May 16, 2011
You’ve all been quite patient about the travel photos but I think you can hang on just a few more days whilst they get organized, right? Especially since I’m much more excited about this news? Some of you already know, but we’ve decided to adopt. I was going to hold out, really, I was. We were just looking. And planning, and budgeting.
But that fine fellow from my previous post was adopted out from under our noses before we even had a chance to see him and the realization that if we were going to get a companion befitting our very specific profile dawned – we do have cash on hand if luck forfend, anything should happen, but we could also be looking for a very long time otherwise should we keep waiting for the perfect time. In fact, we could well just be waiting into next year and frankly, my stress levels are through the frakking roof. We both, scientifically speaking, do much better with dogs in our lives. [Please don’t ask for my datasets, they’re not currently organized.]
So we went to meet someone on Saturday, our game plan set: we’d meet him and regroup to discuss. We were not bringing anyone home on Saturday.
Except …..
…..
…..
I did leave behind a fat check for a non-profit breed rescue that’s been caring for this adult fella for the past year so that we can pick him up next week.
Technically speaking, we didn’t break the rules.
We’re both thrilled to bits! He’s awfully sweet, quiet as anything so far, inside and out, just a lovebug from the get-go and loves attention but isn’t pushy about it. If you stop petting him, he’ll wait with hope in his eyes but he won’t shove you about for more even if he’s big enough to. He does gentle nose bumps. I sat on the floor to examine him, head to toe, and he let me do it without protest even though I was a complete stranger picking up his paws, checking his ears, probing his ribs.
I’m grateful to the rescue for their work in keeping him safe and healthy and can’t wait to bring him home next week.
So far, the cost has been $250 for his release, and he’ll come to us with a collar, microchipped, current on his vaccines and preventative medications, neutered, and a full medical history. We will need to buy:
1. A bed,
2. 2 leashes (he doesn’t chew but I always keep a backup and he’s still learning leash manners so we may use 2 in tandem),
3. a secondary collar for training,
4. food,
6. food and water bowls
7. Shampoo
And schedule:
1. Vet appt
2. Licensing
3. Grooming (1st visit will be necessary, I’ll do all his grooming thereafter)
We’ll be getting an unused crate from family and I already have the
Furminator which is a must for this guy’s coat. We priced out the list above and I’m aiming to keep it below $100 for the purchases since we also have to pay for licensing and the vet. And then! The puppy fund for the dog begins in earnest. I have a
ton of budgeting to manage, these days. But having a dog to hug at the end of the day, every day? *happy sigh*
May 15, 2011
There’s so much going on these days to share, that the dearth of posting, in part thanks to Blogger’s downtime at exactly the wrong time, has naught to do with having nothing to say. Though, I’m hearing that blog posts and comments from mid-week were deleted so I suppose it’s a good thing I hadn’t posted anything close to that time – I’d be furious about losing those!
Where to start?
Work.
Thailand.
Dog.
Wedding.
(You’ll note that the wedding falls to the bottom of the list. That is representative of something.)
But I have been writing, organizing and doing and you shall soon enjoy the fruits of my labor.
Budget: Traditionally, my family expects you to spend between $20-30K on a wedding for a standard 300-400 guests (“they pay for themselves” etc). “Thank goodness for formulas” except PiC and I are going off the grid, particularly because “standard Asian traditional” for me would have gone right through the roof to 400 on my side alone. So we’re starting from scratch too.
I love regular budgeting but …. I don’t love wedding budgeting. Maybe it’s because I’m cranky about the mark-up on everything just because it’s a wedding?
No matter how awesome you are at negotiating, it eventually becomes a zero-sum game. You can either have it, make it, or do without if you’re going to hit your budget. Unless someone donates it. So again, somehow, it feels a lot less fun than regular budgeting even though it is exactly the same principle.
Vision: I haven’t got a vision. Or a theme. Or colors. For the love of smooshy, stop asking about colors, please?
Eemusings is also engaged but her take is a bit closer to my attitude of “Not ready to plan yet” despite my probably most-pending-nuptials of the three of us. I could use a real kick in the pants to get moving on making things happen because between now and the projected “Hey, can we do this?” date of early November – we have major work events (June), travel (July), more travel for work (undetermined), weddings to attend (June), work (August), other people’s weddings (September) …
Yeek! Who has time to plan a wedding? Or go to one?
Is it just me or do the years book up really fast? Is anyone else feeling a bit overwhelmed by their schedule and wanting to opt out? (Funny about Money, you come to mind.)
March 13, 2011
From whence the money comes, I have not yet planned but I still have some time yet.
