While at the local vet clinic to check on a few SPCA kittens I dropped off, I overheard an older lady dealing with the vet. As of late, my wife and I have been fostering puppies and kittens, and just recently, we accepted positions on the SPCA board of directors. Very rewarding to say the least.
“You mean to tell me if I can’t pay for this blood work, I have to take my little dog home to die?” she said, crying.
She was an older lady, and obviously living on a fixed income. “My husband raised the dog from a pup”. Often he cussed at himself for not taking an already trained, older dog, but still he trained the little dog all by himself. He named his pup ‘Barak Obama’ because for some reason, every time the President’s name was spoken on the TV, the little dog came running.
I couldn’t help but interject. “Where is your husband now? Home waiting for the dog to come home?” I asked.
Crying, she told me her husband died last year, little dog at his side. “Barak needed a flea treatment, the vet recommended using Revolution. He had a reaction to the medication, now he takes seizures.” She said.
I spoke to the vet, and asked which essential blood work the dog had to have, and why. Turns out the blood work cost was $83 plus tax. They needed to do the blood work to determine the exact amount of medication to administer to the little dog. He would also need medication which would cost around $40 per month.
“I can manage to save enough for the meds each month, but I can’t afford $100 right now, or ever really” She said, breaking down.
When I realized we were both crying, I offered to pay for the blood work myself. “I am paying for the blood work.”
Of course she refused. “I don’t know you, you don’t have to do this” She said, graciously.
“If you don’t let me pay now, I will come in after you leave and pay for it. If this were my dad or mom, and one of their cats were sick and they couldn’t afford it, I would like someone to help them, so let me help you.” I told her, a shudder in my voice. I was crying.
After about fifteen minutes, she finally agreed. “I will pay you back” she said, but I refused. “My name is…” but before she could tell me her name, I cut her off. “I don’t need to know your name, and you don’t need to know mine, just give me a hug and call it a deal. I told her. She hugged me and sobbed.
As I walked out of the clinic, the vet brought her little dog out, and the two of them scheduled an appointment for the blood work.
Someone in my town won the lottery today, $4 million dollars. It wasn’t me, I never had any numbers right, but today was one of the most rewarding days I have had in quite a while. I hope everything goes well for the lady and her dog.