The Royal Treatment: A Natural Approach to Wildly Healthy Pets

CONTENTS

Terminology

Preface

Foreword

Introduction: Wild Fire

PART ONE

WILD HEALTH

Chapter 1: The Pursuit of Pet Happiness

Chapter 2: The Perfect Fit

Chapter 3: Zebra

Chapter 4: When Best Intentions Don’t Pave the Way to Health

PART TWO

WHAT WILD ANIMALS

TEACH US ABOUT OUR PETS

Chapter 5: Hoot

Chapter 6: Coco the Monkey and Wonder Bread

Chapter 7: Life’s a Zoo

Chapter 8: Don’t Make the Rabbit Scream

PART THREE

WHERE THE WILD THINGS EAT

Chapter 9: 4,000 Pet Foods and Counting

Chapter 10: Diet Is Not a Four-Letter Word

Chapter 11: Functional Pet Nutrition

Chapter 12: How to Read a Pet Food Label

Chapter 13: Don’t Feed an Anemic Hummingbird a Steak

PART FOUR

SURVIVAL OF THE FATTEST

Chapter 14: Lean Toward Lean

Chapter 15: Eight on Weight: Tips for Shedding Pounds from Hounds

Chapter 16: Eight on Weight: Tips for Fat Cats

PART FIVE

WILDEST DREAMS

Chapter 17: The Unlikely Zen Doc

Chapter 18: Rhino and Reproduction

Chapter 19: A Dog Named Fly and the Genetics of Health

PART SIX

A WILD APPROACH TO HEALING

Chapter 20: Acupuncture: The Point of Health

Chapter 21: Getting the Most Out of Your Vet Visits

Chapter 22: The Lost Art of the Physical Exam

Chapter 23: Going Dental

PART SEVEN

WILD NATURE

Chapter 24: Chat About the Cat

Chapter 25: Feral Cats, Snow Leopard Tails, and Baby Tigers

Chapter 26: Housecats Are Wilder Than You Think

Chapter 27: Cat Litter: Thinking Inside the Box

PART EIGHT

MEDICINE GONE WILD

Chapter 28: Cancer Doesn’t Come from Nowhere

Chapter 29: Vaccinations

Chapter 30: Medicine Chest

Chapter 31: Emergency Care

Chapter 32: I Usually Bring My Duck in at Twilight

PART NINE

TAKE A WALK ON THE WILD SIDE

Chapter 33: Rehab and the Coyote

Chapter 34: Chameleons and Cold Laser

Chapter 35: Tarantula Glue

Chapter 36: Rejuvenating Your Older Pet

PART TEN

WILD CIRCLE

Chapter 37: Euthanasia, the Heart of the Matter

Chapter 38: Finding the Right Time to Say Goodbye

Chapter 39: Baby Animals

Chapter 40: After the Fire

Chapter 41: Cure and Release

Acknowledgments

Professional Acknowledgments

Suggested Reading

About Dr. Barbara Royal

Index

DISCLAIMER

This book was written and published for educational and entertainment purposes only, and it is not intended to take the place of veterinary care. I recommend consulting your veterinarian for any medical or surgical treatments where necessary. The author and publisher disclaim any liability arising directly or indirectly from the use of this book.

I have included information on doses for medications, herbs, and homeopathics only to provide clarification. This is not meant to diagnose or treat disease. My goal is to provide insight into an integrative approach to veterinary medicine.

Every animal, breed, and species is different, and patients require individual assessment for proper treatment. In fact, that is a major theme of this book. I love my profession and my many dedicated veterinary colleagues. Veterinarians are some of the most wonderful people I know. In this book I hope to add to the already impressive array of veterinary treatment options for patients.

Even with animals there are patient-confidentiality issues. Many names, locations, and details have been changed to protect the innocent, the ferocious, the tame, the wild, and their natural habitats. By doing this, I hope the trail leads away from the tracks of the actual animals to protect their destination. All of the animal cases are taken from my actual experiences, some are composites, and all are remembered fondly.

