Admit It: Your Pet Is Making You Broke.
In my home state of Oregon, we ranked as the 4th highest state in the country in terms of pet ownership in 2013. Namely, we’re cat fans. Forty percent of all households in the state own a cat. After all the apartments I’ve visited with multiple cat trees and lint rollers, it’s totally believable. Vermont and Maine are the only two states with more cat owners—and they’re just a claw length ahead.
Animals are great. But they also cost us. I’ve known several friends that have bought pets only to “rehome” them (i.e. give them up) less than six months later purely because of cost. One friend literally had to decide between feeding herself or her cats. There are dozens of hidden costs to owning a pet; Pet Education lists 26 pet-related budget line items you’ll be spending money on, from car restraints to stain cleaner. The Bureau of Labor Statistics reports that we spend more on our pets than we do on books or alcohol. If you owned a dog in 2012, the American Veterinary Medical Association reminds us, you probably spent over $200 at the vet that year alone.
But the numbers just don’t seem to faze most pet owners—either that, or people don’t consider the costs of long-term pet ownership. We are willfully ignorant out of love. It’s all worth it for Fido! I can’t imagine anything happening to him.
Right. I could say the same thing about my savings account.
Why is it so taboo to talk about pets honestly in terms of what they cost us in dollars and cents? The examples are few and far between. I still remember the episode of The Bill Engvall Show where the parents had an open and honest discussion about whether to invest in medical treatment for their dog or go on their dream vacation. They chose the dog. But the decision felt earned, not just impulsively chosen as “the right thing to do.” Last month, The Billfold’s own Yoni Blumberg wrote an excellent article about the decision on whether or not to invest in his dog’s cancer treatment.
Now, I get that some pets have special needs. Fair play to everyone who adopts a pet already knowing that they’re going to require extra time and investment. Full disclosure: I’m looking to adopt an English Bulldog, a breed of dog that is all but extinct. When I get that puppy, it’s going to cost me a lot of money to keep it healthy. But I want a dog of that breed because they’re sweet tempered and easy to predict. I also want to do my part to encourage cross-breeding and awareness about the breed’s issues.
I know it’s cold, but this needs to be said: Your pet is just an animal. If it doesn’t help you navigate the street, remember your insulin or breathe normally during an incredibly stressful time, it’s just an animal. An animal that lives in your house and costs you time and money.
If you love your pet, that’s grand. Love it and cherish it like a member of your family. I’m not saying that we as humans should stop raising animals because it costs us money. But ask yourself this: Can you describe exactly what unique benefits you receive by owning your pet?
Seriously, think about it. What specific benefits in your life do you receive from owning your cat? How does your dog visibly improve your life? Can you put into words what makes you so happy about coming home to your hamster? As compared to, say, a really nice human roommate?
No, a wet nose at the end of the day doesn’t count. Nor does fluffy fur or a warm belly. Write out sentences like, “Walking my dog forces me to go outside more, which gives me more confidence in social situations.” That’s something that has nothing to do with how cute your dog is.
Here’s a few more examples:
“Being able to step up to the responsibility of taking care of Squiggie gives me more confidence in my ability to manage my life.”
“Having the fish in my apartment makes me feel more settled in my home, which motivates me to keep it clean and improves my overall quality of life.”
“Spot teaches my son how to be more compassionate to animals and have self-confidence around creatures and people bigger than he is.”
We owe it to our pets to treat them as investments, and analyze exactly what drives us to take care of them. To not do so is to willingly acknowledge that we have no idea what we’re doing. It’s acknowledging that we’re raising living beings just because we want them to exist in our lives. We may as well be buying stuffed animals that can bark. Our pets deserve better than that.
