Finicky eaters

When I was young I had a thyroid imbalance. Hyper actually, so much so that my mom told doctors she thought I was having seizures. No idea how she got seizure out of hyperkinetic (maybe hyperkinetic hadn’t been thought of then), but nevertheless the doctors believed her (no one really ever disbelieved my formidable Mother), so they prescribed what was then an experimental drug for epilepsy.

It nearly killed me.

After my severe reaction which included hospitalization with a very high fever, terrible rash and blisters all over me the size of box turtles which later burst and the skin on my entire body peeled it was determined I was not epileptic. Warned that unless I wanted instant death I must never take even one dose of that medicine (why would I), the doctors still had no idea what the problem was. I was happy because, at 5 feet 7 inches I weighed a lithe 115 pounds. Mainly because I had no appetite for anything much except what causes everyone else to pack on the pounds: potato chips, cookies, ice cream. I had a wonder metabolism.

Mother did everything she could to interest me in good food, especially breakfast foods: she made scrambled eggs sound wonderful. She plied me with cinnamon toast and crispy French toast dripping with butter and syrup. She offered any sort of cereal brand I would eat. I was having none of it. So she caved and said whatever I would eat for breakfast she would let me eat.

This included vegetable soup and ice cream.

Ultimately this fantasy life didn’t last and my poor little thyroid gave out, underproducing but it took a specialist friend Mother had in New York city to diagnose it. Then endocrinologists which helped put the thing back in balance.

All well and good, but what do I do with 2 dogs with very different eating habits? Husky-mix rescue dog Lily eats everything in sight, and retains it. No thyroid problem for her, she just stays stocky. New little terrier-mix rescue dog Lulu won’t eat for days. Especially not in thunder storms, or anything that sounds like one. Since I live where I do there are 2 large army bases nearby and we often get F-15s on flyovers, or Air Force 2 doing touch-and-gos with the fighter jets clearing airspace before and after. Then there are the military helicopters.

Lulu did eat well when we first adopted her. I would put her bowl down and she’d clean it about as fast as sister Lily. Then she wasn’t so interested, so I dressed it up with Parmesan cheese. She soon bored of that so I added some chicken broth. No good after a couple of days so I switched to shredded cheddar cheese. Now pretty much nothing but stark hunger works. So I look at Lulu wistfully watching Lily wolf down her bowl of food, snubbing her own. And I wrap it up waiting for a time when she is hungry enough to eat it. But Lulu loves rotisserie chicken, only right after I bring it home from the store. If it’s been in the refrigerator a day or two, no good.

I am out of ideas.


“Now, where did I hide that rawhide bone…. ”




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