I have issues with the idea of zoos and animals in captivity. But I try to be a realist. Zoos do exist, and improving the health and comfort of the animals there makes sense. People are encroaching on the wild in every part of the world, and anything we can do to improve the life of any animal seems to me to be the right thing to do.

My experiences with zoos and wildlife, while often wonderful, have not been without their share of angst. I hope to further the overall discussion about animals by sharing what I have learned.

To my children, Sean and Sophie—

your wild happiness inspires me.

TERMINOLOGY

The word patient is used to signify the animals being treated. Clients are the humans who bring patients in to vet clinics—they are also called owners or the mom and dad of the pet. The current trend to denote owner with the word guardian is laudable. While new terms can further the cause of our beloved animals, I do not use the word guardian in this book, for two reasons. First of all, I think it is often the animal that is guarding or being the guardian of the person. Second, I am habituated to the words I use daily in my clinic and want this book to reflect that ease of usage.

I use the term pet to indicate a family member from the animal kingdom.

He and she are used interchangeably to indicate various generic or specific pets.

X-rays are invisible particles that create images that are seen on a radiograph. Even though X-rays cannot be seen and radiographs can, I use both words to signify the same thing. The term X-ray is easily understood and current usage allows it, but I still cringe.

Signs of disease in animals is the term used for what would be symptoms of disease in humans. Symptoms, while a familiar term, involves a description of health problems experienced by a person. Signs are what we observe as health issues in another species. Therefore, where prudent, I have used the preferred veterinary term sign.

PREFACE

What have we done to undermine the innate health of our pets? Why are the animals in our homes riddled with disease? Why do we have more medicines for them in our cabinets than we do for our aging parents? Why do a record number of dogs suffer from cancer, obesity, diabetes, thyroid disease, and other disorders? Why do we accept this as the norm? Is it logical that a carnivore would be allergic to meat? Should a six-month-old cat be plagued by allergies? Why have we come to expect arthritis in Labradors? Does this abysmally low standard of health make any sense at all? Not in my book.

I have always felt there has to be a better way. This was gradually revealed to me throughout the many years I’ve spent working with wild animals—treating them in zoos and on their own home ground. In the early days of my career, I was oriented toward disease, focusing on what I believed to be the inevitable progression of pathologies and the intricacies of Western medicine’s prescribed treatments. Now, after coming to a better understanding of the way wild animals have evolved to sustain their own well-being in their natural environment, I direct my energy toward thinking about potential. More specifically, the potential for natural health that occurs when an animal’s evolutionary needs are fulfilled.

This is what I call wild health.

We have an incomplete understanding of our pets when we overlook the relevance of their ancestry, just as we have an incomplete understanding of our own health when we overlook our personal and genetic histories. As a result, we make misguided decisions and draw wrong conclusions about our pets’ essential needs. In the case of dogs, for example, their basic needs are not so greatly different from those of a wolf.

You may scoff and say, Listen, doc, I’ve got a peekapoo at home, not a wolf. Fair enough, but it’s important to realize that wolf biology has not been fully bred out of dogs—not even in peekapoos. Dogs have undergone a relatively brief period of selective breeding before landing in our living rooms. In fact, wolves and dogs are so genetically similar that when bred together, they can successfully produce fertile puppies. This is a surprising indicator of their great similarity; African and Asian elephants can’t even do that—and they’re both elephants. Likewise, there are more similarities than you might expect between your pouncing housecat and a stalking Bengal tiger.

The point is, the evolutionary biology of your pet is highly relevant to its overall health—and happiness. Applying that knowledge, with a little common sense along the way, will make life with your pets more of a joy and less of a job. It is far, far easier, more pleasant, and less costly to sustain natural health than to fight losing battles with avoidable diseases.

