Hounded for cash — the sudden surge in dog bills

I am beginning to wonder if the dog is in on the hustle. She makes a bloody good show of reluctance to go to the vet, pulling on the leash and planting herself on the pavement once she recognises where we are heading. Half an hour later she bounds out, evincing such joy at the reunion that one barely registers the bill she has run up for her consultation.

Was there really anything wrong? Or do she and the vet just sit and gossip about that retriever from four doors down while she gnaws on a bone and the practice’s new business manager reviews the mutt’s key performance indicators for the last quarter?

“I’m sorry, dog, your numbers are way down, we are going to need to shave your leg and put a cone on your head for two weeks to get those repeat visits up. Oh, and take home a leaflet on teeth whitening.” I’m imagining a scene from The Sting: the dog, the vet and some guy in the corner playing Scott Joplin.

My cynicism was crystallised last week both by the discovery that the special doggy toothpaste the vet had been prescribing was available online for a third of the price and by the sudden doubling in our pet insurance premiums.

To be fair, we had abused the insurer’s trust by making a claim. The pooch had torn a cruciate ligament. This is a major injury and one that threatened to keep her out of the Euros. Seriously, it’s no joke. Liverpool’s Virgil van Dijk has been out for the whole season with this issue. The operation was so expensive I had to assume we were using the same surgeon.

A few months later we were offered an MRI scan (the cost of which now runs into thousands) for a persistent wheeze that disappeared with a prescription of anti-inflammatories, which looked very much like a box of Trebor mints, but without the compensatory benefits for her breath.

Happily, the insurance premiums were not as eye-watering as we feared since we had been automatically quoted for gold cover, when it turned out that for a mere 25 per cent increase we could buy bronze cover. This would suffice as long as the dog understands that any really expensive treatment will now need to be spread across two calendar months and that she will have to meet the cost of any cosmetic surgery herself.

And what is gold cover for a dog anyway? For that price I would hope it’s a private suite at the Wellington Hospital, complete with bathrobe and a selection of dog movies. I imagine the beast propped up in bed, pressing the buzzer for another fillet steak and perhaps just a smidgen more of that rather good offal.

It’s our own fault for upgrading from rodents. The lifespan of a hamster allows for a certain hard­heartedness in the face of high-end surgical procedures. But a dog is a different matter. The slightest droop of the ears and suddenly you are launching GoFundMe pages and flying in the reincarnation of cardiac surgeon Christiaan Barnard for a consultation. (Actually, you need platinum cover for Barnard, but gold does get you a session with Deepak Chopra on herbal supplements and dog meditation.)

The increase in premiums also reflects a rise in vets’ fees, drug prices and the availability of more complex treatments. Blame for this is laid at the door of private equity-backed companies such as VetPartners (BC Partners), Medivet (Inflexion Private Equity) and IVC Evidensia (EQT), which are mopping up independent practices and setting challenging stretch targets. And after consolidation and centralisation comes inflation. There are reasons private equity firms buy businesses, and few of them are about animal welfare.

There’s nothing wrong with a profit motive and the staff at our own practice are still lovely, if a little keener on upselling. Vets need to be viable businesses, which not all were. The big companies insist they are investing in training and better technology, rather than sweating their new assets and exploiting often far-from-wealthy owners’ love for their pets. Let’s hope so. A vet should be a haven for a sick dog, not a cashpoint for a fat cat.

Follow Robert on Twitter @robertshrimsley and email him at robert.shrimsley@ft.com

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