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Operation for a Dog

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BradK

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OK OK,

I have a problem. And I am sure it will be a piece of p!ss for the skilled moral tradesman on this site.

I have been told that my beloved dog needs an operation. It is 3 years old, and its knee cap has popped out. The operation will cost $1000.

The wife has been in tears at the suggestion we have the poor thing put down. We are leaving for England at the end of the year, and I can just not justify the expense. Despite the howls of 'dog murderer'

How much would people on this forum pay for an operation?

Cheers
Brad
 
Brad, I am so sorry to hear about your dog. I'm probably not the best person to respond to you because I'm an absolute dog lover.

The dog is only three years old and presumably otherwise healthy.
$1000 is very reasonable for that sort of procedure.

Please don't have the dog put down unless there is some other reason, i.e. it has been aggressive with people etc.

Your going away later in the year should have nothing to do with it. What were you going to do with the dog at that stage anyway?

I understand that people have different attitudes to animals, but I just don't understand why anyone would get a dog which offers you so much and expects so little in return if you are not prepared to look after it completely.
If the money is really a problem then I will lend you the money interest free.
 
Wow Julia you must really love dogs. Good on ya.

$1000 for an operation is actually pretty cheap when it comes to a dog. I'd get the op done as well, especially since the dog is only a 3yo. I'd pay that for an op on my 5yo staffy no worries, definately wouldn't put him down for something like that.

Good luck with whatever decision you make.
 
BradK said:
OK OK,

I have a problem. And I am sure it will be a piece of p!ss for the skilled moral tradesman on this site.

I have been told that my beloved dog needs an operation. It is 3 years old, and its knee cap has popped out. The operation will cost $1000.

The wife has been in tears at the suggestion we have the poor thing put down. We are leaving for England at the end of the year, and I can just not justify the expense. Despite the howls of 'dog murderer'

How much would people on this forum pay for an operation?

Cheers
Brad
Click to expand...

I'd probably bankrupt myself getting my little fella back up and running if that's what was required(provided he wasn't going to be in pain for the rest of his life).

But then again, I like animals alot more than people.
 
A dog is for life IMO. Change the word "dog" for the word "child" and re-read the original question. That should answer it pretty easily. :2twocents
 
Hi Brad,
This topic tugged at my heart strings a wee bit.I won't comment on your particular circumstance with your dog, just add my endorsement of Julia's response. Pets in general should be valued much the same as we would our kids.
They are a commitment/responsiblity....but they have the potential to bring us so much joy and love. I had a deep connection with a border collie. Unfortunately, due to life changing circumstance, I had to give her up.It was, after all, best for her. She is dead now, but lived a thrilling life to the ripe old age of 13. I will always miss her.
Please consider your decision about the operation carefully.Bouqets for you Julia!.. A generous offer to loan the money.

And finally..I just had to post this gem about a very valuable and corageous dog....I love it! Maybe I am a bit biased toward Collies......

Cheers Y'all:)


The Loneliness of Rose

What happens when a dog works too much.
By Jon Katz

The phone rang a bit before midnight. The caller was a farmer from North Hebron, who said calmly that he had a "bit of a problem. I've got goats, sheep, and cows out of the fence and onto Route 31. One of the goats has been hit by a car. I need to get the animals back in. My fence is broke in two places, at least, and I want to get them off the road. I hear you got a working dog there. I'll pay for your time."



I had Rose, a 34-pound, 2-year-old border collie. Rose was supremely confident and experienced around sheep. They flocked together when she appeared. But she had never herded goats and cattle, especially in the middle of the night in a strange place on a busy road. One kick from a dairy cow would pulverize her, and goats were notoriously smart and aggressive. She didn't know the farmer and she didn't know his dog, a feisty farm mutt, he said.

Still, I started dressing right away. I am not a farmer, but I have a farm. I have seen all of my animals pour through an open gate and into the woods. It is not a feeling I could go back to sleep and forget about. In 15 minutes, we pulled up to the farm, a sprawling old place with the prerequisite giant barns, rotting tractors and trucks, and cannibalized cars. A dead goat and a damaged car were in the middle of the road. Cows, sheep, goats, and trucks were all over the place.

"Good luck, girl," I said. No time to lose. Rose first charged the farmer's dog, who was barking excitedly, chasing him under a truck. Then she took on three goats, who each tried to butt her. She backed them up, nipping and charging, until they went into a pen, and the farmer locked them in.

She circled around behind the cows—who do not flock like sheep, but do get nervous around strange animals—and nipped at one or two from the rear, staying well behind their legs. They started to move. I called her off, and the farmer got behind them—his son out in front with a bucket of grain—and they started moving toward the barn. Rose stayed behind, barking, nipping, and charging, while I yelled, "Barn, barn!" a command we use on my farm when I wanted animals brought to the barn.