Purely by chance, as if my fingers had life of their own, I accidentally found the perfect sounding dog to rescue.
This is well ahead of schedule. We were not planning on bringing a dog home for a long while since we still wanted to travel a while longer, definitely have travel plans through summer this year, and have this little wedding deal to put together.
But I’ve been stressed. I realize that taking on another responsibility in response to stress doesn’t seem very smart. But dogs are my respite. And I don’t have a dog to even mentally hug anymore. This year without a dog is the longest I’ve been dog-free since the age of seven. None of my de-stressing techniques are taking. It’s basically torturous so I browse PetFinder once in a while and dream. Then I found this guy and just went all REO Speedwagon.
His profile is so perfect! Our potential adoptee is a cross of three large breeds, older, mellow enough to be an indoor dog for the better part of a day (his foster mommy attests to this), energetic enough to romp with other dogs and go for runs, good in cars, good with strange dogs and mellow with strange people and veterinarians and groomers (important since my previous dogs either uniformly failed that test or embarrassed me at least a little.)
PiC was disinclined to say me nay after reading the profile and looking at the picture. (And believe me, he’s exercised veto plenty.) We wrote to his foster mom to inquire about availability that very night.
The rescue agency is quite concerned about the futures of these dogs who are adopted out, rightfully so since some of these poor dogs are thrown back into the system when people who weren’t ready to bring home dogs move on with their lives, or meet with unfortunate circumstances.
++++++++++++++++
Some of the adoption form questions:
What provisions would be made for the dog if you had to move locally?/ Out of state?/ To a place where no pets are allowed?
Under what circumstances would you not keep the dog? Divorce/ Illness in family/ Moving/ New baby/ New job/ Allergy/ Housetraining problems/ Chewing/ Digging/ Shedding/ Barking/ Howling/ Dog grew too big/ Dog became ill/ Kids ignore/ Pets didn’t get along/ Not obedient enough/Other/Would not give up for any of the above reasons.
What would you do with the dog if you could not keep him or her? Return to rescue/ Take to shelter/ Give away/ Sell the dog/ Other
For the record, none of the options given above are good enough for either PiC or I to give up a pet we chose to bring home. We obviously aren’t allergic and we’d know to expect some shedding. Growth isn’t a problem with an older dog, and any behavioral problems would call for training and treatment, not disposal. Once we become responsible for a pet, unless it’s a situation where either the pet or a family member is endangered, that’s the end of the story.
++++++++++++++++
We’re not ready to adopt him until after we return from our trip, but even if it turns out he’s not a good fit with us, we need to have money in the bank to take him of him, or her, if this fella doesn’t work out and we’re back on the hunt again.
Ideally, I had intended to have $5,000 in the bank for any medical exams, supplies or emergencies but mostly because that’s a nice big round number. Realistically, none of my dogs have ever needed that much as a starter. Even the one with the crushed leg (we adopted him after the leg crushing and subsequent abandonment) didn’t cost that much. PiC and I need to talk about how to budget, but we’re going to schedule a meet-up with Foster Mom in the meantime and see if he’s really a match for us in the meantime.
Even better, we have a fellow blogger friend willing to swap dog-sitting which was a huge relief as that was one of my concerns about bringing home a dog when I don’t have a strong social network in the area. If I have any other volunteers .. 😉
Cross your fingers!
January 17, 2011
A memorial photo would be appropriate, but as is fitting of my darling pup who always dodged out of frame at the very last second, I don’t have a good one but many of her blurry bushy tail.
Last night, I had to make a decision.
I’m the pragmatist and the animal caretaker in the family so I always knew that it would be on my shoulders to make that call because my family would never have the heart to do it but I also never dreamt that I wouldn’t be in the room when it happened.
My puppy, my sixteen year old, last of my childhood pack, was in her end days, crying in pain and in a bad way. She’d been doing ok up until yesterday, struggling a bit to get around as her hips have always been a touch weak. Old age has been taking, one by one, her knees, her hips, her agility, and yet, she’s kept most of that sparkle in her eye and the verve in her “I’m getting away with something” sneaking into the house whenever I’d let her. At least until my last visit.
For 16 years, she’s been the first to scent my homecoming, the first to alert to my footstep, the last to settle down after I’ve departed. This last visit, with all the change it portended, also brought with it a heaviness to my heart as I saw the sure signs she wasn’t going to be with us much longer. It wasn’t just the inevitable frailness that melts away a dog’s frame, nor the weakness of gait. It was her resigned turn of head that was not accompanied by the determined push to get up and come to me … she’s never in her life not come to me.
