a really bad dog whisperer – that’s me.

There has been possibly a total of five months I’ve owned my dog where he hasn’t been on some type of medication. Pain medication when his nuts were removed, two rounds of allergy medication for a rash that wouldn’t go away, 45 days worth of Ivermectin for his alleged Demodectic Mange, typical Heartworm medication every month, and now he’s on another round of pain pills and antibiotic for his recent toenail situation.

He’s not the best medication taker in the world, but I can usually figure out a way to get a tablet or capsule of some sort rammed down his throat. The syringe full of 5.4 cc of cherry-flavored Ivermectin isn’t his favorite, but he knows he gets a slice of cheese when he’s done, so that’s become an easy task.

His recent twice-daily dosages of Cephalexin have become what I like to refer to as a huge bitch.

Shoving the pill in a wad of peanut butter no longer works, nor does wrapping it in any type of meat and/or cheese substance. I resorted to the nasty trick of holding his mouth shut until he swallowed it Friday night, but he pulled some scene out of Girl, Interrupted and hid the pill under his tongue for a good three minutes.

Since I’m only in the third chapter of Cesar Milan’s book called “Cesar’s Way” and it hasn’t covered how to make a dog eat a pill yet, I’ve resorted to my own special tactic.

Half a can of wet dog food (he normally gets dry), a few dollops of peanut butter, a ripped apart slice of cheese, and one tinly little 500mg capsule. This is his idea of a all you can eat buffet – it’s all of his favorites in one stinky dish. And he ate the pill.

Yes, Cesar Millan might possibly be slightly crazy, but I’ve pulled a few of his tricks and, while I don’t have the quick Mexican accent like Cesar, Little Riley Fancy Pants knows when I mean business and when it’s time for me to be the leader of the pack.

Did I mention I love my dog? Because I do.