Looking back over my lifespan, I don’t recall ever disobeying what a doctor suggested. If someone were trained to protect my journey in life, I would follow their instructions. In many cases, I happily do what they have told me and even go beyond their recommendations. In my previous article, I wrote about going beyond twenty-minute cardiovascular exercise to thirty minutes. That was my going the extra mile or at least ten minutes.

Nonetheless, I’m still trying to reach my target weight of 175 lbs. It would make all my primary care physicians over the decades happy that I was at least trying. Regardless of the medical backgrounds of my various doctors, I don’t ignore their insights.

Interestingly, this essay is about veterinarians and their advice. I got my Irish Setter, Ginger, as a puppy nearly eight years ago. Earlier in my life, I had two previous Irish Setters. Nonetheless, in my twilight years, I wanted another Irish Setter. I drove 500 miles from Crown Point, IN, to a small town east of Pittsburgh, PA, where a breeder had a newborn puppy. After putting Ginger in a carrier, we drove ten hours to my home. That long ride together bonded the two of us. She wanted out to the carrier, which wasn’t safe for her. Instead, I put my hand in the carrier to soothe my anxious puppy.

We arrived home late in the afternoon. Ginger was excited about her new digs as she wandered around the house. Ginger spent much of her time smelling everything. All was well. After beginning potty training, it was time to go to bed. I showed Ginger the large crate awaiting her. There it sat, a crate for a large dog. If Ginger wanted to leave the small carrier, she wanted to be even more free from her large crate. To verbalize her desire to be free, she whined all night.

Several days and nights later, Ginger and I went to a local vet for her first canine exam. The vet said Ginger was fine but asked me if I had any concerns about my new puppy. I told the vet I love Ginger, but she whines all night in the crate, which kept me up.

It was one of those moments, like one thousand and one, one thousand and two. Then, the vet inquired where the crate was located. I said the crate was in my bedroom, and she recommended that I move the crate. The vet added a one-liner, “Either you will train Ginger, or Ginger will train you.” I learned that lesson. Ginger never again whined all night, and I also had restful nights.

Fast forward to the present. Ginger has had several weeks of diarrhea. I give her medicine for the diarrhea, but for some reason, she won’t eat her meals, especially in the morning and also some evenings. So, if she doesn’t want to eat, I let it go. My reasoning was that she will get over not feeling well.

Ginger has had inflammatory bowel disease for several years and is on prescription food and a litany of meds. The net result is that she has dropped from 83 pounds to the mid-60s, a loss of nearly 20 pounds. Ginger and I have been down at Purdue Veterinary Hospital so often that I couldn’t guess the number. She has been hospitalized there three times.

When Ginger wasn’t eating recently, I thought we would play Chuck-It. She loves the exercise. As a reward for fetching the ball, I’ll give her some prescription dry dog food. If I only feed her the prescription dry food for a meal, she will walk away without sampling it. This time, Ginger ate the entire pouch of dry dog food. Hmmm?

We went home, and when she needed to take her meds, I wrapped them up in her wet prescription dog food, which Ginger ate. Next, I mixed her wet and dry dog food in her bowl. Ginger wouldn’t eat mixed wet and dry food at home but ate dry dog food while playing Chuck-It. It didn’t make sense to me.

I tried feeding Ginger the wet and dry combo in a hand-to-mouth format, which I used for her meds. It worked. She wouldn’t eat the mixed food in her bowl. However, when I employed the hand-to-mouth format, she ate the same food she refused to eat from her bowl.

That worked, and I continued to feed her the entire meal using the hand-to-mouth technique. Late in the day, we went out again and played Chuck-It. We returned home, and it was dinnertime. I gave her a meal in the bowl, and she walked away from it.

Sometimes, I will put food in Ginger’s hollow blue bone instead of using the hand-to-mouth technique.

Whether she eats it from her hollow blue bone is up to how she is feeling that day. As I pondered my dilemma, I thought Ginger had created a Gordian Knot for me.

A Gordian Knot

It is a vexing question. Training Ginger or Ginger training me is what haunts me. If I train Ginger, I face the reality of jeopardizing her health vs. allowing her to decide what is best for her. As I compose this article, I remember Ginger’s first hospitalization at Purdue Veterinary Hospital. She was in their ICU being fed intravenously...because she wouldn’t eat. Dr. Derrè, before going home after work, stopped to see if he could get Ginger to eat at least some food. Ginger refused. He was aware that Ginger couldn’t be on IVs all the time.

I feel like Dr. Derrè felt. However, I feel that angst all the time. I don’t know what he said to Ginger in the ICU, but she finally started to eat again late that evening. Ginger has created a Gordian Knot and wants me to resolve the dilemma reminiscent of Alexander the Great. Alexander was in Phrygia in Anatolia, which is present-day Turkey.

Alexander the Great untied the Gordian Knot.

I hope I am as successful as Alexander the Great was two millennia ago. I want to untie Ginger’s version of the Gordian Knot.