We recently took our dog Molly to the vet for a checkup. The vet pointed out Molly has dental tartar and asked us if anyone has provided her a professional cleaning. This was a watershed moment.
When I first moved to Arizona, I took my cat to a vet in an upscale shopping center. The vet stressed the importance of professionally cleaning the cat’s teeth. The logic behind this position seems logical, but I pressed the vet with questions. The cost is not minimal, but that was not my main concern. My main concern was putting my older cat under for a teeth cleaning. Did the risks of anesthesia for an old cat outweigh the risks my cat faced living with dirty teeth? I asked the vet if she was familiar with documentation showing evidence that dirty teeth will directly shorten a pet’s life. Is there a direct correlation? The vet did not provide such information and I inferred my questioning annoyed her. I never returned to her practice.
When I was growing up, my pets lived outside. We never cleaned their teeth. They lived long lives. Would they have lived even longer if we had brushed their teeth?
My mom takes a more sinister approach. She does not recall vets when I was younger discussing to the same extent teeth cleanings for pets. She believes some vets, to a great extent, push teeth cleanings as an additional stream of revenue. I would like to believe people involved in healthcare services would not push those services because of financial motives, but anyone regularly reading news stories knows that unfortunately is not always the case. People rationalize quite a bit in the name of money. I do not know if my mom’s suspicions are correct, but she feels strongly about them.
I later took our dog Molly to a different vet who we visited several times. A creature had bitten Molly on the paw. At least three times during this particular visit, the vet or member of the staff talked to us about the virtues of pet healthcare insurance. The vet explained a teeth cleaning would help the pet health insurance pay for itself. When we went to pay the visit’s fee, the vet told the woman behind the checkout counter that we would probably purchase the pet insurance. I never implied that. In fact, I clearly stated I wanted additional time to think about it. When I helped Molly back into our car, I remember feeling extremely uncomfortable and wondered why. I realized this was my reaction to an organization putting what I considered an extreme amount of pressure on me to purchase something before I prepared myself to make a decision. The decision I did make was to never return to that vet.
This brings us back to our current vet. When he asked if anyone had professionally cleaned Molly’s teeth, we said no. I waited for his response, but he did not give one. That was the end of the teeth cleaning conversation. I assume he decided he provided us with the information and we were smart enough to follow up with questions or make our own decision. What a novel concept.
Up-selling sucks. Few people enjoy being the recipient of up-selling, but they often don’t mind engaging in such a practice themselves. It’s one of the worst forms of public relations. Be happy a customer is a customer and don’t see it as an opportunity to suck from them more of their hard-earned money. If they appreciate your service, they will inquire about additional possibilities without you putting the screws to them.
We now attempt to brush Molly’s teeth with a real toothbrush. She doesn’t seem to mind it. She may need a professional cleaning, but no vet has clearly explained to me the benefits backed up with facts and not just fear. The quickest way to spark my cynicism is to not answer my questions or pressure me. Even if the truth is on your side, those tactics will lead you in the doghouse.