As an integrative veterinarian, I combine the best of ancient practices with cutting-edge modern technology. I am a firm believer in using modern, state-of-the-art, conventional medical treatment where it is appropriate and effective, and I rely on those in my practice every day. The right surgery and the right medication, at the right time, can work miracles. But an overreliance on medications and surgery to eradicate symptoms can sometimes do more harm than good. I have found that a proper diet, natural supplements, physical therapy, and appropriate exercise are often the best means to support an animal’s natural tendency toward balance and vibrant health.

I now consider it my job as a doctor to discern and remove impediments to an animal’s natural state of well-being and make sure it has precisely what it needs to thrive. I’ve seen remarkable recoveries in dogs, cats, rabbits, and other pets because I’ve learned a little secret from wild animals. When the basic evolutionary needs of an ailing pet are fulfilled, its body’s ability to heal and recover is heightened. Recognizing that capacity for wild health is at the core of what I do every day, for every wonderful animal that comes into my practice.

I have learned a great many things from wild animals that relate to the dog in your living room and the cat in your kitchen. However, it is possible to boil it all down to one single principle at the heart of the Royal Treatment. Informed by my experiences working with zoo animals and wildlife—from peregrine falcons to Bactrian camels to silverback gorillas to red pandas—the Royal Treatment works with, not against, nature. It balances the body’s organ systems and enhances the efficiency of an animal’s healing system. The Royal Treatment is not an elitist plan. It is designed for any species of animal and provides them with the care that nature intended. In other words, your pet can attain true health in a faux health world.

Employing the easy actions in this book, you, as a pet owner, can give your pet the Royal Treatment. Jewel, the camel, will show you what to do for your geriatric dog. Songkit, the tiger cub, will provide insight into your frisky tabby. The story of my own dog Tundra may comfort you when you realize that the time has come to end a terminally ill animal’s suffering. Easy-to-follow instructions, tips for everyday care, diet suggestions, and recipes are also included. My clients have found that this prescriptive advice not only improves the lives of their animals, but also saves them time and money. I hope it will do the same for you.

FOREWORD

Dr. Barbara Royal and I met because I had heard of her reputation to heal very sick or complicated cases, and my beloved dog Duke, a yellow lab/white shepherd mix, was fighting for his life. At only five and a half years old, he was diagnosed with cancer and given a week to live.

Three years earlier, I had rescued Duke after he survived the traumas of being a bait dog in a pit-bull fighting ring, and I witnessed his journey from a dog who was terrified of people to a dog that loved everyone. So when I received the bad news about him, I was devastated. Fortunately Dr. Royal entered the picture. She immediately assessed the situation and guided me to make better decisions, such as discontinuing medications, adding supplements, and improving his diet. Although we were thousands of miles apart—she lives in Chicago and I live in Los Angeles—she took the time to explain her medical protocols via Skype and tirelessly monitored Duke’s progress. Dr. Royal individualized a treatment plan that, along with my cooperation and the help of a new local vet, energized us all, including Duke, and he started walking and enjoying life again. Dr. Royal was able to help him when no one else could.

After we started to get to know each other, Dr. Royal and I discovered we had connected for the right reason: both of our lives have always been about healing animals.

In the twenty-five years that I’ve been working with dogs, I have had the pleasure to meet and coach a wide range of dogs and dog parents. I have also become friends with many veterinarians, but I have never met anyone like Dr. Royal. Her vast knowledge of conventional and alternative treatments is matched only by her common sense and compassion for pets and their owners.

Establishing credibility as a pioneer in any field is difficult, but Dr. Royal has done just that. With her unique approach and commitment to the animals in her care, it is no wonder that she inspires such love from her many clients, including me. In her I found a kindred spirit who looks at the totality of an animal and understands that its diet, health, and behavior are interrelated. I encouraged her to write a book because I felt that every dog owner should be as lucky as I was to have the Royal Treatment. I am thrilled that animal lovers everywhere will benefit from her extraordinary expertise, practical advice, and hopeful vision.

