Hercules’s Journey with Holistic Pet Nutrition

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Hercules came to us when he was about three months old, which meant he arrived with all the usual puppy qualities: curiosity, energy, questionable judgment, and the ability to turn almost anything into entertainment.

Then he started eating dirt.

Not sniffing it. Not licking a little soil off his nose after digging. Hercules was taking actual mouthfuls of dirt and swallowing them as though I had somehow overlooked a perfectly respectable food group.

At first, it was funny in that very specific way puppies are funny when they are doing something disgusting.

Then it stopped being funny.

The behavior kept happening often enough that “puppies are weird” was no longer a good enough explanation, so off to the veterinarian we went.

Hercules had multiple veterinary visits, blood draws, and additional testing while we tried to understand what was going on. Eventually, his veterinarian diagnosed him with iron-deficiency anemia.     

Anemia means the body does not have enough healthy red blood cells or enough hemoglobin to carry oxygen normally. But anemia itself is not the whole diagnosis; it can have many different underlying causes, which is why veterinary investigation matters.

In Hercules’s case, the bloodwork and additional testing confirmed iron deficiency.  

And suddenly the dirt eating looked a lot less like a bizarre puppy hobby.

That behavior was the thing that made me stop and say:

Something about this deserves a closer look.

I did not diagnose him because he was eating soil.

I noticed the behavior, took it seriously, and brought it to the people whose job it was to investigate medically.

That distinction matters.

The good news was that we had an answer.

The less delightful news was that it had taken several veterinary visits, blood draws, tests, and a respectable amount of money to get there.

Hercules had apparently selected one of the more complicated ways to introduce me to the importance of careful observation.

He could not simply limp dramatically or hold up a paw.

No.

He ate the yard.

In hindsight, that is extremely on-brand for him.

At the time, I was still in school and beginning to understand more deeply how holistic pet nutrition could fit alongside veterinary care.

Hercules had already been examined, tested, and diagnosed. We had actual bloodwork to follow, which meant I was not guessing at what might be happening or deciding that one symptom automatically pointed to one nutritional answer.

I began adding fresh-food toppers to his meals and incorporated an appropriate amount of liver as part of his overall diet. We continued monitoring him through his veterinarian and repeat bloodwork. 

And I want to be very clear about something here:

This was not “puppy is anemic, therefore feed enormous quantities of liver.”

Liver is incredibly nutrient-dense, which is precisely why more is not automatically better.

It was one intentional part of Hercules’s broader nutritional support, used in the context of an established veterinary diagnosis and ongoing monitoring.

That is a very different thing from treating the refrigerator like a pharmacy.

Over the following months, Hercules’s repeat bloodwork showed that his values had returned to the normal reference range, and they have remained there since. 

Around the same time, his enthusiastic dirt eating stopped.

Goodbye, dirt buffet.

I am fairly certain the yard appreciated the development almost as much as I did.

What stayed with me, though, was not simply that the behavior stopped.

It was the lesson underneath it.

Dogs cannot tell us, “Hey, something inside my body does not feel quite right.”

They communicate with whatever tools they have: appetite, energy, behavior, digestion, coat, sleep, movement, and sometimes an intense culinary interest in topsoil.

Our job is not to diagnose an animal based on one weird behavior.

Our job is to notice.

And then decide whether that weird thing needs watching, investigating, or handing over to the veterinarian.

That is stewardship too.

Paying attention before the animal has to shout louder.

Those first fresh toppers were only the beginning for Hercules.

Today, he eats a gently cooked fresh-food diet built around his individual nutritional needs and his TCVM Fire constitution. His portions reflect his body size, activity level, and maintenance needs rather than coming from a generic recipe intended for every dog.  

That does not mean every dog with a Fire constitution should eat exactly what Hercules eats.

It means his constitution is one of the pieces I consider when I look at the dog as a whole.

Food energetics, nutritional requirements, activity, weight, preferences, history, and the actual animal standing in front of me all matter.

Hercules would also like it noted that he remains extremely enthusiastic about food in general.

Fortunately, most of it now comes from the kitchen instead of the landscaping.

Hercules recently turned four.

His follow-up bloodwork has continued to remain within the normal range, he maintains an appropriate weight, and he is a happy, energetic, thoroughly loved member of the family.     

He is also an amazing dog.

I am completely aware that I am biased.

I am also still correct.

He continues to provide opportunities for observation, education, and the occasional reminder that dogs do not care how many hours you have spent studying animal nutrition when there is something revolting available in the yard.

Humility is important.

God apparently sends some of mine with four legs.

Hercules taught me that careful observation matters, especially when something seems easy to dismiss as “just one of those things dogs do.”

If I had ignored the dirt eating because puppies are naturally weird little creatures, we might not have investigated when we did. Instead, the behavior prompted veterinary testing, the testing gave us an answer, and that answer helped shape the nutritional support and follow-up care that came next.     

He also taught me something that eventually became part of the philosophy behind Healthy Tails: holistic care is not about rejecting veterinary medicine or trying to solve everything from the food bowl.

It is about looking at the whole picture.

Sometimes nutrition has an important supporting role.

Sometimes veterinary testing gives you the information you could never get from observation alone.

Sometimes the weird behavior is the first breadcrumb.

And sometimes the dog is just being a dog.

The art is learning when to laugh and when to investigate.

Hercules gave me a very expensive lesson in both.

Mostly.

And that is probably as good a place as any to leave his story.

Hercules’s experience is one example of what it can look like when observation, veterinary investigation, thoughtful nutritional support, follow-up testing, and a very attentive Pet Parent all work together.

It is not proof that liver, fresh food, or any single ingredient will correct anemia in another dog.

Anemia has multiple possible causes, some of them serious, and another animal may need completely different treatment or medical intervention.    

The takeaway is much simpler:

• Know your animal.
• Notice when something changes.
• Ask questions.
• Use the professionals who belong in the picture.
• And never assume the backyard salad bar is “just a phase” if your gut keeps telling you something feels off.

Hercules was diagnosed with iron-deficiency anemia by his veterinarian after bloodwork and additional testing, and his progress was monitored with repeat veterinary bloodwork.     

His story reflects his individual diagnosis, veterinary care, nutritional plan, and experience. It does not mean fresh food, liver, or supplements will correct anemia in another animal.

Healthy Tails provides holistic pet nutrition and wellness education. I do not diagnose, treat, or cure medical conditions, and medical concerns belong with the appropriate veterinary team.