Pets, why do we have them?

Seriously why do we have pets? I mean they're nothing but trouble. You pay what's often silly money for them and they come home and are like babies, dependent on you for everything. You've got to potty train them, teach them not to chew and claw stuff and then there's the jabs. Then they get bigger and start eating more...and more...and more...then they get fussy and won't eat anything but the expensive stuff that's not on special offer at Tesco...then they decide two days in they don't like that either... Then there's more jabs and neutering and all the other things vets charge you for. Then there's the mammoth of hassle when you go on holiday! And they always come back with fleas. (Grrr.) And they smell. And moult. And have more vet bills and fussy food spats. So why, oh why do we let ourselves in for it each and every time?

Why are they so bleeding cute? And they love you...then you end up loving them an insanely huge amount back! And then the vet tells you the stupid fluff ball has a heart murmur. But it's okay because he's only five and a half, really mild and won't affect him badly til he's past ten. Twelve if we keep him healthy and give him his cocktail of tablets every day. And then, one cold, rainy Saturday night in October, you're sitting on the sofa a-watching the X-Factor...and you hear this thump thump thump thump like a heartbeat. Except it's more like thump-woosh thump-woosh thump-woosh thump-woosh and you look over and half a meter away you see your dog sitting there. And you can hear the murmur! Hear it! From 50cms plus away. That thing vets always tut as they listen to him with a stethoscope is now audible. Audible over the X-Factor.

So you keep him calm and quiet and happy all weekend (and it's weird because he's absolutely fine except that in the middle of the night you can still hear his heart pumping and wooshing from the other side of the room) and manage to get the last vet appointment on Monday night. And you walk in there (and he gets all nervous and his heart gets even worse) and they tell you that his heart condition has gone from okay to dreadful in the blink of an eye. It was a level three/four out of a possible six. Tis now a six plus plus plus plus (the vet's own words...) And.........they can't do anything. Not even tests because a) the stress of the anaesthetic and the time at the surgery is going to take its toll and b) it may tell them what's happened and why, but they can't do anything about it. Nada. To be fair the vet was fabulous. She always sees Beau and was shocked at how bad it'd got so fast. She saw him...two, three weeks back. She was alarmed that she too could hear it without the stethoscope. Like really alarmed. Asked if she could show her colleague. I didn't mind. She said he was the kind of case you only see in a textbook. It's bad...like really bad...like mega severe. ... So he gets another tablet. Makes...five a day. But there's nothing else they can do but manage the symptoms. The vet (who, again, was amazing) said that it was great that in all other ways he was perfectly healthy. No other signs of his heart problem. But it will only get worse. Was told to go back if anything else changes.

Stupid pooch. Why does he have to have a heart murmur? Why? Why my dog? Stupid pooch. And why do I love the fluff bag so much? Stupid pooch. Why my doggie?