Notes from the kitchen

Short notes on keeping a dog healthy.

Written from our kitchen counter, not from a clinic. Plain language, short reads, the kind of thing we'd tell a friend who asked.

We're family-medicine physicians, not veterinarians. These notes are general perspective — anything specific to your dog's health belongs in a conversation with your vet.

Note · 01

What "single-ingredient" actually means.

"Single-ingredient" gets used loosely on dog-treat labels. The honest version is simple: the bag contains one thing, and that thing is what's named on the front. Chicken breast means chicken breast — not "chicken-flavored protein," not "chicken meal," not "chicken plus a binding agent."

Why does this matter? Two reasons we care about as physicians. First, when a dog is sensitive to something — a particular protein, an additive, a preservative — single-ingredient treats let you know exactly what they reacted to. There's no "natural flavor" hiding the variable. Second, the simpler the input, the easier it is to feed responsibly. You can match the ingredient to what your vet recommends, what your dog tolerates, and what you'd want them eating.

The flip side: shelf life is shorter. No preservatives means a Dogtors pouch lasts 3–4 months, not 18. We're fine with that trade.

Note · 02

How much treat is too much? The 10% rule.

A common veterinary guideline: treats should make up no more than about 10% of a dog's daily caloric intake. The rest comes from a complete and balanced meal — formulated to actually meet your dog's nutritional needs, which a treat is not designed to do.

For a 60-pound active dog eating around 1,200 calories a day, that's roughly 120 calories of treats — which goes faster than people think. A few medium-sized pieces of dehydrated chicken is closer to 80–100 calories. Two or three pieces, not the whole bag.

We feed our treats the way we'd think about it for ourselves: as something extra, not as the meal. Nova gets a couple of pieces a day, usually as training rewards or because she's being a delight. She does not get the whole pouch.

Note · 03

Why slow matters when we make treats.

Industrial dog treats are usually extruded — meaning the meat (or meat-adjacent material) is ground, mixed with binders, pushed through a die under heat and pressure, and dried fast. This is what makes shapes possible, scale possible, and a 12-month shelf life possible. It also denatures proteins more aggressively and tends to require more additives to hold form.

The slower path: thin slices, low temperature, long time. Most of the protein structure stays intact. The water leaves. Nothing else happens. The result is closer to the original ingredient — which is the entire point of single-ingredient treats. If you're going to feed your dog one thing, it should still resemble that thing when it lands in their bowl.

Slow takes longer, costs more per pouch, and means we make less of them. We accept all three. Speed is not what we're optimizing for.

Note · 04

The ten-minute walk that's better than nothing.

On the days we're slammed — back-to-back clinic, a kitchen full of trays, dinner not started — Nova still gets a walk. It just isn't always the walk we'd planned. Ten minutes around the block, on a leash, no agenda, counts. We've stopped pretending otherwise.

Most adult dogs do well with at least 30 minutes of movement a day, and high-energy breeds want considerably more. But the gap that actually matters in our experience is between zero and ten — not between forty and sixty. A short walk gets the joints moving, gets the head out of the house, and resets a dog who's been crated or napping all afternoon. Skipping it entirely is the version that shows up later as restlessness, weight, or attention-seeking behavior at 10 p.m.

We say this as physicians who give the same advice to humans every day. The walk you took beats the workout you didn't. Same logic, four legs.

Note · 05

How we introduce a new treat.

When we open a new pouch — chicken hearts, gizzards, yam, anything Nova hasn't had recently — we start small. One piece. We watch her for the rest of the day. If everything looks normal, we give a couple more the next day. If anything seems off — softer stool, scratching, low energy, anything — we stop and either wait it out or call her vet.

This isn't paranoia, it's just slower onboarding. Most dogs handle most single-ingredient proteins fine. But sensitivities are real, and a single new ingredient is the cleanest way to figure out what your dog tolerates. The bigger the variable change — a brand-new protein, a new organ meat, a treat with five ingredients — the more useful a slow introduction is.

It's also why we like single-ingredient pouches for this. If something doesn't agree, you know exactly which thing didn't agree. There's nothing else to rule out.

Note · 06

The dog who won't drink enough.

A rough rule we keep in mind: about an ounce of water per pound of body weight per day, give or take, more on hot days or after long walks. For a 60-pound dog, that's roughly half a gallon. Most dogs self-regulate well if water is available, clean, and easy to get to. Some don't, and those are the ones to watch.

Two small things that have helped us. First, we change Nova's water at least twice a day — the bowl gets dust, hair, and back-of-the-tongue residue, and dogs are pickier about that than people realize. Second, in summer or after a hike, we'll add a few ice cubes or a splash of unsalted bone broth. It's not a trick; it just makes the bowl interesting enough to drink from.

Dehydrated treats — including ours — pull a small amount of moisture out of the meat, which means the dog needs to make it up somewhere. So fresh water near the food bowl, always. That's the whole protocol.

More notes coming as we have time to write them.

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