow old easy. The slowing down is one of the hardest parts. You begin measuring walks differently. You notice that it takes a little longer to cross the yard, get comfortable in a bed or make it to the door.

The body changes even when the spirit and appetite remain very much intact.

And both of those dachshunds still loved to eat.

They remained mobile around the house and yard throughout their senior and geriatric years, and they still loved golf cart rides or their stroller when longer walks were no longer practical. Their world became smaller and slower, but it did not stop being enjoyable.

I will always miss them, but more than anything, I remain incredibly grateful for the number of healthy years we had together.

Those years shaped the way I think about proactive health today.

We tell pet parents to get ahead of problems. Feed better before disease develops. Support the joints before arthritis makes every step uncomfortable. Think about brain health before cognitive decline. Protect kidney and liver function before the bloodwork changes. Reduce inflammation and chemical exposure before the body becomes overwhelmed.

Then we also say, “Don’t treat a problem your dog doesn’t have.”

That sounds contradictory until we separate supporting the body from treating an active disease.

I think of it like preparing your home for a storm. You maintain the roof, trim the branches hanging over the house and keep flashlights, batteries and supplies nearby. You prepare because you understand that storms happen. You do not, however, replace every window because one might eventually break. If a window does break, you stop preparing for a possibility and repair the actual damage.

Proactive health works much the same way. Maintenance. We support the body before there is a problem, but when a problem develops, we change the plan and treat what is actually happening.

Helping the body do its own work

I don’t wake up each morning wondering which disease I should try to prevent that day. I think about what I can do to help my dogs’ bodies continue doing what they were designed to do.

The immune system is already monitoring for viruses, bacteria, parasites, damaged tissue and abnormal cells. The liver is processing substances and preparing waste for removal. The kidneys are filtering the blood, regulating fluid balance and helping maintain mineral and electrolyte balance. The lymphatic system is moving waste and supporting immune function. The microbiome is involved in digestion, nutrient production, immune communication and even brain and behavior health.

The body also has an endocannabinoid system, a regulatory network involved in maintaining balance across the nervous system, immune system, gut, skin, appetite, discomfort and inflammatory responses. This is one reason CBD became part of my senior dogs’ care. I wasn’t using it to sedate them or cover up every sign of aging. I used it because CBD may support comfort, mobility, a balanced inflammatory response, appetite, calmer nervous-system signaling and the body’s efforts to maintain homeostasis. Read more about CBD for dogs.

My role is not to replace these systems or force them to work in a particular direction every day. My role is to provide good raw materials, support normal function and remove as many unnecessary obstacles as I reasonably can.

Food is a large part of that, but it is not the only part. I also pay attention to what enters the home through the laundry room, what is sprayed in the yard and what ends up on the floors, bedding, paws and skin.

Over the years, I have worked to reduce unnecessary exposure to lawn chemicals, weed killers, synthetic fertilizers, pest-control products, heavily fragranced cleaners, plug-ins, air fresheners, scented detergents, fabric softeners and dryer products. I also changed how I approached flea and tick products and vaccines as I learned more and became more comfortable making individualized decisions.

We cannot eliminate every exposure. Our dogs still walk through treated grass, breathe outdoor air, drink water and share a world that is far from toxin-free. However, reducing what we can control lowers the amount the body must continually process.

Harvey taught me just how important that is.

His heavy-metal numbers were off the charts. My first thought was to focus on detoxification, but then I had our water tested and discovered we had a problem. No matter how much I tried to help his body eliminate heavy metals, I was continuing to put more back into him—and into all of us—through the water we used every day.

That changed my thinking permanently. Detoxification is not just about adding herbs, binders or supplements. Sometimes the most important part of a detox protocol is identifying what needs to stop coming in. Otherwise, we are mopping the floor while the sink is still overflowing.

The difference between support and treatment

Howie gave me a very clear example of this distinction.

At one point, he was diagnosed with early signs of kidney disease. That was no longer a general wellness concern. We had an actual problem beginning to show itself, so I changed the plan.

I made more significant changes to his food ingredients, became much more intentional about what his kidneys were being asked to process and completed a focused cleanse.

After that, the issue was never brought up again. His veterinarians did not continue discussing kidney disease, and we never had another known problem with it.

That does not mean I ignored his kidneys afterward. It meant we moved from treatment back into support.

The problem had appeared, so I responded more directly. Once his body was back in a better place, I continued making choices that supported kidney function without treating him as though he were in active kidney failure for the rest of his life.

