The Cost of Loving an Animal Part 1: The Price of the Promise (#727)
There is a moment most pet owners remember.
You pick up the puppy. The kitten climbs into your lap. The shelter dog looks at you through the bars of the kennel.
And the decision is made.
This one is coming home with me.
It is an emotional decision, and perhaps it should be. Our relationships with animals are built on affection, companionship and trust.
But hidden inside that moment is something considerably less romantic.
A financial commitment.
A recent article in the New York TImes, The Unexpected Cost of Pet Care Has Young Adults Rethinking Their Finances, captured the issue in its subtitle:
Pet ownership among Gen Z has increased, but many young adults are unprepared for the veterinary bills that inevitably follow.
That word matters.
Inevitably.
Veterinary care isn't an optional extra associated with pet ownership. Every animal will require it.
The only uncertainties are when, how much, and for what.
The Purchase Price Is Just the Beginning
We tend to focus on what it costs to acquire an animal.
Perhaps the shelter adoption fee is a few hundred dollars.
Perhaps the purebred puppy costs $2,500.
Perhaps the kitten was free.
But there really is no such thing as a free kitten.
The acquisition price is merely the admission ticket.
What follows may be 10, 15 or even 20 years of food, vaccinations, parasite prevention, examinations, dental care, grooming, boarding, training, medications and veterinary treatment.
Most of those expenses are predictable. Others most certainly are not.
The Labrador swallows a sock. The Dachshund develops a herniated intervertebral disc. The cat develops a urinary obstruction on Sunday morning. The puppy fractures a leg. The middle-aged Golden Retriever develops cancer.
The elderly dog develops arthritis, heart disease and kidney disease, and requires medication, laboratory testing and repeated examinations for the remainder of its life.
Nobody brings home a puppy while imagining the 13-year-old dog it will become.
But that elderly dog is part of the deal.
We Have Changed What It Means to Own an Animal
Something else has happened during my lifetime in veterinary medicine.
Our relationship with companion animals has changed.
When I graduated as a veterinarian in 1975, people certainly loved their animals. That isn't new.
But the position of the animal within the family has changed enormously.
We increasingly hear the expression pet parent. A term that I tolerate, but do not encourage.
Dogs sleep on beds. They go on family vacations. They attend daycare. They have birthday celebrations. Their photographs appear on Christmas cards. People arrange their work schedules around them.
For many people, the dog or cat isn't simply an animal living in the household.
It is a member of the family.
I think much of that change has been wonderful.
Animals receive better nutrition, better preventive medicine, better pain management and greater consideration of their emotional well being than they once did.
But a change in emotional expectations inevitably produces a change in medical expectations.
If this animal is a member of my family, then surely I should provide the best possible medical care?
And that is where love begins to collide with economics.
What Does The Best Mean?
Veterinary medicine has undergone its own transformation.
The medicine available to today's dog or cat would have been almost unimaginable when I graduated.
CT. MRI. Sophisticated cancer therapy. Advanced neurosurgery. Joint replacement. Interventional cardiology. Dialysis. Intensive care. Radiation therapy. Specialist emergency hospitals operating around the clock.
We can diagnose and treat diseases that once would have meant little more than making an animal comfortable until it died.
That is extraordinary progress.
But extraordinary medicine comes with extraordinary costs.
And that produces a question veterinary medicine has perhaps not discussed sufficiently:
Does being a responsible pet owner mean agreeing to everything modern veterinary medicine can offer?
I don't believe it does.
When Money Becomes a Measure of Love
Imagine being told that your dog needs a procedure costing $8,000.
You have $1,000 available.
What does that say about how much you love your dog?
Nothing.
Yet that is not necessarily how it feels.
The owner may hear:
There is something that could save my dog, and I cannot afford it.
That can rapidly become:
I am failing my dog.
And finally:
If I really loved my dog, I would find the money.
That is an extraordinarily cruel equation.
Love ≠ expenditure.
The amount someone is able, or willing, to spend on veterinary treatment is not a reliable measure of the strength of the bond between that person and their animal.
People have mortgages. Rent. Children. College loans. Medical expenses. Elderly parents.
Retirement savings. And emergencies of their own.
An $8,000 veterinary bill is inconvenient for some families.
For others, it is impossible.
Responsible veterinary medicine must acknowledge that difference.
But Owners Have Responsibilities Too
There is another side to this argument.
It would be equally unreasonable to acquire an animal without considering whether one can afford its basic care.
Food costs money. Preventive medicine costs money. Veterinary examinations cost money.
And illness is not an unexpected aberration in a lifetime.
Eventually, animals get sick.
Perhaps we need to change the conversation that occurs before someone acquires a pet.
Instead of simply asking:
Can I afford this puppy?
we should ask:
Can I afford this dog?
Not this week. Not this year. For its lifetime.
That doesn't mean having $10,000 sitting permanently in a veterinary emergency account.
It does mean having a plan.
Savings? Pet insurance? Access to credit?
A realistic limit on what the household can spend?
And perhaps most importantly, some thought about what you would do if confronted with a major medical decision.
Those conversations are much easier when the animal is healthy.
The Insurance Question
Pet insurance is increasingly part of that discussion.
It can be enormously helpful, particularly when an unexpected accident or serious disease produces a large veterinary bill.
But insurance is not magic.
There are premiums, deductibles, exclusions, reimbursement percentages and restrictions involving pre-existing conditions.
Insurance does not make veterinary medicine inexpensive.
It distributes financial risk.
And, like most insurance, it works best when purchased before you need it.
Waiting until your dog develops cancer to investigate pet insurance is rather like looking for homeowners insurance while watching smoke come out of the roof.
A Lifetime Commitment
Perhaps shelters, breeders and veterinarians should talk more openly about this.
We spend considerable effort helping people choose the right breed, the right temperament and the right lifestyle match.
Perhaps financial preparedness belongs in that conversation too.
Not because pet ownership should become the privilege of the wealthy.
Quite the opposite.
We need models of veterinary care that allow people of different financial circumstances to care responsibly for animals.
But responsible ownership does require accepting that animals cost money.
And sometimes they cost a great deal of money.
The Price of the Promise
When we bring an animal into our lives, we make a promise.
We promise food. Shelter. Safety. Companionship. Medical care.
And ultimately, when the time comes, a humane death.
That promise does not require unlimited financial resources.
It does not require pursuing every treatment that medicine can provide.
And it certainly does not mean that the person who spends $20,000 loves an animal more than the person who cannot.
It means accepting responsibility for another living creature and thinking honestly, preferably before the crisis occurs, about what that responsibility entails.
The puppy may cost $2,500. The shelter dog may cost $300. The kitten may be free.
None of those numbers tells us what the animal will actually cost.
Because the real price isn't what we pay to bring an animal home.
It is the promise we make when we do.
Modern veterinary medicine can do things that would have seemed impossible a generation ago.
But sophisticated medicine, corporate consolidation, specialist hospitals, technology, staffing and changing expectations all have costs.
The harder question is not simply why veterinary bills have risen, but where the money actually goes.
Next
Part 2: Why Does Veterinary Care Cost So Much?
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