What if great pet care started with fewer defaults and more decisions? We sit down with holistic veterinarian Dr. Sasan Hyatt to rethink parasite control, vaccination schedules, and daily nutrition with a clear focus on resilience over routine. Instead of chasing problems with stronger chemicals, we look at how whole-food diets, targeted testing, and simple environmental changes reduce risk and improve quality of life.

We dive into the realities of ticks, fleas, and Lyme disease and why a healthy, less “attractive” host matters. Dr. Hyatt lays out practical, lower-toxicity layers for prevention: safe garlic dosing by weight, nettle and spirulina blends, ultrasonic and ceramic tick collars, and when a short course of selamectin makes sense for fleas. On Lyme, we separate positive tests from actual illness, discuss immune-supportive strategies, and explore teasel root’s potential while calling for more veterinary data. For heartworm, we prioritize annual blood screening and early detection over blanket prophylaxis.

Vaccines get a measured approach. Rabies protection is non-negotiable, but titers can document lasting immunity and help avoid over-vaccination that may fuel allergies and autoimmune issues. We also talk candidly about emerging mRNA-based pet vaccines and why asking for traditional formulations is wise until questions are settled. From there, we zoom out to the home: filtered water over tap, modified citrus pectin (PectaSol) to bind glyphosate, low-residue detergents, double rinses, bedding hygiene, and how a quick baking-soda first pass can stop skunk oils from setting in. For mobility and pain, osteopathy, chiropractic, and rehab often succeed where sedating drugs fall short.

This is a compassionate, evidence-forward blueprint for pet parents who want their animals to thrive without unnecessary exposure. You’ll leave with concrete steps: upgrade the bowl with cooked or raw whole foods and mushrooms like shiitake and chaga, use smart, layered parasite defenses, test before you boost, and make home a cleaner, calmer ecosystem. If this conversation helped you see pet health differently, follow the show, share it with a friend, and leave a quick review to help more owners find it.

Walk a 200-year-old market with us and meet the people who turn fields, hives, herds, and ovens into food that actually lasts and tastes like home. This is a guided tour of the Peterborough Farmers’ Market, where stories of craft and community sit behind every jar, loaf, and bundle of greens.

We start with why local often means smarter value: lettuce that keeps five weeks, Brussels sprouts that last longer on the stalk, and produce picked midweek and sold on Saturday for maximum freshness. From there, we stop by a second-generation beekeeper for raw and pasteurized honey, beeswax candles, and a primer on basswood’s citrusy honey versus buckwheat’s molasses-like depth. An emu farmer shares how emu oil supports sore joints and skin, and a small-batch cheesemaker walks us through curds, flavoured cheddars, and bold 10-year wheels made by hand.

Textiles take center stage with alpaca fiber: how grading works, why alpaca socks wick and warm without itch, and how felted dryer balls cut static and drying time without chemicals. We taste our way through deep-fried pierogies in classic potato cheese, roasted cabbage and onion, and truffle-parmesan, then explore dedicated gluten-free baking—from pies and loaves to freezer-ready lasagna. Microgreens growers harvest live for you at the stall, offering sunflower, radish, broccoli, and mixes that elevate salads, wraps, burgers, and soups with serious nutrients and shelf life. Even pets get a seat at the table with single-ingredient dehydrated treats like beef lung, tendons, and chicken feet sourced from inspected farms.

Along the way, we highlight how markets launch businesses, build trust, and keep dollars close to home. You hear the practical tips—how to store stalk sprouts, how to pair maple-infused cheddars, how to use microgreens beyond salads—and the bigger takeaway: buying local isn’t a luxury; it’s a resilient, flavorful way to eat and live.

The woods don’t shout their lessons; they whisper them through blisters, bandages, and the warm glow of a stove that finally wins against the cold. We open with Gunnar, our chocolate lab, whose paw surgery turns into a candid look at corporate vet practices, realistic costs, and the small rituals that keep him healthy—yes, right down to the toothbrush. From there, we step into the birch stands and unpack what years of ethical chaga harvesting have taught us: how to use the right tools, why leaving a live margin matters, and what the mycelium hidden in a birch’s heartwood reveals about this storied fungus.

Gear and grit take center stage as we trade too-hot rubber boots for supportive soles that tame plantar fasciitis across long, leaf-slick miles. We get practical about layers, coveralls over shorts, and the packout details that make a ten-kilometre day feel doable. Back at camp, small comforts roll in hot from the pan: carrots parboiled, then sautéed in butter and garlic; pickled wild leeks with perfect crunch; and hot peppers that find their way onto nearly everything. There’s mischief, too—like swapping mayo in a Hellman’s jar—and a listener testimonial praising chaga cream for fast healing.

The bush has a way of writing plot twists. A nagging arm injury becomes a hospital odyssey and ends with a two-inch sliver finally sliding free—equal parts relief and “you won’t believe this.” We round things out with heat: a log cabin that needs a full day to warm, backup propane to jumpstart the process, and a fireplace insert at home that sips wood while heating the house with help from the furnace fan. We even tease a new chaga mint line and share where to find us at holiday markets.

If you love smart outdoor talk that blends fieldcraft with camp kitchen joy, sustainable foraging, and the real-world fixes that keep a trip on track, you’ll feel at home here. Subscribe, share the show with a friend who lives for the bush, and leave a review with your best camp hack—we might try it on our next run under the canopy.