The Pampered Pet Racket

Today I took my 15-year-old Maine Coon cat to the vet for his annual "senior preventive care exam." He hates going to the vet, and to prove his point he peed in his pet carrier on the drive over. I got to clean it while the vet prodded and pushed on his belly, looked into his ears, checked his teeth and weighed him. All of that took about two minutes and cost $81. Then a vet technician trimmed his claws in about one minute, for $25. 

It was strongly suggested that we do "senior blood work." I said no thanks, not because of the cost ($125) but because blood needed to be drawn from the jugular vein in Lurch's neck and he already appeared on the verge of a total nervous breakdown -- staring into space, eyes glazed over, tongue sticking out and barely breathing.  

The vet convinced me to purchase a package of "Advanced Feline Chews" to help Lurch with his mobility since he has arthritis. I asked if cats like them, as Lurch is very picky. She said her cat once ate the whole package when nobody was looking so she guessed they were pretty tasty. Those cost $22.  

Another option suggested was a once-a-month injection of something to alleviate Lurch's arthritis by making his joints more "elastic." That would cost about $130 per shot, and we'd have to go to the vet's office for it. I decided that if I embarked on that plan you would soon be hearing about a double-suicide in the news: me and Lurch. I passed.

When we got home I fed Lurch as a reward for not clawing my eyes out and put a few of those treats in with his food. He carefully ate around them and there they sit on the otherwise empty dish. At that price I may eat them myself; I have a touch of arthritis too.