By Grace Acosta

I just paid a $300 veterinarian bill because Parker’s dewclaw got torn at the base, and we needed professional oversight and a solid dose of drugs - for the dog, not for me - to remove it. Parker also needed antibiotics and bandaging. His ears needed flushing. A growth on his gums needed removal and a biopsy. By the time the bill was settled, I had to remind myself that pet care can be expensive, but money isn’t everything. Parker is a constant, furry reminder of this all-important life lesson, a true gift to our family. In fact, in this respect, I guess you could call Parker the gift that just keeps on giving.

I might be exaggerating to say that over the last seven years, I’ve spent more on Parker’s medical bills than I have on my personal clothing budget, but it could be true when you actually add it all up. I’ve paid a bundle for services rendered on a variety of ailments: ear infections, foxtail removal, persistent limping, the dewclaw on the other leg, of course. I carried pet insurance for a while, but it was too persnickety to be of any real value. For example, it covered X-rays if your dog were hit by a car, or developed bone cancer, but didn’t cover them if arthritis or hip dysplasia were at issue. Foxtail removal was covered only if the foxtail were ingested orally. If your dog sniffed one up his nose, or if a foxtail burrowed down into your dog’s ear canal, you were obligated to pull out the checkbook, which I did, on more than one occasion.

I don’t object to the cost of Parker’s care in any meaningful way, but it does make me swallow hard, especially when I think about his being a descendant of the mighty wolf. Ripped-up nails must be pretty commonplace in the wild where one is actually chasing down and killing one’s food supply, but I don’t imagine a wolf treats his own dewclaw injuries with a magenta bandage and antibiotics covered in cream cheese. Parker seems so effete by comparison. He is on a lamb-free, wheat-free diet so his ears don’t itch and he doesn’t bloat. Every afternoon at 3 he braces himself by the dog cookie jar so that, upon arrival from school, my son can get him a biscuit. I turn on a little music for him when he’s home alone because he appears calmer upon our return when I do. He naps a lot.

I don’t know if Mother Nature intended for animals to live under the extreme care of humans who seem to need so much.

In nature, only the strong survive. In human nature, not only the strong but the dependent and adorable also do pretty well for themselves. Parker could never survive in the wild. He needs his cushion and his snacks. He needs someone to throw him a tennis ball. He needs to go for an occasional car ride with the family.

He needs love. He needs attention. And, for the next week or two, he definitely needs his antibiotics with cream cheese.