Vet Bills?

o honey hush....i had a cat..got him during gulf war 1....named him saddam who kitty...
at the end when i took him to the 5th vet and had records from the last 3...the vet was very gentle but firm ...my cat had a mass in his stomach...i had been bagging fluids for him...for months...he was to the point that he hated the stuff....the vet looked at the inches of vet files and reports and told me it was over. Sometimes you have to accept that we keep them alive long after nature would have let go.

Sorry about your cat. I love the name! :lol: Saddam Who Kitty.
 
and how far will you go to save your pet? one of my dobermans was thought to maybe have bone cancer, i researched it....before the test came back so I knew I would not do the treatment but let him go. (the treatment would have been total amputation of his hip and leg) giving him maybe 3 months to a year.

I have spent mad money on vet bills in the past. You can't take desperate measures for your own sake, it's only worth it if the pet will still have some prolonged quality of life.
 
he was a great cat...saddam who kitty .....as far as desperate measures...i wanted to go to that damned pet psychic...you talk about a fuss at home...i was willing to fly to ca with the cat....hubby finally lost it with me.
 
Bearing in mind that the averge life expectency of a feral cat is under a year, and keeping also in mind that the replacement cost of a cat is pretty much nothing, those of us who have invested so much into extending the lives our failing kitties --sometimes for years after their time -- are what, exactly?

Just plain old softies, let's face it.
 
My husband and I adopted a three-year-old Keeshond from the Humane Society. We named him Rembrandt. Beautiful, sweet animal who loves everyone: adults, children, babies, cats, other dogs, ferrets . . . Remy has never met a stranger.

A month after we got him, I came home and found a puddle of blood in my front hallway. I'm standing there, looking at it, wondering if the new dog ate one of the cats or something, and Remy walks in. He sneezes, and blood flies everywhere. I realize that his nose is bleeding profusely, and I can't get it to stop. I bundle him into the car - which he bleeds all over - and rush him to the doggie emergency room. The vet and her assistant are giving him shots, squirting stuff up his nose, all manner of things, and he's snuggling on them the whole time. Remy doesn't care HOW you pay attention to him, as long as you pay attention. By the time they decided to admit him to the hospital overnight, the exam room looked like a slaughterhouse. The bleeding just wouldn't stop. I'm pretty sure they expected to call me the next morning and tell me my dog was dead.

Turns out that his previous owners had brought him to the Humane Society covered in ticks. He had been dipped and was clean when I got him, but he had contracted tick fever and no one knew it. Tick fever damages the body's ability to clot, and weakens the walls of the blood vessels. One good nosebleed, and POOF! The dog exsanguinates.

The vet managed to stop the bleeding and save Rembrandt, who is now almost eight and still with us. The bill was huge, but we paid it gladly, thankful to know that we had such a skilled and resourceful vet on hand. They're also good enough to let us make payments if one of our pets is sick at a time when we're short on cash. Love those folks.
 

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