Feeding & Nutrition

The fleas found us in July. Not a full invasion, just that first telltale bite on my ankle at three in the morning, then the scratching that meant our old terrier, Buster, had company he hadn't invited. The vet wanted twenty-eight quid for a packet of tablets, and I'm not proud to say I hesitated.

A woman at the village fete, the one who keeps goats and knows everything about everything, said try brewer's yeast. Sprinkle it on the food, she said, they hate the taste of you after. I'd heard the theory before and filed it next to the moon and the tide, but Buster was miserable and I was cheap, so I bought a tub.

It's a fine yellow powder that smells exactly like the inside of a bakery at five in the morning. I shook a flat spoon over his dinner, mixed it through, and he ate it without comment, which for Buster means he approved. The house, for the next week, smelt faintly of warm bread at every meal.

Did it repel fleas? Hard to say. The scratching eased within a fortnight, but I'd also hoovered the sofa within an inch of its life and washed his bed, so I can't give the yeast sole credit. What I can say is it didn't hurt him, it's cheap, and it turned dinner into something that smelt oddly comforting.

The vet, when I mentioned it at the next jab, raised an eyebrow and said the evidence is thin but it's a harmless supplement and some dogs do seem less bothered. She said the real fix is still the proper treatment for the environment, not just the dog. She was right, as vets usually are when they're damping down my home remedies.

I kept it up through the summer, a spoon a day, and noticed his coat got a bit glossier, which the goat woman claimed was the B vitamins. Maybe. The yeast is rich in them, and Buster's wiry little body did look less dull by September. Or maybe I was just looking harder because I'd spent money on the tub.

One caution nobody mentioned: too much, and you get a gassy dog and a gassy kitchen. I learned that the week I doubled the dose after a particularly enthusiastic flea sighting, and regretted it quietly for two days. A spoon, not a shovel, is the lesson.

I wouldn't tell anyone to skip the vet treatment for a real infestation. But as a gentle, cheap, smells-like-bread daily thing, the brewer's yeast earned its place in the cupboard. Buster never complained, and the scratching stopped, and sometimes that's all you need to know.

The goat woman was right about one thing and wrong about another. Right that the yeast is harmless and cheap. Wrong that it would end the fleas alone. The real end came from a proper spot-on treatment the vet prescribed once I admitted the home remedy wasn't enough, plus the hoovering and the washed bed. The yeast was the gentle backup, not the hero, and I've made my peace with that.

The smell became a household feature. My partner, who'd rolled her eyes at the potato phase, rolled them harder at the bakery smell, but admitted it beat the dog-smell of a terrier who'd rolled in something unspeakable, which Buster does seasonally like clockwork. So the yeast stayed, and the kitchen kept smelling faintly of bread, and we all adjusted the way households do to the small oddities of the person who feeds the dog.

I tried a pinch on the cat's food too, out of curiosity, and Maude ate it without comment, which for Maude is enthusiasm. Whether it did anything for her coat I couldn't say, but she didn't itch more, and the vet said it was fine in small amounts, so it joined the rotation on the days the dog's tub was open anyway.

A neighbour asked what I was doing, caught the smell, and went and bought her own tub for her spaniel. Now the whole close smells faintly of a bakery at dinner time, which is a weird and oddly comforting thing to realise on a walk. Buster, oblivious to his influence, just licks the bowl and waits for the next spoon.

I'll be honest about the limits. The yeast didn't clear the fleas, and anyone telling you a kitchen supplement will is selling something. But as a cheap, harmless daily thing that maybe helped a little and certainly didn't hurt, it earned its tub in the cupboard. Buster's coat did look a bit better by autumn, and the scratching did ease, and whether that was the B vitamins or just the attention I was paying, I've stopped caring about the why. The dog is comfortable. That's the metric that matters.