My weekly newspaper column for 1/11/07
also available online at:
http://www.cumberlink.com/articles/2007/01/11/editorial/rich_lewis/lewis84.txtRobotic pet one way to dodge the high cost of animal meds
By Rich Lewis, January 11, 2007
My son grew up with all kinds of pets, especially cats and dogs, but he is not allowed to have them in the small apartment he shares in Brooklyn.
So, for Christmas, I got him the closest thing I could find — a plastic and metal critter called “RoboPet.” The manufacturer, WowWee, describes it as a “futuristic replica of a real pup.” But take that with a grain of salt, since the 9-inch-long, 6-inch-high device has no skin, fur, tail or eyes.
But you can command it to walk, run, sit, lie down, roll over, bark, whimper, growl and pant. It even lifts its leg to “pee” — though it doesn’t drink or have a storage tank, so no consequences follow.
We fed it some batteries and let it walk around the house to the amusement of our guests — though our cat, Birdie, who is real, wasn’t impressed, as you can see by the picture. A few seconds after I snapped it, Birdie smacked RoboPet on the noggin and walked off in disgust.
I got the robo on sale and figured it would be good for a laugh until my son can get a real animal.
But after seeing some recent news stories, and doing a little research, I’m wondering if RoboPet isn’t the way to go, period.
Last week, the Associated Press noted that the federal Food and Drug Administration had “approved the first drug for obese canines.” Called Slentrol, “the Pfizer Inc. drug is aimed at helping fat Fidos shed extra pounds.”
Apparently, dogs, like people, are swelling like balloons because, as the Washington Post noted, “Many dogs are spending their days cooped up in houses or apartments, eating out of boredom and getting very little exercise,” and owners “tend to lavish their pets with treats.”
Great. Now you not only have to watch your own waistline, but your dog’s as well.
Worse yet, Slentrol will cost $1-$2 a day, the Post says, and “diet and exercise” will still be necessary in addition to the drug.
If you were doing the diet-and-exercise part, you wouldn’t need the drug in the first place, so that’s nuts.
Oh, and don’t even think about seeing what Slentrol can do for you.
“It’s for dogs — not for cats, and not for people,” Pfizer spokesman Bob Fauteux told the Post.
But living things don’t just get fat — they get depressed and deranged, maybe from worrying about how fat they are.
And that has opened up yet another new world of pet therapies.
As an article in yesterday’s Los Angeles Times reports, “Over the last decade, Prozac, Buspar, Amitriptyline, Clomicalm — clomipromine that is marketed expressly for dogs — and other drugs have been used to treat inappropriate, destructive and self-injuring behavior in animals.”
First we rushed to put our kids on Prozac, and now our pets?
Yes, indeed. One vet told the Times that 5 percent of the 8,000 cats and dogs being seen at his clinic “are taking drugs for their behavior.”
The problem here — if you want to call it that — is that we all love our pets and will go to any lengths to save, sooth or stimulate them. And there are a lot of pets out there. The Humane Society estimates 73 million owned dogs and 90 million owned cats in the U.S.
And all of them are candidates for sickness, injury, unhappiness and obesity.
The question is: Where do you draw the line before a bankruptcy court draws it for you? Even physically (and mentally) healthy pets are expensive. Pawprints and Purrs, a non-profit animal-education service, estimates it costs $1,115 a year to keep a medium-sized dog, and $1,500 for a big one.
Cats run about $640, which is actually less than rabbits ($885) and guinea pigs ($745). Knock a few bucks off for gerbils ($455) and go economy-class with birds ($235) and fish ($185).
That’s before the Slentrol and Prozac. But we all know someone (if you know me you do) who has shelled out diamond-ring-level dollars to keep a pet going. We once spent $800 in 72 hours on diagnosis and treatment for a dog that died 24 hours later. And $300 on a cat that got chewed on by a groundhog. What else could we do?
I have a relative who spent a bundle on a constipated lizard — and had to massage its belly to boot. What else could she do?
Surely you have known about people who got transplants, transfusions or lifelong drug therapies for their animals. What else could they do?
No wonder, as MSN Money contributing editor Liz Weston says, more and more people are willing to lay out thousands of dollars for pet insurance. She cites one estimate that “5 percent of American pet owners have the insurance, up from less than 1 percent in 1995.”
Makes sense — you insure your car to protect against a crushed-in fender that would cost you only $1,200 or so. Radiation therapy for your cat can run to $5,000. For the record, Weston cites a typical annual premium on an adult cat as $164 — and $239 for an adult dog.
OK, so RoboPet doesn’t have beautiful eyes or soft fur, and he won’t fetch a ball or fetch help if you fall down a well.
But all he eats is milliamps, never gets fat or depressed — and if he falls down dead, WowWee has a million more just like him.
———
Rich Lewis’ e-mail address is:
rlcolumn@comcast.net.