Money vs. Pets

I know people think it’s ridiculous to spend so much money saving a dog’s life. I mean, they’re only animals, right? (So are we.) And, given our financial state (if you can even call it a state anymore), I am fully aware of the cost.

But I’m also acutely aware of the fact that the same dog I feared I’d have to kill on Monday night is now on course for a (as far as I know right now; fingers crossed) full recovery. Having found a way to cover the costs for now*, it would be inhumane, to me, to kill an otherwise healthy dog. To my thinking, it would be inhumane no matter what. Had I not found a way to cover the costs with the help of Jeff’s medical fund (and the good people donating to it), I’d be heartbroken, guilt-ridden and . . . I don’t know. Bad things about myself. It would be hard.

I cried quite a bit over Jeff and Sam. Jeff’s illness hit me really hard, and, ultimately, unleashed more tears for Sam, too. I love and miss them both. Fortunately, Jeff will be coming home soon.

I guess the same people who can’t understand the lengths we’d go to for our animals are the same people I can’t understand for being unwilling to do so.

* * *

Early every morning, between three and five o’clock, either George or I will wake up. He usually wants to go downstairs to eat and go outside. Jeff sleeps downstairs on the couch most of the time. We call him “Downstairs Dog” sometimes. He’s the only dog out of our (now) three we can trust downstairs by himself — he won’t steal food from counters, make a mess or otherwise cause trouble. He just curls up on the couch and goes to sleep.

So, each morning, George and I go down to the dining room where the dog food and dog bowls reside. Upon hearing George’s bowl being filled, I’ll see Jeffrey out of the corner of my eye with his front paws on the ground and back paws on the couch stretching like a cat as he gets down to come request food.

The last few mornings, I’ve glanced over at the couch expecting to see him curled up there watching me with his knowing eyes sparkling in the dining room light.


*You can help!


Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.