There were also about 25 Tunis ewes and rams, and I could see they were not "dog broke"—that is, not used to being herded by dogs. But they did flock together, a few of them coming forward to challenge Rose. This was no problem. She may be cautious around cows, but there is no sheep alive that Rose fears. She did her practiced rope-a-dope, charging and retreating. The sheep became convinced of her determination and turned and ran to the safest place—in this case, an open pasture gate held by the farmer. In a few minutes they were all inside. Two cows bellowed from across the road but Jim hopped into his pickup and honked and rattled them back across the road.

"Good girl," I shouted, and gave the command "Truck, up," which means get back into the car. She had brought order in less than 10 minutes. The farmer gave me a crisp $10 bill—double our usual fee—and we headed home and went to sleep. A remarkable thing to see, at least to me. No big deal for Rose.

*****

I have four dogs—two border collies, two yellow Labs—and sometimes, as a student of the human-animal bond, I ask friends and acquaintances which dog, if any, they might want.

Three of my dogs are what you might call cute—they are pretty, love people, enjoy being held or scratched. Pearl has big brown eyes and swoons onto her back when she meets a dog-lover. Clementine adores anyone who will give her a biscuit. Izzy, my other border collie, will herd sometimes but he would rather cuddle with people, given the choice.

RoseRose is not cute. She is a working dog, a farm dog. She herds sheep, keeps the donkeys apart from the other animals during graining, alerts me when lambs are born, watches my back when the ram is around. She battles the donkeys, the ewes who protect their lambs, and stray dogs who approach the farm. She and I take the sheep out to graze two or three times a day. On Sundays, we sometimes march the flock down to the Presbyterian Church to hear the organ music and present ourselves through the big windows. "Hey, Rose," the kids sometimes shout after the service is over. With Rose, we don't need fences. As my friend Peter Hanks said, Rose is the fence.

Rose is a bit scrawny and ungainly looking, though quite beautiful to me. She is not like any dog I have had. She has few people skills. She does not cuddle or play. She tolerates kids, but is not fond of them. She is rarely in the same room with me, going from window to window of my farmhouse to scan for her flock. Every morning around sunrise, she hops onto my bed, gives me about 50 licks, and then disappears into a secret lair. I do not know where she sleeps. She checks on me constantly but rarely stays in the same room with me.

When I go to the back door, she watches to see which boots I am putting on. If I put on my barn boots, she joins me. If I put on my walking shoes, she stays in the house. When I had spinal troubles, Annie, my farm manager, walked the dogs for me. All of them went eagerly, except Rose. She sat on the foot of my bed day and night, going out only if I hobbled to the back door to let her out. She will take the sheep out for me, sitting in the meadow across the street watching them for hours.



Rose is on 24/7 call for farmers who don't have the money to buy a dog like her or the time to train one. We have rounded up many cows, stray goats, and sheep. Last winter, when a gate broke, a desperate farmer with 400 dairy cows called me in the middle of the night. He heard I had a working dog and we rushed to his farm. Rose stood at the open gate, facing down the herd of 1,200-pound cows for two hours. Some of the cows nosed up to Rose, curious. They got nipped. She was not their friend, she seemed to be saying. Not a one made it through.

A widow in Cossayuna was surprised by a blizzard and couldn't get her sheep into the barn in time. Rose rushed to the scene and did it in five minutes. We usually charge $5 for these emergency calls, for the pride of the farmers and the honor of Rose. She has earned $240, which sits in a basket. Most of the money will go to a border collie rescue group I belong to. The rest will buy a big steak bone for her

******



I worry about Rose. She has been torn up by barbed wire, impaled herself on posts and sharp rocks, slid and rolled down steep hills. I often see her limping (never for long), licking an unseen wound, or nursing torn paw pads, or I find scabs covered by her fur. When she lets me, I stroke and brush her and tell her how much I love and appreciate her. She will softly lick my hand and face. Sometimes, at night, even though she fights it, I see her eyes close as she slips into a deep sleep.

A few weeks ago, a breeding ram was delivered. He was reportedly assertive and belligerent, as rams are expected to be. We brought him through a gate with the other sheep and my donkeys: Lulu, her sister Fanny, and grumpy Jeannette, who had just unexpectedly given birth and was very protective of her new born.

Rose had to maneuver through the donkeys—two of which were dying to clobber her. She had to deal with the ram, too, who came off the trailer charging at her. She raced around and grabbed his privates, and when he groaned and grunted, ran around and nipped him on the nose. She spun him around and around for five minutes—keeping an eye on the donkeys and the sheep—until he ran into the middle of the flock of ewes and hid. Then she ran over and nipped Lulu on the butt, staying away from Jeannette and the baby. She gathered the sheep and the ram and moved them into the next pasture. In a few minutes, everyone was calmly munching on hay or grass.