That is exactly the difference I want pet parents to understand.

Support can be gentle, seasonal and ongoing. Treatment is more targeted because something specific has changed.

Adding support as the years pass

I did not care for Howie and Huey at 18 the same way I cared for them at 8. Their foundation remained the same, but as they became seniors and then truly geriatric dogs, I added more support around the systems likely to work harder with age.

• Clarity functional mushrooms became part of their care because I wanted to support their brains as they aged. Howie did eventually show some signs of cognitive decline, but he was already 20 years old by then. To me, that matters. I was not expecting supplements to stop aging or make an elderly dog behave like a young one. I was trying to support brain function, awareness, routine, sleep and quality of life for as long as possible. I believe we slowed the onset of CCD naturally.

• Vitality mushrooms were used because I wanted exactly what the name suggests: vitality, resilience, energy and continued engagement with life.
  Read more about functional mushrooms for dogs.

• CBD supported multiple needs at once, including comfort, mobility, appetite, nervous-system balance and a healthier inflammatory response.

• PEMF helped support circulation, tissue recovery, comfort and movement. Keeping an older dog mobile affects much more than the joints. It helps preserve muscle, independence, digestion, confidence and quality of life. Read more about PEMF for dogs.

• Raindrop Technique was also a very important part of how I supported my senior dogs.

• For seniors, I generally begin with a three-day Raindrop protocol. From there, I usually move to weekly sessions and then maintain at least monthly support. Some dogs need it more often, and I adjust the frequency based on age, mobility, stress, discomfort, neurological needs and how the dog responds.

• Raindrop is not something I save only for a crisis. I use it proactively to support the nervous system, muscles, joints, circulation, immune function and the body’s overall ability to recover from the wear and tear of aging.

• The essential oils used during a Raindrop session are selected with purpose. Sometimes the focus is mobility and musculoskeletal support. Sometimes the immune system needs more attention. Sometimes the nervous system needs help settling so the body can move out of a constant stress response and devote more energy to digestion, sleep and repair.

I do not use oils simply because they smell nice or because every senior dog needs the same recipe. The choices and frequency are adjusted according to the dog standing in front of me.

Fresh, anti-inflammatory food remained the foundation. Howie and Huey ate raw food for many years, and as they became very old, I shifted them to gently cooked meals because that was a better fit for their changing needs. I continued offering variety to provide a broader range of nutrients, keep meals interesting and help them continue eating well as they aged.

Milk thistle and seasonal liver support also became part of the rotation because a liver that has processed nearly two decades of food, medications, chemicals and ordinary environmental exposure has earned some backup.

None of these things were added because Howie and Huey had every disease the products or therapies might be capable of supporting. They were added because aging changes what the body needs.

They did not receive every supplement every day for the rest of their lives. Some tools were used daily for a period. Others were seasonal, rotated or brought in when I noticed a change. Proactive care does not mean turning every meal into a mountain of powders, tinctures and capsules. It means watching the dog in front of you and adjusting the support as that dog’s age, environment and needs change.

Poppy’s seasonal rhythm

Poppy is now eleven and a half, and she currently has no known health issues. I am enormously grateful for that, but her good health is not a reason for me to stop supporting her body until something goes wrong.

We began seasonal liver work with all the dogs about five years ago. Over time, that developed into a general rhythm I use throughout the year:

• January and July: antioxidant support

• February and August: parasite-focused support

• March and September: lymphatic support

• April and October or early November: liver support

• May and November: heavy-metal support

• June and December: kidney support

This is a framework, not a rigid calendar carved into stone. I adjust it according to the dog, the season, environmental exposures and anything else happening in the body. I also do not necessarily stop supporting one system simply because the month changed. Fresh food, hydration, movement and basic immune support continue underneath everything else.

The rotation simply gives me a way to spend more focused time on systems that can easily be overlooked until they begin to struggle.

Poppy does not have kidney disease, but I know healthy kidney function is critical to longevity. From a Traditional Chinese Medicine perspective, Kidney Qi is connected to vitality, aging, bones, the brain, endurance and the body’s deeper reserves. I do not need a diagnosis before including kidney-supportive foods, herbs and Chinese herbs periodically.

I am not treating kidney disease. I am supporting the kidneys while they are still functioning well.

The same applies to her liver, lymphatics, immune system and cellular health. I use food, herbs, essential oils, Raindrop, antioxidants, functional mushrooms, CBD, PEMF and seasonal detoxification as parts of a rotating wellness plan. Some supports stay in place. Others come and go. They are selected because they help the body continue doing its own work—not because I am pretending Poppy has every disease I worry about.

