Your Pet Costs A Lot?

Dear Lady At The Vet’s Office with the (probably real) Designer Bag (how would I know?) Who Didn’t Want to Buy her Sick Cat Some Medicine Because of the two-figure “Cost,”

Um, maybe I can offer a little perspective.

Our twelve-year-old yorkie wasn’t cheap when we got him—well, not to us.  We’re people who should adopt from a shelter, but we can’t resist purebred puppydom.   Please don’t judge: we try not to.  The 600 bucks took a bite out of our paychecks, but having the tiny black ball pounce all over me as I lay on the floor made it worth every penny.

His running stopped soon.  So did his eating.  Long story short, we got a lemon.  Born with a congenital condition, at five months old, Superhero VetMen with large hands had to use tiny instruments to shut down one of his teeny arteries so that proteins wouldn’t bypass his liver.  While under the effects of amnesia these Superheroes also took the opportunity to remove a row of his double teeth.  (what a reject dog we got). Cost?  $3,000.

We were told that he’d still lead a good life, but he’d have to be on prescription dog food.  Plus, because of his compromised position, every time he has needed teeth cleaning, it has literally cost $700.  This is an annual fee. 

All of these aforementioned costs, of course, were being tallied before what will heretofore be referred to as the Big Incident (BI).

Also before the BI Jack got into some grapes.  Turns out, good for people: not so good for dogs.  He had to be monitored and given fluids.  Cost?  About $1000. 

Other Small Things Before the BI:

·      When at the groomers, apparently the anal-glad secretion created some discomfort for the little guy’s ass.   He moped around in such a peevish state that we dragged him to the emergency vet.  Nothing wrong, but the emergency vet fee is like $75. 

·      When we put some kind of flea treatment on him, he acted like he did with the anal gland.  Another useless trip to the emergency vet, just in case!

Five years ago came the BI.  It was morning.  Diane took Jack to the front yard to pee.  That’s when I heard the scream.  Diane doesn’t scream.  So, the fact that it was a curdling scream wasn’t comforting.  

As the story goes, two hungry pit bulls had been out for a few days without any food.  They took one look at Diane and Jack and licked their lips.  They hunched before the attack.  This is when we learned who the real superhero was.  Jack.  Later, the emergency vet would tell us that he protected Diane. 

Anyway, one of the pit bulls got Jack in his mouth and shook him like a rag doll.  By the time I made it outside, Jack lay on the grass and his fur was not attached.  He was like a peeled orange.  I instinctively took off my shirt, scooped him up, and (with one shoe) ran to a neighbor’s. 

He survived.

It was 3 ½ weeks of touch-and-go.  At one point, they had us transfer him (he was so pathetic and half-dead looking) to the most esteemed animal hospital in Los Angeles.  Amidst the effects of numerous medications and zillions of complications (including pneumonia), during the trip to the west side hospital, somehow Jack lifted his head to offer me a kiss.

That was the $10,000 lick.  At that point I realized that even if he didn’t make it, it was okay for us to have paid so much money and incur such debt.  I needed that last kiss from him.

He did make it. 

Since then, Jack has had congenital heart failure and a collapsed trachea.  Every six months he gets a thousand dollar echocardiogram.  He is currently on seven medications, totaling about $125/ month.

Our grand total?

So, Lady At The Vet’s Office with the (probably real) Designer Bag (how would I know?) Who Didn’t Want to Buy her Sick Cat Some Medicine Because of the two-figure “Cost,” you made a commitment to this creature—sorry.  The moment he/she became yours, you signed up for all of the costs that came with him/ her.  And, frankly?, $39 sort of seems like a bargain.

Signed,

In Debt