******

Rose comes from Colorado, from a herding line. Her favorite spot—when she is not working, which is her favorite thing—is to sit in the garden, rain, cold, snow or sun, and watch her sheep. She sometimes seems lonely to me. I think there is perhaps a price to pay for letting a working dog work: A working dog can't be a pet, at least not in the conventional sense of the term. She does the things I need, but few of the things that often please us most about dogs—snuggling, playing, tagging along, making friends with dogs and people.

Often, I will look out and see her blanketed in snow and ice. When I drive the ATV, the other dogs like to hop on the back rack and ride with me. Rose always runs ahead. When we walk in the woods, she is always in front, alert for chipmunks, birds, squirrels, or deer. When kids walk up the road from school, they line up to pet the dogs. Rose never comes up to say hello, and they never look for her.

I have asked about 200 people which of my dogs they would like to have. Only two have mentioned Rose.
 
If you love the dog $1000 is the best money you will ever spend, he is a member of your family!

Had to spend $700 just this week stitching up our Jack Russell after it was attacked by a Boxer, we would complain to the owners but the Boxer is our dog too. They love each other except when it comes to food, now they are best mates again and the JR looks like Frankenstein.
 
Boyou,

Thank you for the stories about Rose. She is so absolutely fulfilling her breeding.

Sometimes I worry about the way we take working dogs and contain them in our small environments, neglecting to even take them for a couple of good long off-leash walks every day. Far too many people decide to get a "guard dog" and said dog is then consigned to a life of misery on a chain.

My neighbours had a beautiful border collie. They continually berated him for chasing cars. That was the only exercise that poor dog ever got. They were "too busy" to take him for a walk. Despite this, he had the greatest nature.

I've always had German Shepherds and simply can't conceive of life without one. They, like most dogs, need lots of exercise and lots of stimulation, and gradual persuasion that chasing the postie is not the best idea.

I'm with Professor Frink in that I like dogs better than people a lot of the time.
A dog knows nothing of hypocrisy or duplicity, will give you total loyalty and a thousand times the love that it ever expects to receive.
 
pay the money, the dog is a part of the family..

you'll make it up in stocks anyway!
 
We paid $4k to patch up our Jack Rascals leg (was with us in the garden and ran out after some kids on bikes... squashed by a nasty ford falcon)

There was no question whether to do it or not.
 
Hi Brad,

By now you probably don't need any more convincing, some very good advice in earlier posts, but just in case...

First of all, just get the operation done, dogs are worth it.

Second, your wife will most likely never truly forgive you, even if you do get her to agree to have your dog put to sleep.

Third, your one-year-old will miss the dog.

Fourth, some thirty years ago I lived in Spain. Had a Golden Retriever called Jasper. I decided to move to London. Found Jasper a good home in Spain. Convinced myself that it was the right thing to do, so I would not have to put him through six months' quarantine. Big mistake. He was my best friend and I have never forgiven myself for leaving him behind. I hope he has forgiven me.

I have since learned that pets are a lifetime responsibility- the lifetime of the pet.

Last, it's only 35 of your BHP shares. (Yes I have read your other posts)

But most important of all, do what is truly best for your dog, he/she depends on you to make all decisions on his/her behalf. That is the responsibility we take on as pet "owners".

Julia, you are nice person. On behalf of all the dogs I have ever known- thank you.
 
Hi,

I agree with the others who say it's worth it. One thing I would suggest is to "shop around" and get quotes from other vets and referalls from other people as to which vet they use. One of our dogs needed a ligament (or was it a tendon?) replaced last year and we got quotes ranging from $750 - $1000for the operation.

cheers
Mouse
 
I like this story:

TRIBUTE TO A DOG

"Senator Vest, of Missour, was attending a court in a country town, and while
waiting for the trial of a case in which he was interested, he was urged by the
attorneys in a dog case to help them. He was paid a fee of $250 by the plaintiff.
Voluminous evidence was introduced to show that the defendant had shot the
dog in malice, while the other evidence went to show that the dog had attacked
the defendant. Vest took no part in the trial and was not diposed to speak. The
attorneys, however, urged him to make a speech, else their client would not think
he had earned his fee. Being thus urged, he arose, scanned the face of each
juryman for a moment, and said:

