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By Edmund DeMarche
Rick Halper loves his dog. He has the bills to prove it.
Samantha is a fluffy white Samoyed, and she’s cost Halper well over $40,000 due to various medical complications.
“She’s family,” said Halper, sitting at his dining room table. “If you can help family, you do it.”
At seven, she suffered hip dysplasia, a degenerative joint disease seen in larger dogs where the hip joint forms the attachment of the hind leg to the body. It can be painful to dogs.
She soon developed glaucoma in both eyes. Veterinarians from the Animal Medical Center on the Upper East Side attempted to steady her declining vision, but eventually recommended eye removal surgery. They realized treatment, which included Halper injecting the dog medication directly in her eyes, was ineffective. She would soon be in excruciating pain.
Glaucoma in dogs is common. Like humans, fluid build up is excessively high in the eyeball, destroying the internal structures.
Faced with a decision that would leave Samantha permanently blind, Halper agreed to the operation. For the past five years, he has been caring for a blind dog. Her eyelids are sewn shut.
“Sometimes kids approach her and compliment what a cute dog she is,” said David Ressel, a friend of Halper who watches Samantha when they are away. “Then they realize she has no eyes and they get a little scared.”
Treating a pet like family is becoming commonplace.
Treatments available for people, from chemotherapy to kidney transplants, are available for pets. That means once-fatal conditions are now treatable at costs ranging from $1,000 to more than $5,000.
In a country where 47 million Americans go to sleep without health insurance, an increasing number of pets are covered. Veterinary Pet Insurance, the oldest pet insurance company, has seen revenue climb at a 26.8 percent annual rate since 1998. The company, which has about 71 percent of the U.S. pet insurance market, had gross sales of $149 million in 2007.
Halper had the insurance, but said it only paid for a fraction of the bills.
His apartment is a large space in an Upper East Side building that receives fresh flowers in the lobby once a week. Samantha laid in her favorite spot, right between the living room and the foyer.
In the apartment building, some people like dogs– others not so much.
“He’s so good to that dog,” said Besim Hereni, the building’s doorman. “He takes her to get haircuts and shampooed. People in the building admire what he does for her.”
Halper was surprised to hear people appreciate his compassion for Samantha.
“Some people in the building seem to like her, others seem to keep their distance,” he said.
Halper walks her three times a day. The walks are short. He puts the leash on her, ambles to the elevator and leads her to the front of the building.
Once outside, Samantha faces the direction of the wind and breathes in the fresh air. The walks go no farther than the tree in front of his building.
“It kind of works out because between work and all, I don’t have the time to take her for long walks anyway,” said Halper.
Halper is a Harvard-trained lawyer who works for the firm of Davis, Polk and Wardwell. He lives with his wife, Jen, a photo editor for US Weekly, and their 3-year-old son, Dylan.
Samantha has been with Halper almost as long as he’s been with his wife. He bought her from a breeder during his senior year at Duke University, where he earned his undergraduate degree and fell in love with his wife.
Growing up, his family never owned a dog, yet he always wanted one. He was attracted to Samoyeds because of their mild temperament and energy outside.
“She’s been with me through a lot, law school and all,” said Halper. “If I saw Samantha suffering, that’s when I would have considered other options. But that was never the case, she’s has the same personality she always had.”
Halper considers the amount of money he spent on his dog unremarkable. He said “playing home vet” and injecting her eyes with medication was the most difficult part of the entire ordeal.
Life has not changed all that much for Samantha. Even though she had her share of health issues, she never was a problem in the apartment.
During the blackout in the summer of 2003, Halper was away on business and his wife was alone with the dog. She remembered laying out newspapers in the apartment and telling Samantha she won’t be able to go for a walk because it would require Jen Halper to carry a 90-pound dog down seven flights of stairs.
But a day passed and Samantha held it in.
“I ended up having to carry her down,” said Jen Halper.
Mike Schaffer wrote a book that is being published in March called, “One Nation Under Dog.” He investigated the country’s evolving relationship with pets.
While doing research for the book, Schaffer spent time in pet cemeteries. There, he would watch people mourning the death of a pet and observe people leave flowers over a pet’s grave.
He also noticed a trend. Pets that died in the 20s often had gravestones that read, for example: Here lies Spot, faithful servant.” In the 50s and 60s, it changed to: “Here lies Spot, my pal.” And pets being buried since the 90s, have gravestones with remarks such as: “Here lies Spot, my son.”
