PawGuard ad: Frenchies could have been saved

The first time my new Frenchie started licking her paws, I called her by the name of the dog we'd lost. My husband looked up from the television, and I pretended I hadn't noticed. Our first Frenchie was Tank. He'd been gone for two years, but I still sometimes moved my feet in bed as though I needed to leave him room. Now there was another little dog beside us, making a sound I remembered from him, and his name had come out before I'd thought about it. Getting Mabel had taken us a long time. When we brought her home, I promised myself I'd let her be her own dog. She made that easy at first: she collected my husband's socks, carried them into the living room and waited until he noticed before running away. Tank had never done that. I loved having something about her that belonged only to her. Then the paw licking started, and I caught myself watching her the way I'd watched him. At her appointment, I told Dr. Sarah about the licking and about calling her Tank. We discussed what needed checking and what to do next, but afterward I still found myself listening whenever Mabel settled beside me. I didn't want every evening with her to feel like waiting for something to go wrong. A few days later, I called Joanne, the breeder Mabel had come from. She knew about Tank and how long we'd waited before getting another dog. When I told her what was going on, she invited us over. I wanted to talk to someone who understood why a small sound could bring so much back. One of Joanne's older Frenchies met us in the kitchen. She had grey around her muzzle, but when Mabel picked up a toy, she walked straight over, took it from her and carried it to the sofa. Joanne laughed and moved over to make room. “She still thinks everything in this house belongs to her,” she said. I watched the older dog squeeze into the space beside Joanne. Tank used to do that, then look offended if we tried to move him. “I wanted this with him,” I said. Joanne looked up, and I explained what I meant: an old dog who still stole the best seat and expected everyone to work around him. I'd wanted to know what Tank would be like when he was old. Joanne put the kettle on and let me talk. I told her about saying his name and about how quickly my mind went back to everything we'd tried for him. While we talked, Mabel found another toy and brought it over. For a moment, I could picture her older, still making a nuisance of herself in somebody's kitchen. “I know you can't tell me how long I'll get with her,” I said. “But tell me what you do for your dogs every day. I've bought so many things before, and I still feel like I'm guessing.” Joanne started with the older dog's meals, activity and veterinary care, explaining how she'd adjusted them as the dog got older. When she mentioned supplements, I asked her to slow down. With Tank, I'd bought powders, oils and chews, often late at night after reading about somebody else's dog. I could remember how hopeful I'd felt placing those orders, but I couldn't have explained every ingredient I was giving him. She told me what she looked for in the supplement she used: probiotics for gut support, prebiotic fiber to feed beneficial gut bacteria, and salmon oil for omega 3 fatty acids that supported skin nutrition. She explained each one in ordinary terms. A product being called a probiotic didn't tell me whether it also contained the fish oil I'd been looking at separately. “I bought a probiotic for Tank, and I bought oils too,” I told her. “Do you mix all of those into her food?” Joanne said the ingredients she'd just described were together in a chew she gave her dog. I asked which one, and she got up to open the cupboard. The older Frenchie climbed down from the sofa as soon as she heard it open. Mabel followed her into the kitchen, determined not to miss whatever was happening. Joanne took out a jar and handed it to me. It was PawGuard's French Bulldog Longevity Chews, and when I turned it over, she pointed out the ingredients we'd been talking about. “This is the one you use?” I asked. She said it was, alongside the rest of her dog's care, and suggested taking a picture of the label to Dr. Sarah so we could check it against Mabel's food and anything else she was getting. I photographed the jar with Mabel's ears just visible at the bottom because she'd come over to investigate. Before I put the jar down, I asked Joanne whether she ever wished she'd started something sooner with one of her dogs. She looked at me and said, “You did what you knew to do for Tank.” I hadn't realized how much of this conversation was still about him. Every decision for Mabel had become another chance to wonder what I should have done differently before. When I left, I had something specific to discuss with Dr. Sarah. We went through the PawGuard formula, the serving directions and how it fitted with Mabel's food and care. We still needed to follow up on her licking, but I understood the role of the supplement I was considering. Once we'd checked that, I ordered the jar. That evening, Mabel appeared in the living room with one of my husband's socks. He held out his hand, she backed away, and I started laughing. I thought about Joanne moving over for the older dog and accepting that she was going to lose most of her seat. For a little while, I could imagine ordinary afternoons like that with Mabel, instead of immediately remembering the dog we'd lost. For anyone wondering which chews Joanne showed me, they were PawGuard's French Bulldog Longevity Chews. Here's the formula I took to Dr. Sarah. ThePawGuard.com