'Gentleman of the Jury: The best friend a man has in the world may turn against
him and become his enemy. His son or daughter that he has reared with loving
care may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and dearest to us, those whom
we trust with our happiness and our good name may become traitors to their faith.
The money that a man has he may lose. It flies away from him, perhaps, when he
needs it most. A man's reputation may be sacrificed in the moment of ill-considered
action. The people who are prone to fall on their knees to do us honor when success
is with us may be the first to throw the stone of malice when failure settles it's cloud
upon our heads. The one absolutely unselish friend that man can have in this
selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful
or treacherous, is his dog. A man's dog stands by him in prosperity and poverty, in
health and sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground, where the wintry winds blow
and the snow drives fiercely, if only he may be near his master's side. He will kiss
the hand that has no food to offer; he will lick the wounds and sores that come in
encounter with the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of his pauper master,
as if he were a prince. When all other friends desert he remains. When the riches
take wings and reputation falls to pieces, he is constant in his love as the sun in it's
journey through the heavens.

'If fortune drives the master forth an outcast in the world, friendless and homeless,
the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that he accompany him, to guard
against danger, to fight against his enemies, and when the last scene of all comes,
and death takes the master in it's embrace, and his body is laid away in the cold
ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by the graveside will
the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad, but open in alert
watchfulness, faithful and true even in death.'

"Senator Vest sat down. He had spoken in a low voice, without any gesture. He
made no reference to the evidence of the merits of the case. When he finished,
judge and jury were wiping their eyes. The jury returned a verdict in favor of the
plaintiff for $500. He had sued for $200. This case was heard in 1870.
Click to expand...
 
Then there's this, if by small chance you've never read it:

When God had made the earth and sky,
The flowers and the trees.
He then made all the animals,
The fish, the birds and bees.
And when at last He'd finished,
Not one was quite the same.
He said, "I'll walk this world of mine,
And give each one a name."
And so He traveled far and wide
And everywhere He went,
A little creature followed Him
Until its strength was spent.
When all were named upon the earth
And in the sky and sea,
The little creature said, "Dear Lord,
There's not one left for me."
Kindly the Father said to him,
"I've left you to the end.
I've turned my own name back to front
And called you dog, my friend."

-Author Unknown-
Click to expand...
...and we'll leave the veracity of God's claims for other threads, huh. ;)
 
Its only money- you can make it again.

My dog has no money. But if the situation was in the reverse- I am sure my dog would give his own life in an instant to save mine.
 
When I was younger we have a Australian Cattle Dog on property 5 acres, Bluey. He was the most loyal gorgeous dog. One day a pack of roaming savage dogs who used to terrifiy the street had an awful go at old Blue. they had bit an artery in his leg. A friend and I dragged him on to the ute and compressed the area and went to the local vet. We were told it would cost @$600 that was 18 years ago and I was on pretty average wages (and no stock portfoilo). No question with the money it was tight but Bluey was my best friend - fix Bluey's leg. He recovered quite well and went on to see 12 years of age. He still holds a special place in my heart, a loyality and friendship which is truely selfless is very special.
 
Well this is what you can do
WE've just had a good day with the dow up 100 points or so, so its looking good for monday for our market. First thing monday morning what you do is put an order in for 100 000 YML @ market then put them back on@ 2c more !that should be a profit of $2000. Then you'll have change left over for a carton of beer or two.
Beleive me were all bullish YML at the moment.



This is not investment advice. You need to make your own decisions. if you don't buy them I probably will, but I won't be selling them too soon:rolleyes:
 
Never thought I'd get a bit tearful reading posts on a Stock Market site.
Thanks so much, Wayne, for those contributions, and to all the others who have so genuinely offered their personal experiences with their dogs.


My first German Shepherd literally saved my life when I was attacked,no hesitation, and held him down. I can't describe the bond I had with that dog.
 
BradK said:
OK OK,

I have a problem. And I am sure it will be a piece of p!ss for the skilled moral tradesman on this site.

I have been told that my beloved dog needs an operation. It is 3 years old, and its knee cap has popped out. The operation will cost $1000.

The wife has been in tears at the suggestion we have the poor thing put down. We are leaving for England at the end of the year, and I can just not justify the expense. Despite the howls of 'dog murderer'

How much would people on this forum pay for an operation?

Cheers
Brad
Click to expand...

Hi Brad K,

Sorry to hear your bad news. I remember when I was five and our dog had been hit by a couple of cars and needed to be put down. That night when my father came back from the vet he had tears in his eyes. This was the only time he ever cried. I will never forget it. We never got another dog such was the sadness. Should you hold any shares then perhaps you could look at selling one of them to pay for the operation. A small loan of $1,000 would not take that long and much to pay. Another option is to cut back on expenses, I know its hard as I've got a young daughter. We had to cut back to take out our Defence Health Insurance of over $2,000 p/a but for peace of mind that is worth every cent.
Best of luck.

Greggy
 

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