“You see the relationship growing closer and closer,” said Schaffer, a City Hall reporter for The Philadelphia Enquirer who took time off to write the book. “You don’t see dog houses anymore, because now pets live in your house.”
Pets’ roles in ads generated by advertising companies have also changed. Ads in the 20s show dogs outdoors. Ads in the 50s and 60s show dogs next to fireplaces. Today, companies show dogs sleeping next to their owners in bed, said Schaffer.
The trend began in the 60s. People began to move farther away from home, work longer hours and unions grew weaker.
Society needed something to hold onto and looked to pets, Schaffer said.
Dr. Lawrence A. Kurdek, a behavioral psychologist from Wright State University, has conducted a study that is under editorial review focusing on pet dogs’ roles as attachment figures. An attachment figure is considered a mother, father, brother or significant other.
The study took a sample of the student population from Wright State and paired them with a pet dog for one year.
The conclusion of the study revealed that the majority of students preferred the dogs to their father.
Kurdek was not surprised by the outcome because he said during college, most students have a shaky relationship with their fathers.
Kurdek was diagnosed with colon cancer two years ago and during his battle formed a close bond with his cocker spaniel-poodle mixes Lilly and Gretta.
“A lot of people diagnosed with a serious disease or are going through difficult times, look to pets as a calming presence,” said Kurdek.
The study showed that extroverts fare no better in forming relationships with pets than introverts.
In instances where pet owners shun people in favor of pets, Kurdek admitted those are times when the relationship tips the scale as being “unhealthy.” Kurdek said more money will be put to research pets and their emotional bonds with owners.
Some companies have already begun to spend money on this trend.
IAMS, a pet food manufacturing company, which sold $118.3 million in pet food last year, maintains a pet loss hotline for pet owners who’ve recently lost a pet.
“Sometimes people may feel embarrassed to talk about grieving the loss of a pet and need to vent to someone,” said Sandy, an employee at IAMS support center. “I think it’s easier to talk about these things with a stranger sometimes.”
Sandy, who did not give her last name because she was unclear of company policy, said she worked at the center for a year.
“Most calls I get are from friends of people who lost pets and are concerned they may be grieving longer than normal,” said Sandy. “But other times, I’ll be getting emotional on the phone with them.”
Sandy has two dogs and three cats, and said this makes the caller feel at ease. “I know what people are going through, I’ve been lucky, and I’ve only lost one dog.”
Workers at the center receive one training session from a social worker on how to handle an emotional person.
“We learn to listen,” said Sandy. “We’re not trained psychiatrists, but we can be a shoulder to cry on.”
Stephanie LaFarge, the senior director of Counseling Services for the ASPCA, said there are clear similarities between the stresses felt by losing family members and pets.
When a loved one dies, the religious find comfort in believing that they will be reunited together in Heaven. However, it is widely believed that animals are without souls, hence losing one is final.
“People have a hard time saying goodbye forever,” said LaFarge, whose job includes consoling people who have just lost a pet.
Cases like Halper’s are familiar to LaFarge because of the emotional attachment people have with their pets. Most of her day involves speaking with people who are coming to grips that an aging pet is failing.
“Pets and people go through a lot together,” said LaFarge. “Pets might be the only link with a dead family member. Friends might leave, but pets are there through it all.”
Dogs have what some people call “unconditional love” because no matter how poorly a dog is treated, it seldom abandons its owner, said LaFarge.
“A dog basically tells his owner, ‘No matter what you do to me or how grumpy you are, I’m going to love you,’” said LaFarge.
She once dealt with a park ranger who lived and worked in a desolate area in Yellowstone National Park. The woman was anticipating her 17-year-old cat’s death and was distraught. The woman swore she would never get another pet because of the intense emotional connection.
This reaction is normal in the grieving process. But LaFarge warns people not to become selfish when it comes to the animal’s health.
Every time veterinarians face telling a pet owner the best option is euthanasia, the owner’s response can vary.
“I once told an elderly woman that I think her dog should be put to sleep,” said Dr. Aaron Lochak, a veterinarian at Brooklyn’s Animal Hospital. “She told me she thinks I should be put to sleep.”
When Lochak tells owners about euthanasia, he reads their expression. If the owner looks upset, he proceeds with the options; if the owner looks angry, he simply tells him it’s his decision.
