Billy and Taxes

I had just barely finished my happy dance.  That dance that hopefully comes once a year around April 15th when you see the number on your tax refund.  Our number wasn’t huge, but high enough in the three-digit range to celebrate a little.  Enough to provoke daydreams of a special treat…a night away perhaps, or a new gadget.  Even if it goes straight into the kids’ college fund, it still has that exciting feel of free money.

Within hours of hitting the “file” button on the TurboTax program, I still have a levitating bounce in my step when I feel that tap on the shoulder. I turn around and hand it over, the near equivalent of my tax refund, to the veterinary hospital.  How did they know exactly how much to charge for saving the life of our sweet old kitty, Billy?

We love our pets and believe that they are a huge part of what makes our house a home.  When it comes to life or death of these loyal friends, how far will we go to keep them around?  We could have let old sick Billy wander off to die instead of sending our daughter to squeeze under the porch and drag him out of his hiding place.  We could have let him starve himself to death with nausea rather than force-feeding him with a syringe multiple times a day.

Right now Billy sits by my side, licking his chops and purring, while I type.  And when I subtract the vet bill from our tax refund there is still a low two-digit number.  Maybe I’ll go buy myself a cup of coffee…and a bag of prescription cat food.

I guess I should thank Uncle Sam for putting some of our hard earned money aside in a Feline Medical Account for times like this.  The “free money” went to good use.