When we care more for our animals than we do for ourselves

At what point do we humans take pet ownership too far? How about sharing the bed with them. Or letting them lick areas of our bodies humans would cringe at the mere thought of (feet, people.). Possessing pet insurance before making sure our existing human family members have coverage for the occasional trip to the doctor or emergency room? What about sending your dog to the "day care" that's really a spa where they bathe him and fluff her and massage every overworked stressed out mommy muscle so tense from tending to house, home, and varmints kids...what? Oh yeah, that's the dog we're talking about.

For the record, I practice none of these acts of loyalty because in my world my animals are and have become yet another life form for which to care for. That's it. Oversimplification? Lack of respect? Naw. Reality.

Chloe, our almost-eleven-year-old "senior" cat, has suffered a bit of hair loss over the past several months. One evening I shared the tale of The Cat Who Lost Her Hair with some fellow cat lovers. Of which, a very concerned feline fanatic suggested I take the aging cat to a new vet who would save her life, promising a full head of hair to prance about town with during her final years.

Just get her on antidepressants. She'll be fine!

A couple of days pass. Emily makes an appointment.

Five minutes into the initial consult I've got Senor DVM telling me all the wonders a little blue pill will do for my aging feline. He had me. Hook. Line. Sinker.

It's now been a solid month and we see more of Chloe. Hear more of Chloe. She scampers outside at the sliveriest open door. I see her rolling in the sandy sun baked stone path. She gnaws at the crabgrass. This cat couldn't be happier.