“An animal does not need to be crying to be in severe pain,” said Lochak. “And sometimes people keep very sick animals going for selfish reasons.”
Nearly two-thirds – 63 percent – of households have a pet, and pet lovers spent $38.5 billion on their pets in 2006, up from $21 billion a decade earlier. According to the Census Bureau, in the last decade, the percentage of homes with pets has remained relatively stable, but the amount of money people spend on pets has doubled.
According to a recent American Kennel Club study, eight in 10 dog owners consider pets “family.” Americans are expected to spend nearly $11 billion on veterinary care in 2008, according to the American Pet Product Manufacturers Association. That would be an 8.5 percent increase from 2007.
John Grogan wrote a memoir about his Labrador, called “Marley and Me.” In the book, Grogan wrote about the bond people form with their pets.
“Dogs are pack animals,” said Grogan. “They are hardwired to find a place in the family and blend perfectly with its role.”
Grogan said he receives a lot of feedback on his New York Times bestseller.
“I think there’s people in the middle who love their dogs and treat them like family,” said Grogan. “But I also get some people who take it to the extreme.”
Mark Levin, a syndicated conservative radio host, wrote “Rescuing Sprite,” after his dog died of old age. There were times during his radio broadcast where he would need a moment to collect himself after talking about his dog.
“A true dog and cat lover doesn’t consider his dog or cat to be a pet but a family member,” wrote Levin, in an email response. “And most of us would do anything to help or save our family members.”
“Writing “Rescuing Sprite” was actually a very difficult experience. I relived the wonderful times with Sprite, but also spent a considerable amount of time discussing his last weeks,” wrote Levin.
Levin has donated a “significant percentage” of the proceeds to animal shelters across the country.
Jennifer Kwasniewski, 44, an environmental planner who lives in Boulder, Colo., lost her dog Mushka on June 25, and has a different way to grieve the loss of her pet.
She bought a puppy when Mushka, who had heart disease, took a turn for the worse when she was 12.
“I think that helped the grieving process,” said Kwasniewski. “I can’t picture not having a dog in my life.”
“I took it hard,” said Kwasniewski, who bought Mushka while she was living in Cleveland, Ohio. “She used to go running with me when I’d go for jogs at night and protect me.”
“I spent about $400 a month for a little over a year on vet visits,” said Kwasniewski. “I felt like I owed her health for all the joy she brought into my life.”
LaFarge does not recommend replacing a dog with a puppy right away.
“Animals are not a commodity,” said LaFarge. “Getting an animal to replace another one is seldom a good idea.” Lafarge recommends waiting a month and visiting a local animal shelter and see if there’s an animal you connect with.
Every other Tuesday, the Animal Medical Center in Manhattan offers a pet loss support group. The meeting consists of pet owners who feel compelled to share their emotions and experiences in losing a pet.
The group’s size varies, but is generally in the eight to 10 member range.
The policy is no food and you must bring a picture of your deceased pet. Most members pass around the pictures and gush over, say, how cute the small dog looked in a stocking at Christmastime.
“When I lost my pet, I lost a part of me,” said Gail Staiti whose 14-year-old Yorkie, Theo, died from an unexpected blood clot about two months earlier. “I lived for that dog. I remember being afraid that if I were to die before him, nobody would ever be able to give him as much love as I did.”
Staiti said she would never get a pet again. She sat in the meeting with about 20 email messages printed out from friends and family consoling her about Theo. She received about the same number of mass cards as she did emails.
“At first I couldn’t even read the letters because I couldn’t stop sobbing,” said Staiti. “People see me and they still, two months later, say sorry about Theo, and that just tears my heart.”
Staiti lived alone with Theo for his entire life. She said her one-bedroom apartment feels like a two-bedroom apartment with her dog. She remembers everything about her dog: from veterinary visits and special diets Theo was put on to taking him for walks early in the morning and faces Theo would make at her during the day.
Don DiMarco first started to attend the meetings years ago, after his dogs Sasha and Sheba, two Boarder-Collie mixes died. He found the meetings helpful.
Recently, he has begun to take care of stray cats in the neighborhood, by feeding them and paying to have them neutered and spayed. He has grown attached to these animals.
“I wish animals could just look at you and tell you that they are in pain,” said DiMarco. “So in many ways, you play the role of God and I think that is a huge role in the guilt people feel after losing a pet. You know, you’re left wondering if you acted too soon.”