And last night, I couldn’t go to her. But she needed me to make the arrangements from afar, to make the calls to friends who know animals, know animal medicine, and to send her to people who could tell me whether there was anything we could do to help her or whether the only help we could now, should now, render was the last kindness of easing her suffering.
In that moment, in the moment of holding a phone and not her head, or her paw, and making this decision, I felt like a murderer, not her mother. I never imagined that I could do this and even in that moment on the phone, I felt like screaming denial, no, no, no, don’t, send her home, I’ll come get her. But I could hear her moaning softly in the background, over the phone. I desperately wanted to be there for her but to say, wait 8 more hours for me to drive down, hang on through your pain, your dehydration, your discomfort and wait for me… I just couldn’t do that either. She deserved far better from us.
********
She was a fantastic, incredibly loyal, smart and feisty pup.
She always knew our oldest dogs resented her and while she respected their alpha status to a certain degree, she loved to tease and push them around. When she got much older, there was a game she’d play with the chihuahua. Say rather, a game she’d do to the chihuahua. He would chivvy her off bed, off blanket, off mat, to the cold floor. She’d oblige for hours. Then when he’d turn his back, she’d gather up his pillows and blankets under her front legs, roosting on them like a chicken, half shutting her eyes, and lolling her tongue as she always did Odie-style, wait for him to get angry. Oh and angry he would get! He’d stand there and growl, snarl and scold like an angry hen. Peck peck peck at her face, stand up on her shoulder and snip at her ears as she flicked them to and fro. You could hear her giggling. Outweighing him by a factor of ten and not in the least bit threatened, she loved how worked up he would get. Her tail wagged like pistons the longer this went on. Finally, like a child, he’d finally give up and find one of us to tattle to. He’d run over, whine, look in her direction, bark, look at us, whine again, bark at her. And true to my family’s Asian parenting style, my dad would say, “I told you not to pick on her when she was little. Now she’s grown up and getting you back.” She’d grin ever wider, stretch her back legs and grip his pillow even tighter.
She was a softy, a little surprising when mixed with a breed you’re warned is unpredictable, but she was protective. The moment someone, people or animals, presented a clear threat to her people, she made it quite clear that was not ok. I had to warn girls especially, if they were walking with her for the first time, to talk to her. She worried about her new people so if strangers stopped and startled say, my cousin, she was on alert.
When I learned to drive, she figured out that she should sit and wait for me to leave without running after the car; when rabbits dug into the yard she didn’t care too much but when they started picking on the chihuahua, well, they learned what other people did about giving my girlfriends wedgies: don’t.
When we had another dog come into our home, she didn’t pass along the poor welcome that she might have picked up from the grumpier older dogs gone ahead. She quietly accepted his presence, though for her safety in her age and his immense size and youth we made it clear he was beta and she was alpha. Though she enjoyed stealing his couch cushion occasionally, they were a joy to watch when they did their weird kissy face routines or curled up next to each other, heads on each other’s backs and generally enjoying companionship. She did, however, retain the irritating habit of meticulously shredding paper towels that the chihuahua taught her and picking holes in every dog bed I ever bought her. I still have no idea what that was about.
R.I.P., puppy dog. You are sorely missed.
December 12, 2010
Frugal Scholar’s rather pragmatic look at Pet Costs triggered my usual, utterly emotional, I want a dog now! reaction.
I really miss my dog back home. I haven’t talked myself into bring her up north because there’s just no room for her to lounge. She is, after all, accustomed to a certain way of life. And let’s face it, momma’s girl or not, if momma isn’t home, what’s the point of making her live in a relatively cramped inside space?
She’s really not built for living indoors – she gets squirrelly and waits by the door to be let out with ever increasing impatience whenever she’s done visiting inside. Even though she was raised as an indoor dog, she up and decided quite early on that she was moving into the garage. Up here we’ve got zero yard, and very little outdoor space. It’s hard to imagine her being happy with us in the Bay Area.
In an entirely selfish and practical sense, if we weren’t just thinking about what might make her happy, it still seems like the most sensible thing to do is to bring her up here rather than adding to the family. And that would have the additional benefit of easing my little-spoken-of responsibility of finding my parents a new home as they couldn’t really have moved in to any sort of assisted care facility with a big dog (or two, since idiot sibling is still around with his dog).
That’s another thing for another day.
The thing is, after owning dogs for 17 years now and having worked with animals for a good part of my twenties, it’s a cold fact that they’re expensive when anything happens. And I never want to be in the position of asking myself: can I afford this medical procedure? Those decisions should be made based on whether it’s right for my pet, not whether it’ll put us in a poorhouse. So while it’s enough that I maintain a medical fund for her now, if I ever wanted to adopt another dog, I would seriously consider getting a second job in animal health care for the discount because it’s so freaking expensive.