—Tamar Geller

INTRODUCTION

WILD FIRE

I’m crawling on the floor in our burning house. The stench of smoke and melting plastic is overpowering. My hand slides along the baseboard in the pitch black, trying to find the doorway to the bedroom. I know my animals will all be there, together. Except for our timid cat, Face, who likes to hide in the closet, on a pile of my scrubs.

I had left the house twenty minutes earlier, with my five-year-old son, when my neighbor called me on my cell phone.

Your house just burst into flames, she said, and there’s smoke pouring out of your kitchen window.

That is just not possible, I thought.

While racing home in my car, I feverishly thought through different scenarios. What could have happened? Did the fire start in the kitchen? The living room? I tried to figure out exactly what I’d have to do to get my animals out. How would I find them, and when I did, would I be able to carry them all? The cats could be tucked in a curl of my coat. The dogs would be harder. Maybe I could drape my long-legged soul mate Tundra around my neck, while carrying hefty Jake in my arms.

Fire trucks surrounded my house. I rushed my son to the next-door neighbors, hugged him tight, and told him I’d be right back.

I was halfway across the lawn to my house when Tundra jumped out of the bushes into my arms. I have never been so happy to see her. I scanned her body with my hands. She seemed okay. One out of four. Where were the others?

I asked another neighbor, who had come out to help, to take Tundra to his house. Tundra didn’t like that idea. Always protective of me, she had to be dragged away.

Without thought or hesitation, I darted into my burning house. Now, three steps in, the heat is intense. The ceiling’s on fire and I am already gasping for air. Black clouds of smoke roll at me from the kitchen; eerie flickers of light create quick silhouettes. As I drop to the floor, narrowly avoiding some falling debris, the thought crosses my mind that I might die. But the bedroom where my pets most surely are hiding is only one room away. I have to get there.

I hold my breath. Crouch low. I prepare for one quick dash through the smoke. But there’s someone else in the room with a different idea. I hear his muffled breathing through the firefighter apparatus. Suddenly I’m hauled upward by strong arms.

Many people say they would die for their pets. I don’t doubt it. I’ve been there. It’s a choice we don’t often have to make, but we feel certain we would do it just the same. I’ve also known pets that have sacrificed themselves for their owners. That’s how deep the bond goes.

But are we willing to be proactive and use that loving energy to save our pets’ lives a little bit, every day? An emergency exists now—much less obvious than the threat of a fire—but I see it daily. Increasingly, pets are suffering from the same maladies as humans: thyroid, liver, autoimmune, adrenal, and kidney diseases; arthritis; seizure disorders; and cancer. Because they live the way we live and eat the way we eat in the environment we have created for ourselves, they have inevitably fallen victim to the same illnesses that plague us.

The average Standard American Diet (SAD, an apt acronym) has changed radically in the past twenty-five years, almost entirely for the worse. Processed foods make up the bulk of our national dietary intake, contributing to rampant diabetes, cancer, obesity, and arthritis. Our pets’ diets mirror this trend. Even when owners are careful to buy the most expensive, supposedly healthy pet foods (even prescription foods), they are often poorly suited to an animal’s true nutritional needs. And since many of us have come to believe that these diseases are an inescapable part of modern life, we don’t think it strange that the same fate should befall our pets.

As for the fire that day, it continued to rage. My life was certainly saved by the fireman who half-dragged, half-carried me, protesting, back through the hallway and out the front door. Apparently he had dealt with this kind of lunacy before. With surprising forbearance, he quickly and efficiently propelled me into the cool spring air, where he gently settled me on the front lawn and asked another fireman to watch over me. They were very kind. If I were in his shoes, I would have tossed me out the door, maybe given me a swift boot on the way out, and screamed, You stupid, stupid woman!

Sitting there, I stared at what would soon be the burned-out shell of my home, watching flames lick out of the windows as it devoured the floors on which I had been crawling moments before. Unable to stop the tears, I sobbed, not even noticing the crowd that had gathered.