DiMarco is one of the most experienced people at the meeting because he has been going on and off for years. He helps Laurie Sine, the grief counselor, talk with some of the newer members.
“I don’t want to say it gets easier, because your pet is always with you,” said DiMarco. “But groups like these help, because you know you’re not alone.”
This meeting is not intended to be religious, but members seemed to believe there was an afterlife for their pets, where they will once again be united.
There is a poem called, “The Rainbow Bridge” suggests that when a pet dies, they play with other pets in a vast, beautiful field. And once their owner passes on, they are reunited. The pet is not the same age as it was when it died, according to the poem, the pet is youthful again.
Every member at the meeting chose to have their pet cremated and is deciding what to do with the ashes. The main reason in the group for not opting for an animal cemetery was that their animal didn’t know any pet in there and they didn’t want their pet feeling awkward around the other pets in the other life.
Sean Robinson works for Pet Haven Cemetery and Crematory in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. When a person loses a pet and wants it cremated or buried, it’s his job to remove the dead animal from the house.
“I feel like a social worker almost,” said Robinson. “Some people take it pretty good and stay strong while others take it hard.”
Robinson just collected the carcass of a dead cat. The owner was sobbing uncontrollably. The woman had just beaten cancer, and through her four-year ordeal two of her three cats died. This cat was her last remaining.
“I probably stayed with her for two hours,” said Robinson, who drives to homes with his two and a half year old pit-bull mix. “She was divorced and lonely. She told me that she went through a lot with those cats and they were all she had.”
Animals have a sixth sense about them, in their ability to “know” when humans are not feeling well,” wrote Marty Tousley, a bereavement counselor and author of “The Final Farewell: Preparing For and Mourning the Loss of Your Pet.” “When the human and the animal are very closely bonded, they’re able to communicate with each other on a non-verbal, intuitive level.”
“I can also tell you that many people who’ve lost their partners find that the physical touch of a companion animal is priceless to them,” wrote Tousley, who is hearing impaired and responded to questions via email.
Robinson recently picked up the remains of eight dead pets at a veterinary clinic in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn.
When a pet dies and its owner does not know what to do with the body, they often leave it at a veterinary office.
He drives a blue Rav 4 because he doesn’t want to come across as an industrial “white van” driver. And he loads the trunk with black plastic bags filled with the animals.
“Sometimes, if it’s hot and the animal just died, it may stink, but they’re usually frozen,” said Robinson.
Robinson picks up the animals in Manhattan and Brooklyn and drives them to Pennsylvania for cremation.
He walked into the clinic, past the front desk and down to the basement. Two women, both in their 30s, were scrubbing a Sheepdog. He passed them and opened a large, white freezer, like the ones fishermen use for bait storage on boats. He lifted a small bag and placed it on the ground.
Clunk.
It sounded like he put down a bowling ball.
“Frozen hard,” Robinson said. The bags vary in sizes, from mastiffs to small stray kittens.
When he picks up animals at clinics, it’s not too emotional. But when he visits homes, he sometimes grieves with the family.
Earlier that week, a family lost their Shih Tzu. Family members congregated around the dog’s body and told stories about him.
“I felt myself start to get emotional,” said Robinson, while he lifted a warm, dead dog out of the freezer. “This one must have just died.”
The Halpers may be able to afford pet care, but some families need to make hard choices whether or not treating a pet is feasible.
“The reaction people had in New Orleans when they refused to leave their pets behind, really highlighted the strong relationships,” said Jane Hoffman, the president of the Mayor’s Alliance for NYC’s Animals. “As a society, our relationships with pets have changed.”
Sherry Decan, a sales manager at a Brooklyn newspaper, is on the opposite end of the financial spectrum to Rick Halper.
She works a job near home as a sales manager at the Brooklyn View. She makes a bit more than minimum wage and lives off commission.
“It’s hard,” said Decan, who has an 18-year-old daughter with lupus that requires her to work near her home.
Decan has a Maltese named Little Lady that weighs 8.6 pounds. Due to lack of muscle in her hindquarters, she suffered a hernia that will require surgery for $450.
The surgery has to be put on hold because Decan needs to raise money.
“It’s not life or death, but I do want to get it over with,” said Decan, who pampers Little Lady by getting her groomed once a month. “But most people can’t just pull out $450 for their dog.”
Photo: Flickr