That or I honestly need to be making quite a lot more money than I do now to afford another pet.
When did I turn into my parents? I’m almost positive they used this line of reasoning with me when I was seven and it all sounded like gibberish and insanity twenty years ago.
February 11, 2010
In a previous post, Pets and money: where do you draw the line?, we talked about a situation where a family had to choose between necessities and a pet’s health. The woman literally didn’t know how she was going to feed her kids, but with an unemployed husband, she still brought home a sick puppy.
I’m an animal lover, as my “retirement plan” clearly indicates, but I’m also a very practical person as my blog shows. At no point would I ever want to be faced with an either/or situation when it comes to the health of my family, including the furry, wet-nosed and four-footed members.
Knowing what I do about the costs of health care for animals, I could not, in good conscience, take on any more pets without a solid pet fund. Saying that aloud makes me feel like a Murphy’s target was just painted on my back.
I recommend being proactive: get an emergency kit and fund put together. You never know when an incident may strike and if it’s minor, a kit could save you an expensive visit to the vet’s office.
Lemons and the case for an animal emergency kit
So many people think: “it couldn’t happen to me. My pet is calm, quiet, and well-behaved, he/she/it wouldn’t ever need emergency anything.” Once in a while, that’s true. Some pets can go his/her/its entire life without needing more than routine maintenance. It’s a rarity, though.
I’m a mutt-lover. Each of my three dogs were a variation on a Mutt, and only one of them developed truly life-threatening health problems later in life. I was lucky enough to be working at a clinic at the time and he received top-notch care at a discount, but there were times I knew that, as a regular client, I would have been forced to make a final decision based on cost. Even with a 75% discount, I spent more than $3,000 on him on an $18,000 salary. My other two live(d) unnaturally long lives – the chihuahua lasted about 18 years, the large breed mix is still hobbling along at 15 years of age. We probably only have a few, if that many, years left together.
Some people believe in the power of the purebred. They think that good bloodlines are security, a bit of insurance against the run of the mill illnesses that plague mixed breeds, mutts, and scruffy rescues. To some degree, they’re right. They’re very unlikely to get a Parvo Pup from a reputable breeder – though there aren’t any such guarantees if you’re dealing with a disreputable breeder or even worse, a puppy mill.
But the thing purebreds have going for (or against) them is the predictability of their breeds. Labs have hip dysplasia, Dachshunds and other long, low-riders have spinal problems, Great Danes have gastric torsion, white Boxers are highly prone to cancer and lots of it. None of these mean that every purebred’s fate is set in stone, it just means they’re highly prone to specific illnesses.
What you don’t get in that list of “what they’re prone to” is the list of “what else could happen.”
GB: the cautionary tale
My dear friends bought a very Marleyesque dog, we’ll call him GB for the Good Boy he really tries to be. The cost of just bringing GB home was several hundred dollars, a cost that my pound/rescue supporting self will withhold comment on. They spent hundreds on puppy obedience training, a crate, beds, pens, and all the other conveniences.
The trouble started when GB got home. He was so excited and happy that he had to explore everything and everywhere, and everywhere bought him a big swollen bite on the face. It could have been a spider or insect bite, either way, he looked like one of those hugely magnified Hallmark cards. Off to the vet! Hundreds of dollars and a few shots later, his swelling went down and he worked up a rash instead.
For two weeks he was on antibiotics to treat the rash, infected because GB wouldn’t stop scratching at it, and then his immune system went haywire. He’d never had reactions to his vaccines before but after the bite, he was highly allergic to the vaccines and his vet decreed No More.
Life settled down a bit. I was asked for advice on some suspicious looking pink fleshy scabby things on his face, it seemed to be ok. For any other dog. Knowing GB, I sent them back to the vet anyway and sure enough, more meds. Surprisingly, GB was still in the neighborhood of sub $10,000 at this juncture but he’s nothing if not high-achieving.
A few months later, he couldn’t keep anything down. I didn’t hear about it for about a day, but as they became concerned, my phone started to ring. “Something to do with GB? Yes, take him to the vet.”
X-rays revealed that in his love of turf, he’d scarfed a tiny bit of netting with the grass and it had gotten caught somewhere on the way down to form a little net. Like a sieve, this one inch piece of netting cupped and blocked his intestinal tract, only allowing liquid to pass through. Three cups of dog foods a day came right back up. Two surgeries, another $10,000 later, and GB was sent home with orders to gain 20 pounds during recovery.
He’s had other incidents, like chronic ear infections for his love of swimming with his head underwater, but I’m just grateful he made it through his first year.
