The moment that changed everything for me was watching a friend’s nine-month-old Great Dane puppy bloat and die. It was sudden, devastating, and it stayed with me. At the time, I was feeding what I believed was one of the best commercial dog foods available, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that nutrition played a role.
That moment sent me down a path of research that would ultimately change everything about how I feed my dogs.
As I dug deeper, what I found was deeply concerning. Wheat middlings—essentially sweepings off the floor—were being used as fillers. More troubling were the by-products: large vats that could include euthanized and diseased animals, along with chemical contaminants. At the same time, I discovered that in parts of Europe, where dogs were fed real, whole foods rather than processed diets, bloat was virtually unheard of.
That contrast made it impossible for me to ignore what I was seeing.
In the 1980s, I began exploring alternative feeding methods and followed the work of Juliette de Bairacli Levy, who advocated for a more natural diet of raw meat and herbs. I sourced large tins of raw meat and incorporated herbal supplementation, trying to replicate a more natural approach. But despite my efforts, I couldn’t keep weight on my dogs. Something was still missing.
Eventually, I went back to feeding high-quality commercial food, doing the best I could with what I had available at the time. I supplemented heavily—soaking oats overnight and adding them to their meals, along with cottage cheese, yogurt, and other whole food additions—in an attempt to improve the overall nutritional value.
I was trying to fix a system I knew wasn’t right, but I still didn’t have the full answer.
The Turning Point: When Everything Changed
Everything shifted for me in 1999 when I came across the book Give Your Dog a Bone.
Up until that point, I had spent years trying to figure out how to feed better—researching, experimenting, and moving back and forth between raw feeding attempts and higher-quality commercial diets. I had made progress, but I still hadn’t solved the problem.
At that time, I had a Great Dane who was bloating regularly—weekly. This wasn’t mild discomfort. I was passing a tube multiple times a week to relieve the pressure and keep him from progressing to a full torsion.
Anyone who has dealt with bloat understands how serious—and how dangerous—that is.
When I read Give Your Dog a Bone, it finally made sense. It wasn’t just the idea of feeding raw—it was the structure behind it. It filled in the gaps I hadn’t been able to figure out on my own.
I made the decision to switch completely.
I started with chicken carcasses and then moved into chicken backs and necks. I remember thinking very clearly at the time that if he bloated again, those bones were not going to come back up through a tube.
But he never did.
From the moment I made the switch, the bloating stopped—completely. He never bloated again for the rest of his life. That dog went on to live to 10–12 years old, and I never had to pass a tube on him again.
That was the moment I knew I was finally on the right path.
Refining the Approach Over Time
That turning point wasn’t the end of the journey—it was the beginning of refining it.
Over the years, I continued to build on that foundation, incorporating vegetables into the diet—initially grinding them to improve digestibility—while continuing to adjust based on what I observed in my own dogs. As my understanding of nutrition and gut health evolved, so did my approach. I transitioned from ground vegetables to fermented vegetables to support a healthier microbiome, and began incorporating natural probiotic sources such as raw goat’s milk kefir, along with homemade yogurt, fresh eggs, and other whole food additions tailored to the individual dog.
What I do today is not about creating a perfectly balanced meal at every feeding. It’s about creating balance over time—across days and weeks—based on the needs of the dog in front of me.
That level of understanding doesn’t come from theory. It comes from decades of hands-on experience, observation, and a willingness to continuously learn and adapt.
