Muggles is going vegan for Christmas – will he reap the benefits?

Can Muggles survive on a vegan diet? God knows, but I’m giving it my best shot. It all started when I met this yummy mummy in the local vet. I could hardly believe her sleek golden retriever was the same breed as Muggles, who looks like a matted sheep at the best of times.  

“How do you do it?” I asked her in awe. Talk about a glossy coat. It looks like it’s had a blow dry with a conditioning treatment.  

“A raw food diet,” she told me proudly. “All our working gun dogs are on it.”  

When she tells me Apollo is the same age as Muggles, six, I nearly faint; I thought he was a sprightly puppy. As she sped off in her Landrover Defender with Apollo, who wears a red silk scarf around his neck to keep him warm and doesn’t need a lead as he is so well trained, I wondered where have I gone wrong? 

Why don’t I live in a farmhouse with roaring fires and horses in the stables? Why aren’t Muggles and I going on pheasant shoots together? Would it be possible for him to return a game bird in his mouth without just dropping the bones at my feet? I can’t change who I am, but I can change Muggles's diet.

If it’s all down to raw meat, raw bones, and raw vegetables, I’m going to sign up Muggles right now. As soon as I get home, I look up the raw food company she told me about.  

Free-range turkey? Free-range duck? I put in Muggles’s weight of 39kg – how much of the stuff am I buying a day? I have the shock of my life: if I’m generous and maintain his weight, the daily recommendation is 740g a day. That translates as 84 x 250g tubs a month. 

Where the hell would I store all these cylindrical tubes of free-range, certified organic meat, and veg? It’s no surprise it’s fit for human consumption when I see the price tag: £125 per month. I’m trying to get my dad a duck for Christmas as a special treat – but I’m not going to those lengths for the dog. I decide to opt for the vegan diet – canned and dried dog food is essentially junk food.  

I’ve heard a lot of good reports about dogs going vegan: I’m told they go to live into their late teens and early twenties. Plus we could help save the planet by switching dogs to a plant-based diet.  I'm vegetarian – as are Lola and Liberty – so it all fits in nicely.  

A vegan diet might also help dogs with arthritis, which Muggles has since undergoing TPLO surgery to fix a torn canine cruciate ligament. Plus who knows, maybe a healthier diet will prevent him from getting more tumours. So far they have been benign but it’s been scary.

So the plan is this: I am going to grate raw vegetables and start mixing it in with his diet chicken kibbles, gradually weaning him off meat.  Will Muggles enjoy a diet of rice, lentils, and organic vegetables? Could he too have a record-breaking lifespan of 29 years like that border collie I read about?  

Muggles will eat anything – including grass, mud, and playdough –  so I doubt he will miss meat.  By mid-week, he’s full vegan, eating pureed sweet potato, pureed brown rice, sprouted organic tofu, chia seeds, and digestive enzymes. For snacks, I found a vegan dog sausage made from lentils and wholegrain rice with added spirulina and vitamins.

That’s when I think, hang on a minute? Why aren’t we eating this as a family? Why is Lola eating pizza and Liberty fish and chips? I’m nibbling on yoghurt and raspberries for supper. Why is my dog eating more healthily than the rest of us? Ok I don’t want Muggles eating slaughter-house leftovers which can include horns and feet, but this can’t go on. 

Muggles is a bit listless too – having lost a bit of weight. It’s all well and good, but I need to lose a bit of weight and go vegan – not the dog. It’s insanity; it’s a classic case of co-dependency. How did I fall down this hole again? I’ve been blindsided by it, despite having read every book on the subject in early 12-step recovery: Codependent No More used to be a staple at bedtime.

I am putting the dog's needs before my own. I need to stop caretaking him and do a bit of self-care myself.  So I call up for a massage but end up having to change Liberty’s nappy mid-way through it. As she starts to massage my head, my mind really begins to relax. “I’m in heaven. I really am. Finally.” That’s when I notice a revolting smell. The dog has farted – explosively from all the veggie food. 

The massage woman leaps to the open window and throws off her mask and face shield just to breathe in some clean air. "I’m so sorry,” I tell her. “The dog is on a vegan diet.” She can’t breathe properly – I have to get up – and get Muggles out into the garden. I pay the massage woman. “Happy Christmas!” she says as she makes a quick exit. That’s it: I may be having a nut roast for Christmas, but Muggles is going back on his chicken kibbles. I may throw him a chicken fillet or a roast beef bone for Christmas dinner, but no more vegan food. After all, he is descended from a wolf – surely his fangs are meant for meat.