Not that kind of PDA, folks! When I asked Mom to type for me, she told me what PDA means to her - public display of affection. Nope, I don't have an opinion on that. I mean, I'm a dog, and dogs do butt sniffing to get friendly, and we do it right out in the open, very publicly. No, today I'd like to propose a Pets with Disabilities Act (PDA). Mom said these are currently unprecedented times in our nation's capital, with all kinds of new ideas popping up, so that got me to thinking - if I was having an inspired idea for new legislation, now would be the time to stick it out there.
Why am I inspired at this time you ask? I am injured again. 😕 I know. I can hear you saying, "Oh, no, Gus! You poor pup!" just like everyone else. Just in case you're not keeping track, I hurt my back, right leg over a year ago - partial cruciate ligament tear. Mom and Dad opted against surgery, mostly because they couldn't find anyone where we live who would do it, and it was real expensive. Don't think too badly of them, though (Mom made me write that), because my leg recovered pretty well. But two Sundays ago, I got the zoomies outside, and pop, there went the back, left leg. Mom said, "Oh, man, I can tell that was bad," as she struggled to carry me down the hill into the house. Bless her heart, though, she thought I re-injured my right leg. I was silently screaming, "You idiot! It's the other leg!" and when I finally got the message across, Mom said, "Oh crap. It's your other leg?!" Dad echoed similar sentiments, and they did their best to make me comfy.
Mom cried all day about how she just knew they'd have to put me down, while Dad told her to just wait and see what the vet said on Monday. I couldn't figure out where the heck down would be; I was already on the floor, for Pete's sake. But Mom kept on about how I'd never make it with two injured back legs, and no matter how many good thoughts Dad tried to interject, like "This is why we got pet insurance after he hurt his other leg," and "Maybe the new vet will have some ideas," Mom just cried and cried.
Neither Mom nor I slept well on Sunday night, and we went off to the vet first thing Monday. The vet on duty said, "Oh, yeah. That ligament is gone," and Mom started to get emotional again. But Dr. Sunshine (I don't know his name, but he was full of positive thoughts) told Mom and Dad their vet place now had a surgeon who could fix me right up. The explanation of how he'd fix me up didn't sound very good to me, but Mom and Dad were psyched, and I was in too much pain to vote either way. Mom and Dad scheduled the surgery, got some pain pills for me, and we left.
Wait, I thought. That's it? Sign me up to be sliced and diced, give me a few pills, and send me home? How am I supposed to get along until the surgery? I can hardly walk, for crying out loud! As we headed home, Mom and Dad seemed to be having the same conversation. Mom said she couldn't sleep downstairs with me for forever, and Dad said he didn't see how the heck they'd get me upstairs where I normally sleep, because I was overweight and too heavy for either one of them to carry me around all the time. I thought that was a cheap shot (hello, Pot, this is the Kettle calling you out!), but Mom, that traitor, agreed.
This is where PDA would come in. My new legislation would require vets to provide physical supports to pets, and it would require insurance companies to provide financial support to pet parents - just like humans get at the doctor and through their insurance. Mom broke her wrist, they gave her an immobilizer to protect her hand, while still allowing her to use her fingers some. Dad hurt his knee; he has a knee brace. You hurt your ankle, they give you crutches. Pets deserve the same rights! Where's my pet wheelchair?
Where's my lift to get up the stairs? My cousin Ed struggles with mobility; he's got a cool chair that zips right up the steps. My great grandma got a hospital bed in her apartment to help her with getting in and out of bed. Where's my orthopedic pet bed that lowers itself down so I can get in and then fluffs up to make me comfy? Where are my pet snowshoes, so I can trudge through the snow to potty on 2.5 legs? If I had those, would our pet insurance cover them? Absolutely not, but why not?
A pet's humans have to figure these things out all on their own - and at their own cost. So far my humans have purchased a dog sling (I keep sliding backwards in it); a dog backpack (Mom can get me in it but not on her back), and a dog knee brace (it took Mom about 20 minutes to figure out the brace Dad bought was for the wrong leg). They put up a sun shelter to protect a potty spot from the snow, but even after they shoveled the first round of snow off the canopy, it buckled overnight, so I'm SOL til spring unless they find me some snowshoes. Mom's one truly successful idea so far has been schlepping me upstairs in a laundry basket one step at a time. But my PDA legislation would help pet humans with these types of things - and you can see my humans need all the help they can get.
Now's the time, pets and pet parents! Write your representative about the Pets with Disabilities Act. Let's get physical supports and rehabilitative aids provided to injured or disabled pets, and let's get them at least partially covered by pet insurance. I'm counting on your support!
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