March 23rd, 20108 comments Posted in Wapatui
Last week when Dan found out how much my husband and I were about to pay to get our dog’s broken leg fixed and to keep said dog comfortable and hospitalized until she could have the required surgery, he geeked his cigar smoke inhale and might just be coughing and wheezing still. Then he suggested that a single bullet would be a lot less expensive and we’d still have a bunch of cash left over to buy a goldfish at Wal-Mart.
And Dan’s a dog person!
So at what point does a pet owner say, “Too rich for my blood” and cash in the pet’s chips? I can only answer this question in terms of dogs…maybe cats, but it would have to be a seriously awesome cat – no shedding and scratching and sleeping on my head. Fish and rodents and reptiles? One of those gets a hangnail and I’d have very little trouble sending it off to enjoy a big dirt nap.
I would not spend so much money that my children had to sacrifice something essential. I would not spend money that I didn’t readily have if there was only a small chance that the treatment would be successful. I would not spend money I didn’t readily have if if I were only prolonging the dog’s life for my own happiness and comfort, rather than the dog’s. Otherwise…I’m paying. I can’t imagine pulling the plug on a pet, a pet who loves and trust and needs me, for any reason other than a humane one. If I wasn’t willing to incur the expense and hardship of dog ownership, whatever that brings – broken bones and complicated surgery including pins and plates included – then I shouldn’t have brought the dog into my home in the first place.
…but Dan thinks…
And then she said something about writing a post about universal healthcare for pets.
And then I said “You know what? You go ahead and write that post. Here’s my take on the issue: you can get a brand new dog, with that new dog smell, all legs intact and functioning, for about sixty bucks.” Or put another way, for the same money Jane’s about to spend, she could get SEVENTY new dogs.
I know. They’re a part of the family. And the childless couples are all certain that the dog thinks it’s a person (here’s a news flash: if the dog DID think it was a person, she’d feel at least a little bit guilty about not chipping in for mortgage payments and grocery expenses, and wouldn’t piss on the floor (unless she was watching an NFL playoff game and got really drunk and forgot what a toilet looked like (Mike? Lookin’ at you, my friend))).
I love my dogs. They’re awesome. I’m not sure they’re $4,000 worth of awesome, though.