I stood up unsteadily, drawing a suspicious glance from the fireman designated to watch me.

I can’t just sit here; I have to do something. I said. I promise I won’t go back in the house. There wasn’t much house to go back into anyway.

At the time I could barely come to terms with what was happening. All I could think about was finding my pets. I had already done the few things I could to improve their chances of survival in the event of a household disaster. You can do these things, too:

1. Put an in-case-of-fire sign on windows or doors that tells what pets live with you. Indicate how many and what types of animals they are.

2. Microchip your pets. If your pets escape, an agency that finds them has a better chance of identifying them and contacting you.

Knowing that I had done what I could was some comfort. But most of my animals were still unaccounted for. The uncertainty of their fate was unbearable.

Circling the house, I called their names—Jake! Fingers! Face!—not knowing if they were still inside or if they would even recognize my hoarse, shaky voice. When I finally heard Fingers in the alley, her voice echoed mine with a hoarse, shaky meow. She jumped onto my shoulders. This was her signature move. Her white fur was gray with soot and reeked of smoke.

Besides the brave firefighters that day, our neighborhood garbage man was also a hero. He broke down the kitchen door and released both dogs, Tundra and Jake. By good fortune, Fingers had run out with the dogs. But where was my other cat, Face? And where had Jake gone?

3. Be sure to secure the animals that have been rescued so they can’t get back into the burning building.

Jake had been freed, but tragically he’d returned to the house. The firefighters later told me that many dogs, including German shepherds like Jake, often go back inside. It is their instinct to protect.

As I feared, Face had stayed hidden. She never did leave the closet. Jake was found right next to her with a toy in his mouth. My only comfort is that they looked peaceful together—as if they were sleeping.

I need to add one final, cardinal rule here, regarding you, your pets, and fire safety: Never, never go inside a burning building.

Do not attempt to rescue your pets. I never should have done it. But for me, I suppose, it was force of habit. I’m a veterinarian—saving animals is what I do.

THE PURSUIT OF PET HAPPINESS

If your dog wags his tail in your house and no one is there to see it, is he still happy?

I JUST WANT TO KNOW IF DAKOTA IS HAPPY. I HEAR THIS FROM owners nearly every day.

Are Simba, Diesel, Oscar, Darby, Ladybug, Numbers, Pippin, Isabelle, or Ariadne happy? How can we know?

When we brought animals out of their natural habitats and into our homes, we formed a partnership with them. The original impetus may have been for protection, but I believe that even in the very first human interactions with a cave-pet, there was an element of joy. We hope their domestication has brought them more advantages than disadvantages. Because we are grateful for what our pets offer us, we want to reliably provide what they need. We are advocates for these silent family members.

Nonetheless, they communicate with their language of wagging tails, purring, and head-butting. We’d like to believe that our pets are at least as cheerful as they might be in the wild. In general we do not concern ourselves with the comfort level of wildlife. However, when I worked in wildlife rehabilitation, I was deeply concerned about this, particularly because the animals were under human care. I was certain that once returned to the wild, they would make their own way. While quantifying the contentedness of a wild animal is difficult, I assess the happiness of pets every day.

Owners wonder if any animal can be satisfied living in an apartment, a small ranch house, a mansion, a farmhouse, or a high-rise. They might wonder if the pet that travels the world with my client Oprah Winfrey is happier than the pet living in a city apartment with my client Sondra, who works as a night nurse. Both pets seem content to me.

Pets keep us grounded in the moment. Despite our busy schedules, the pace of a pet remains the same, and we must become part of that pace, if only for a brief part of our day. A fifteen-minute walk with your dog or a quiet moment with your cat is invaluable for both you and your animal.

Pet owners understandably worry about myriad things: whether they provide too few or too many activities for their pets, whether they are feeding them the best food, if current vaccine schedules are safe, and if alternative treatments really work. Finding the right resources and correct answers is fraught with false claims and vested interests.

In response to all of this, I urge pet owners to not overanalyze. A pet should be a joy, not a job.

