The Six Million Dollar Man’s Best Friend

In the six months since we adopted The Dog, she and I have come to enjoy a special bond. I give her tons of love and attention and in return she pretty much doesn’t care about anyone or anything in the world except me.

Our special bond was put to the test yesterday when her routine annual checkup resulted in a $700 veterinarian bill.

Well, it wasn’t exactly just a routine annual examination. That’s what I had in mind when I initially made the appointment, but I should know better by know.

She was also due for some of her vaccinations, which she received. A test turned up a hookworm egg, not exactly a huge surprise since she had problems with worms before we got her according to her records. That meant we got two kinds of antibiotics that we’ll be giving her for the next ten days.

An inconvenient tooth

The big ticket item, though, was the dental cleaning. I normally wouldn’t have done it, but Greyhounds are notoriously bad about having horrific dental problems – so much so that many suffer tooth loss and/or life-threatening infections. Plus, October is dental hygiene month at the clinic - 10% off all cleanings!

What I didn’t realize was that a comprehensive dental cleaning involved anesthesia, an IV, the application of some kind of space-age industrial sealant for her teeth and a batch of sealant booster kits to take home. She also had some holes in her gums that needed to be plugged and sealed. All in all, the dental portion of the bill came to about $500 (I guess it would have been $550 without the discount).

I dropped her off in the morning and was going to pick her up again after work. Since I never have any idea what form of payment I should be using for anything, The Wife called the vet’s office in the afternoon to get the total and give me my marching orders. Needless to say, when she heard $700 she pretty much stroked out. $700 is never a great number to have sprung on you unexpectedly.

Of course, what can you do? You can’t exactly tell the vet, “Uh… I don’t want her any more. You keep her.” All you can do is pay up, mutter under your breath and vow to never get any kind of medical treatment for your pet again.

But I know the next time something springs up, I’ll rush her to the vet clinic. She’s the only one who lays on the couch and watches baseball with me. We’re late night bathroom break buddies. And we both like to make fun of the people we see during our evening walks. (Well, I assume she does.)

Once again, our living room doubles as a recovery room

At least she had the good sense to act like they had given her $700 worth of care. She was pretty groggy in the evening and really couldn’t be bothered to lift her head or stay awake for more than twenty seconds at a time. Apparently, she took pretty good notes while The Wife was recuperating at home all last week. By this morning, though, she was back to her usual perky self.

Due to her sore gums and the medicine she’s taking, we have to give her canned food. This is quite the adventure because she normally only gets kibble and she hasn’t quite figured the mushy stuff out yet. A good deal of it has ended up on the floor or the wall. I never said she was smart.

I used to tell her she’s worthless. Now I can tell her she’s worth -$700.