Results of a survey three or four years ago revealed Americans spent an average of $8,000 per year on each pet they own. That shocked me at the time. A quick calculation assured me I was well below that average, but it was still startling how much we actually spent on our nice little dog adopted from the Humane Society.
What did all that money go for?
I did more mental accounting: Over the years, we’ve nurtured cats, dogs, rats, tadpoles, and, for a short while, a horse. They brought tremendous value to our family.
My children learned how regular feeding, clean water, appropriate environment and daily exercise are essential to each animal’s well-being. Our pets offered us healthy exercise, and they’re wonderful comfort when we’re sick or depressed (OK, maybe not so much from the rats and tadpoles).
Pets teach us to communicate in another language. Pet owners learn empathy by looking at the world through another set of eyes. Pets teach us important lessons about grief when they inevitably die.
“Priceless” as these things are, my accounting revealed that they require significant expenditure.
When our kids were growing up, our family lived from paycheck to paycheck. We bought pet food and licenses and got the basic immunization for our animals, but it was up to them to stay healthy.
In the past decade or two, however, we’ve learned more about “responsible” pet ownership. We now buy higher-quality food and take our dog for annual vet checkups. She goes to the groomers three or four times a year and gets her teeth looked after. She travels in a special car restraint, and we leave her in a comfortable kennel rather than in the care of neighbors when we leave town.
While our family has prospered, our budget still doesn’t allow for a health crisis. Not for us, and certainly not for our pet.
Recently, you may have read about a local family’s heart-wrenching problem concerning their ailing dog. The vet told them surgery would cost thousands of dollars, much beyond their ability to pay. This is a scenario I’ve worried might happen to us.
This family attempted to fulfill their responsibility by soliciting donations and was criticized for doing so. How dare they ask for help for a mere dog when human neighbors are going hungry? Better to donate to “worthier” causes, some might say. And maybe they have a valid point.
In these hard times, many people are making difficult decisions between sustaining their pets and sustaining their human family members.
Losing a job can mean moving someplace that doesn’t allow pets. Having to give up a beloved part of the family adds injury to the initial insult. Is the heartbreak less because it’s “just” an animal?
I asked myself more hard questions: Am I committed to paying any amount to keep my dog Maya alive and healthy? Do I pledge to love her to the extent of thousands of dollars in vet bills? What will my neighbors think if I decide to put her down rather than pay for an expensive drug regimen? Will they call it “pet abuse?” If I draw a line at potential indebtedness — more than this much and Maya is out of luck — what does that mean about me?
Perhaps it means I shouldn’t be a pet owner at all.
I don’t like the conclusions I’m coming to. Looked at this way, pet ownership is a privilege only for the affluent.
I’ve listed the values of pet ownership. I do believe caring for an animal companion is a civilizing tradition. It promotes physical and psychological health.
Should children in low-income families be denied the experience? Should the elderly forego the companionship of a pet because their income is limited?
Peer pressure is good when it encourages kind treatment of “dumb” animals, but perhaps not so good when families feel cornered into incurring costly vet bills to prove how much they love their pets.
Perhaps it’s OK for people to have different opinions on what’s necessary and what’s optional care for their pets.
Refusing to put a pet on life-saving drugs, turning a pet over to the Humane Society, or even resorting to euthanasia are not thoughtless or heartless decisions. They are realistic options that pet owners must be courageous enough to take sometimes.
For me, this isn’t a satisfying conclusion. The sad fact is, I’ll think long and hard before committing to love and care for another animal companion.
Seems there are fewer and fewer easy decisions these days.
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