It is simple. Your pet lives in a safe, secure existence with a loving person. At the same time, understanding the primal imperatives will satisfy the inner wildcat and make the outer housecat purr; it will nourish the inner wolf and allow the outer puppy to grow.

I have noticed clients in my practice becoming more confident about their pet care decisions. They know that the Royal Treatment is not a plan that lavishes pets with unneeded pampering, but a sensible way to treat them. Giving your pet the Royal Treatment can ensure that he or she is not only happy but also wildly healthy. Once I’ve shown you how to do that, the next steps are a walk in the park.

THE PERFECT FIT

WHY ARE WE SO FASCINATED BY ANIMALS? BECAUSE THEY bring the wild into our living rooms. We want to reconnect with our roots and deepen our sense of where we come from. We reap many rewards from animals crossing our paths. We gain insight into the inexplicable from their truncated lives—insights about joy, love, control, surprise, play, acceptance, giving, letting go, and grief.

Whether they are permanent pets in our homes or brief encounters in nature, animals transport us with their beauty. Many people have fascinating stories about how they found their pets—or more often, how their pets found them. It may feel as if we provide for them, but it may be the other way around. They are more than just a wet nose and some fur. The sheer force of their animal nature can bring out our humanity and, at the same time, preserve a little bit of wildness in us too.

MYTHCONCEPTION

If you touch a wild baby animal, the mother will reject it.

Not true.

You can return a baby bird to its nest, and the mother will take it back. Don’t worry about leaving your scent on the fledgling. Most birds don’t have a good sense of smell. Feel free to put baby bunnies back, too.

When I worked long hours in a veterinary emergency clinic, our dog, Tundra, got up from wherever she was and ambled over to the door to wait for me—always about twenty minutes before I arrived home. This would be understandable if the time I came home was the same every night. But there were no regular shifts.

It seemed like somehow Tundra always knew when I was on my way. My husband, Matt, and I decided to try an experiment. It took twenty minutes for me to drive home. As I got in the car to start the drive home, I checked my watch. If he happened to notice Tundra going to the front door, he’d check his. These times were always within about two minutes of each other. She knew when the homeward-bound decision had been made. How? I have no idea.

The more I’ve learned about animals, the more I believe we underestimate their ability to interpret and interact with unseen forces in our world. Could Tundra hear my car start from six miles away? Is there some frequency it gave off or that I gave off when I travel? Or could it be a phenomenon that is not yet fully understood by humans?

I don’t know how Tundra knew when I was close to home, but I do know that electro-sensors have been discovered around sharks’ mouths. These electro-sensors detect body electricity from several yards away. They can detect even a five-billionth of a volt. Bats can correctly locate and intercept a moving insect from over ten feet away in the dark. Snakes have sensors tuned for heat that allow them to distinguish changes in temperature as little as 0.01 degree Fahrenheit from a foot away. This allows them to follow the heat trail of passing prey in the dark and find warm places to help regulate their own body temperature. Trees have been documented to communicate with each other over vast distances in response to threats from insects. In fact, all living things—animals, plants, and humans—give and receive cues to help us fit together on this planet.

Pets in our homes can contribute to a better, more balanced life. From fish to felines, from cockatoos to canines, animals give us sight lines back to our evolutionary heritage.

The original reason that people had pets was that they provided us with something we needed and vice versa. The idea was that they seamlessly fit into the lives of humans. Cats lived in a barn because they took care of a rodent problem. Dogs provided a second set of eyes and acute hearing as an early-warning system, and a sharp set of teeth for protection. They lived on a combination of our leftover meat and whatever they could catch on their own. Up until recently, most leftovers were not grain-based.

It’s possible to imagine that, over time, dogs and even cats could evolve to eat as we do, digesting more corn or wheat, or even becoming vegetarians. But that radical a change would require long-term adaptation. An example that illustrates this point is the divergent diet preferences of two animals, both in the bear family, Ursus: the