Cancer: proactive support is not treatment

Cancer is the extreme example, and it is the one that worries almost every pet parent.

Most of us have watched someone lose a dog to cancer, or we have had a veterinarian find a lump, abnormal bloodwork or something on an ultrasound that changed life in a single afternoon. It is difficult not to think about prevention when cancer has become so common.

Our bodies routinely produce cells that are damaged or abnormal. The immune system continually monitors tissues and can identify and remove many cells that are no longer functioning as they should. That immune surveillance is one of the body’s built-in protective systems.

Our efforts today can help create a healthier environment for that system to work in tomorrow.

That is why I care about fresh food, antioxidants, functional mushrooms, microbiome health, healthy inflammation, movement, appropriate weight, liver and kidney support, lymphatic flow, nervous-system regulation and reducing chemical exposure throughout the yard, home and laundry.

None of those choices guarantees that Poppy will never develop cancer. There are genetic risks, environmental exposures and biological events outside our control. Proactive care is not a promise of immortality.

It is an effort to give the body better raw materials, fewer unnecessary burdens and more capacity to identify damage, regulate inflammation and repair itself.

That is proactive cancer support. It is not cancer treatment.

If cancer develops, the approach changes. We may use more targeted nutrition, herbs, mushrooms, CBD, antioxidants and integrative therapies based on the cancer type, organ system and treatment plan. Conventional diagnostics, surgery, chemotherapy, radiation, mistletoe, ozone or other therapies may become part of the discussion. The foundation remains important, but maintenance alone is no longer enough.

The window has broken. Now we repair it.

Read more about natural cancer support for dogs.

Read more about nutrition support for dogs with cancer.

Parasites: the same principle on a smaller scale

Parasites are a less extreme problem, but they follow the same basic pattern.

We often say that a healthy body makes a terrible host. That does not mean a healthy dog can never pick up a parasite. Dogs lick the ground, drink from puddles, walk through contaminated soil and investigate wildlife droppings as though they have uncovered something valuable.

Building a healthy body means supporting stomach acid, digestion, the microbiome, intestinal integrity, immune function, nutrition and healthy elimination. Depending on the dog’s lifestyle, history and environment, seasonal parasite maintenance may also be appropriate.

That is proactive support.

However, if a dog develops Giardia, hookworms, roundworms or another active parasite burden, the approach changes. Now we may need a defined parasite protocol, targeted herbs or essential oils, sanitation throughout the home and yard, frequent laundering of bedding, gut support, binders, repeat testing or pharmaceutical treatment.

We do not continue a gentle maintenance routine and pretend we are treating an established problem. We address the parasite directly. Once the immediate issue is resolved, we rebuild the gut, restore the microbiome and return to supporting the terrain.

Cancer and parasites are clearly not the same level of threat, but the decision-making process is similar. Before there is a problem, support the systems that help protect the body. When a problem appears, change the intensity and purpose of the plan.

The quiet work of longevity

When people ask how Howie and Huey lived beyond 20, I still do not have one simple answer.

They did not come to me after I had already learned everything I know now. They grew alongside my own education. I changed their food, their vaccine schedules, their environment and the way I supported their bodies as I learned more.

They ate raw food for years. They moved to gently cooked food when that became more appropriate. They received seasonal support, Raindrop, essential oils, mushrooms, CBD, PEMF, herbs and more individualized care as their bodies aged.

When Howie showed early signs of kidney disease, I did not ignore it. I changed his food, supported the kidneys more directly and completed a cleanse. When that problem no longer appeared to be active, I did not continue treating him as a kidney-disease patient forever. I returned to supporting the body that had responded.

It was never one product, one protocol or one lucky ingredient. It was countless small decisions, along with the willingness to change those decisions as I learned more and as the dogs changed.

Mostly, it was paying attention.

They did not live long lives because I constantly treated them for diseases they did not have. They also did not live long lives because I waited for their bodies to fail before offering support.

Their health was built gradually, through thousands of ordinary choices.

I cannot guarantee another 20-year-old dog. But I can hope. I do it because I want Poppy to have the strongest body, the best quality of life and the greatest number of healthy years available to her.

I will continue preparing for the storm. I will maintain the house and keep the tools we may need nearby. I will not replace every window because it might someday break.

But when something does break, I will not confuse preparation with repair.

I will change the plan.

Read more