There is Literally a Magic Fountain of Youth For Dogs. It's called "Modern Medicine."

It's commonly believed that there are no more miracles. 

This is completely incorrect. I have personally witnessed not one, but two, miracles. 

The first was about two years ago. I returned from an epic, three-month trip to Southeast Asia... and my beloved Snoofer had changed. 

Once energetic and slim, she was super fat and could hardly walk a half mile to the beach. At first, I thought, well, that's just what happens when a dog gets old. The average life expectancy for an Australian Shepherd is 11 years... and Ruby is 12. 

So I just worked on accepting it, reframing my thoughts about her aging and telling myself it was a beautiful thing to be a part of. (Which, for the record, it actually is. It's hard to watch your buddy get old... but when they curl up next to you at night or they patiently wait for you to boost them up into a car they used to bound effortlessly into,  you can't deny it's also so, so beautiful.)

Then she started coughing. Probably nothing, but I took her to the vet, anyway.

"I can't find a reason for her coughing," the vet told me. "But she is a little heavy for her size. It says here that she weighs 77 pounds."

Flipping through her chart, he continued, "Last year, she weighed 66 pounds... and the year before, she weighed 55 pounds...

I think she might have hypothyroidism."

We started her on a small, cheap pill -- a synthetic thyroid hormone -- and basically saw an instant transformation. 

Within a day, her energy levels were increasing rapidly. Within a week, she started losing weight. 

That month, she lost over ten pounds, while eating more than she'd been eating the last year. 

She was energetic! She wanted to hike and skateboard and run with me! She played with other dogs at the dog park. Sometimes, she even got so excited she would sprint in circles around me -- a behavior I hadn't seen since she was a young adult. 

She continued her weight loss the next month, before the end of which she was back to her ten-year-old weight of 55 pounds. 

She literally lost 20 pounds in two months. 

It's been about two years -- and literally not a single day has passed when she hasn't amazed me at least once with her newfound energy.

It was literally like a miracle. Like a magical miracle fountain of youth. 

But it was just a tiny little pill. Thanks, science! Thanks, modern medicine! 

However, I wasn't careless. Because I knew she was still getting older, I ordered a FitBark (a "FitBit for dogs") not only to track Ruby Snoofer's activity and make sure she gets enough exercise... but also to make sure she's not getting too much. (They say they can predict whether your dog is comfortable based on her sleep score, especially over time.)

​Several adventures and a year later -- 

​I went on another Southeast Asia trip...

And when I returned from this one, I noticed another problem with Ruby.

Despite her being as energetic as ever... she was being very delicate with her back left leg. At first, I thought it was probably just some minor injury. One of my friends had accidentally stepped on her foot recently, so we thought that might be the problem...

But then, it got worse -- she actually stopped using that leg altogether. 

So I took her back to the vet. And, as I wrote in Modern Miracles, Rustic Charm:

Diagnosing her arthritis, he told me, “She can still go to the dog park… but her mountain climbing days are over.”

That… was devastating.

Until Ruby got her miracle.

By “miracle,” of course, I mean modern medicine.

Within a day or two of starting on Rimadyl, Ruby’s limp was gone. The moment we’d arrive at the dog park, she’d take off sprinting like she was 6 years old again! Sometimes, she ran so fast I thought she was going to accidentally do a front flip!
I realized that Ruby’s mountain climbing days were not necessarily over. We just needed to find the right mountain.

Which is how we ended up at Lower Echo Lake, just south of South Lake Tahoe. We’d picked this hike because:

1. 1. 1. a. The first and last two miles of the hike could be eliminated, if necessary, by hiring a motorboat taxi from one end of the lake to the other. (How else would all those lucky lake house renters get their food, gear, and other necessities across the lake?)
      2. b. The elevation gain was relatively minimal for “mountain climbing,” and…
      3. c. It’s the kind of area that lends itself to “playing it by ear.” If things go well and Ruby seems energetic, I thought, we can hike all the way to Aloha. If she starts slowing down or seems anything less than enthusiastic, we can make camp at Ralston or Tamarack Lake, which are only about 3-4 miles in.
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It was so warm and clear, we were tempted to sleep under the stars… but, ultimately, we compromised, sleeping in the tent without the rainfly. The moon woke me when it rose, full and bright, like a spotlight. So I rolled over and spooned my little doggie.

13! I thought to myself. My brave little doggie is 13, and she made it all the way out here with me. When I saw one last shooting star before drifting back to sleep, I realized I had nothing left to wish for.

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That hike was so amazing -- and it was only the first of many that summer. 

​All because of Rimadyl.

Meanwhile, Ruby has this friend who is also 13. Let's call her Limpie.

Limpie can barely walk one block. Her skin is gross and her eyes are constantly leaking weird goo. For some reason, she itches like crazy. Like, she literally howls in agony as she relentlessly scratches her weird, flakey skin patches. 

​She reminds me of that Billy Collins poem, "​To A Stranger Born In Some Distant Country Hundreds Of Years From Now."

But everyone pushes her away,
some with a knee, others with the sole of a boot.
Even the children, who don’t realize she is wet
until they go to pet her,
push her away
then wipe their hands on their clothes.

Except it's not that Limpie is wet. It's that she's gross. 

And I can't prove this... but I suspect it's because Ruby takes Levothyroxine and Rimadyl...

And Limpie takes essential oils and "all-natural," "GMO-free," "gluten-free" food.

It's sad... but what can I do?

I guess just tell people. The difference between modern medicine and holistic/traditional medicine...

is that modern medicine is science-based, and tested for safety and efficacy...

and "traditional" medicine is based on wive's tales and hasn't been proven to do squat.

It's one thing to let yourself suffer unnecessarily because you think you can treat diseases with honey and herbs... and quite another to let an innocent animal suffer because you refuse to believe facts, data, and evidence. 

Remember: there is magic, miracle fountain of youth for dogs. It's called modern medicine. 

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Want to know more? Check out: 

• This Adorable, $10 Collar Might Save Your Dog's Life.
• Wearable Tech Didn't Work For Me. But a Year Later, I'm Still Obsessed With My Dog's FitBark.
• Genetically Modified Potatoes Contain 70% Fewer Cancer-Causing Compounds Than “Organic” Ones
• Saying "Ban GMOs" is Like Saying "Kill the Diabetics"
• I Don't Want to Date a Man Who's Politically Correct. I Want to Date a Man Who's EMPIRICALLY Correct.​