Tomorrow our beloved lab mix, Coco, goes under the knife for a torn ACL in her right hind leg. This comes six months after the same operation on her left hind leg. Our late great Moose also had the same operation on both legs, plus an intestinal surgery to remove a plastic ring.

Meanwhile, ten minutes ago I waved goodbye to Pablo, the dog trainer, to see if he could somehow help us to get our headstrong new rescue puppy, Abby, to do anything we say.

Oh yeah – Coco and Abby got flea baths last week too.

Total price tag for all this? Somewhere between You Gotta Be Kidding Me and I’m Too Embarrassed To Tell You.

Now, we’re not poor, but we’re definitely not rich. And we’re in the every-dollar-counts phase, with two kids in college and one approaching. So why spend this kind of money? Because we don’t have a choice. Oh sure, we could let our dogs limp and scratch, but then what kind of parents would we be?

Dogs are pits – as in money pits — but they’re not pets. They’re children. And if they’ve got something wrong with them, we’re going to fix it.

You can’t put a price tag on family.

(We’ll take a vacation next year, Cath, I swear!)

(I know I said that last year, but this time I mean it.)

(No, really, I do.)

(Um, honey? Is it me, or are the dogs still scratching?)

(Okay, I’ll shut up now.)