He’s a big ticket dog, for which a dog/pet health fund would be highly recommended as part of your arsenal as a pet owner. Pet insurance is always a consideration but it can be hit or miss. I think the decision whether or not to carry pet insurance depends on your cash flow, earning and saving power, and the extent and quality of the coverage offered.
On the more prosaic front, GB managed to injure himself again over the holidays, again sending his parents screaming for my help. Luckily, it was one of the easiest things in his medical history to deal with: a broken dewclaw. The dewclaw on a dog is that thumb-like nail that actually doesn’t serve a purpose but to get broken, chewed on, or hung up on things. The canine’s external appendix, if you will.
For that, I just needed a pair of dog nail clippers, gauze, medical tape and some powder to stop up the bleeding. After clipping off the shattered nail, I wrapped him up and sent him, fat-pawed and resentful, on his way. An emergency visit for that would have cost them at least $100 for the late night visit and then a bit more for simple treatment.
I’d recommend having a Pet Kit on hand for some of the more routine things that your pet could require. My own held the following:
1. Nail clippers. Not the ones that look/act like a guillotine, my dogs hated those. The ones that were more like scissors. They’re easier to control and less uncomfortable for the pet. These are good for basic maintenance, and for situations like GB’s.
2. Cotton balls, long Qtips, and gauze. Pets get into stuff, getting scratches, scrapes and all over in dirt, grass and blood. They’re kind of like kids that way. It’s easier to assess the situation when they’re cleaned up. Long Q-tips are great for keeping ears clean, especially if you’ve got a chronic ear infection on legs. (We did.) Water dogs should also have cotton stuffed in their ears to help protect them from ear infections as well – be sure to check with your vet before you do anything like that, though!
3. Medical tape or wrap that sticks to itself. I used Vetwrap which is like a hybrid between Saran Wrap and medical tape.
4. Towels/rags: Always useful after baths, wrapping up the bedraggled, and containing messes (ahem, vomit).
$$$$
As far as a pet fund goes, I’d be most comfortable with having at least $1,000 per pet assuming I’m still maintaining an outsized amount of cash on hand. If not, I’d like to have closer to $5,000 squirreled away per pet. They can borrow from one another but I don’t like to take for granted that they’ll take turns being sick or injured.
Disclaimer: I’m not a veterinarian- I cannot diagnose your pets. When in doubt, please see your vet.
January 22, 2010
A friend and I were catching up the other day, when the subject of work came up. She works in an animal clinic, and she told me about this sad case they recently saw where a woman brought in her new puppy for an exam.
This wasn’t a typical puppy wellness exam that comes with adopting an animal from the local shelter, or just because the pup was new. The poor puppy had contracted canine parvovirus, commonly referred to as Parvo or abbreviated as CPV. Parvo’s a pretty miserable disease, and left untreated, especially in young dogs, can be fatal. It basically causes the gastroinstestinal problems (sorry to the squeamish!) of vomiting and diarrhea which leads to dehydration and of course, it doesn’t take long for that to take out a young’un. So it’s a serious matter when you bring a Parvo pup in for treatment, they have to be on fluids and medications, sometimes for weeks, until the virus clears out. Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t. The only guarantee is that it’s a lengthy and usually expensive process unless someone foots the bill for you.
Your choices are limited: treat at the hospital and hope for the best, treat at home and hope for the best (while bleaching everything that comes into contact with the puppy), or decide to euthanize.
Confronted with this diagnosis, the woman didn’t know what to do. This is a common response.
“I don’t have a job, my husband just lost his job, and I don’t know how I’m going to feed my (2) kids,” she wailed. This is, unfortunately, a far more common response than it should be.
I have the biggest soft spot in the world for animals and have worked to pay the vet bills since I was 17, paying hand over fist for medical treatments for my dogs on occasion, but I have never put them before my family’s wellbeing, either.
On the one hand, I wanted to shake the woman, reach right through my friend’s narrative and give her a good shake: what were you doing bringing home another mouth to feed when neither breadwinner has income and you can’t feed your own children?!??
On the other hand, the damage is done and I fully believe “You are responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.” (Antoine de Saint-Exupery) That part of me wants to say: you find a way. You will buckle down and you find a way. I know that unemployment, especially now, is really not a choice, but picking up the responsibility of a domesticated animal that now relies on you, literally for its life, is your choice. And once you’ve made it, you’d better find a way to fulfill your responsibilities.
A lot of people choose to go into debt using Care Credit which Miss M has written about before, a lot of people use regular credit cards, and a few of them will give the pet a fighting chance at home. On occasion, some will opt to euthanize the pet.
What would you do?
