Financial experts have told us that given the strength of the human-animal bond, the family dog and cat have a safety net, and while the responsible American would cut back on expenses such as vacations, second homes, and dining out, they would always find ways to pay for veterinary care. That is, until now. For the first time in my 22 years as a vet, I have seen huge breaches in this safety net.

The real-life consequences of our economic plight have hit animals hard. The relinquishment rate to animal shelters has skyrocketed, people living on fixed incomes can no longer afford dog and cat food, and animals are being abandoned in foreclosed homes that people were forced to leave. Veterinarians and their staffs have seen clients decline routine tests and procedures and even decide to euthanize their sick animal companions because of the inability to afford medical care.

A few months ago, I received a call at home from one of my staff doctors, who was working the emergency shift. “Barry, I’ve got this 3-year-old male cat who can’t urinate and is in poor condition.” This can be fatal if untreated. “His guardians can’t afford to fix him up. What do you want me to do?” I asked whether we had provided the clients with all the financial options, including Care Credit and payment plans … we had. I asked if the cat’s temperament was suitable for adoption … it was. I don’t remember any courses in vet school in which this scenario was presented to guide me, but based on my own experiences throughout the years, I used my best judgment.

As this cat should be able to live a normal life if we can relieve the urinary blockage and provide a suitable diet, I gave the OK to have his guardians relinquish the cat to our hospital. This raises difficult ethical issues. If I’m willing to pay for the care of this cat, should I also be willing to give him back to the guardians who were concerned enough to bring him in, or would it be better to try to find the cat a more suitable adoptee? Where should we draw the line?

The cat recovered and made my decision look wiser by head-butting all our nurses caring for him. About two weeks later, the original guardians arrived at the hospital without notice and inquired about how the cat was doing. They were able to pay 70 percent of the original estimate and told my receptionist how hard they had been working to find resources, and how they hoped their cat would still be alive. Time for another decision vet school had not prepared me for, although this one was much easier. We reunited cat and guardian, and a happy ending was reached for all.

One day later, the hospital called again. “BK, I’ve got a 6-year-old ranch dog who’s got a huge laceration over her shoulder after trying to jump the fence. Her guardians can’t afford the $500 to operate and repair it. What do you want me to do?” I was told the ranchers had many other dogs and saw her only as a working dog, so they couldn’t justify the cost to make her right. She was relinquished to our hospital, and we repaired the laceration. As if she knew what needed to happen, the dog made friends and endeared herself to our staff quickly. Turns out, one of my doctor’s relatives was looking for a dog, and the matchmaking process was begun. After a few days of visits, the ranch dog had a new home with a loving family, sans ranch.

Although the decisions I made were difficult, I believe that doing what we can to make a bad situation better helps to diminish some of the frustration that animal guardians and veterinary caretakers are feeling in today’s economy. It’s been painful to see guardians attempt to reconcile their attachment to their ill animal companion with difficult personal financial circumstances. I hope that education regarding preparation for the costs of medical care for animals and an improved economy will mean that, from now on, phone calls from my hospital on weekends will only be questions about internal medicine procedures.

Dr. Barry Kipperman is a columnist for People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA). To learn more about Dr. Kipperman, click here. For more information about PETA, call 757-622-7382 or email PETAPrime@peta.org.