ACCORDING TO DOGSTRUST.IE, 49% of families own at least one dog. That’s roughly about half of all Irish households. Including ours. We own a three year old miniature Jack Russell and our senior lady of almost fourteen years is a collie cross.
A year ago she was diagnosed with a disease that will ultimately claim her but there’s life in the old gal yet. Recently l booked her into the vets for her lumps and bumps checkup. These visits hurt us both for different reasons. Juno greatly dislikes the attention and I am not fond of the financial debit at the end of each visit. But needs must and them’s the things you take on the chin when you are a dog owner.
On this particular day it was “just” her yearly examination. But in the waiting room, talking softly to keep her calm, I realised I was feeling anxious too. Always cognisant of her age, I poked at an intrusive thought – what if a routine blood test flags an issue and our day is thrown on its head?
Forty minutes and a favourable blood result later, Juno was thoroughly ready to leave. New meds, a sneaky nail trim and free chats with all the other pet owners in the surgery, saw her human separated from the guts of two hundred euros.
Feeling a tiny bit financially stung but very relieved with my dog’s clean-ish bill of health, I spent the duration of our homeward journey thinking about value for money. Having come up against a worrisome appointment with her own dog a few weeks ago, I remembered my friend commenting, “You’d pay €800 to hear good news.”
The money dial
So why does what we value determine how much we are willing to spend? My pal might have landed on something: it’s not what we choose to splash our cash on but rather what those things mean to us. Like our beloved pets, for example.
Alamy Stock Photo
Alamy Stock Photo
When something appeals to our sense of identity, linking us to what we value or even just delivering a dopamine hit, we are more likely to pay more. There’s even a trendy term for it - money dial, referring to particular areas in our lives where we will spend money without questioning the cost.
The term was coined by American author Ramit Sethi, known for the Netflix series “How To Get Rich.” According to Sethi, the most popular money dials include convenience, luxury, travel, health/fitness, freedom, social status and self-improvement.
My dogs are my money dial – my deep-rooted priority, my non-negotiable. That day at the vets, I was paying for peace of mind, and that to me is priceless.
Scrolling through Sethi’s list, it is evident that money dials look different to everyone. I know people who gladly hand over their hard-earned cash in order to economise on their most expensive commodity – time.
Ramit Sethi says he has the secrets to getting rich. YouTube / ramitsethi
YouTube / ramitsethi / ramitsethi
For them, having a professional come in and clean their home serves a dual purpose; they are prioritising their mental health and buying time. The time they would prefer to spend with their family.
Reading about folk investing in quality items such as high-end mattresses complete with Egyptian cotton bed linen makes me question my ten-year-old mattress and basic Dunnes Stores pillowcase choices. But when a small dog likes to make himself comfortable on the end of the bed, I don’t see the point in the procurement of sumptuous bedding.
Similarly, although I love to spot new cars on the road following the New Year and in July, I cannot fathom the appeal of a purchase, whose depreciation the very moment it is driven from the showroom can be as high as €5K. Locked in financial hits such as those hurt my thoughts.
Perhaps when I am free from ferrying mucky-booted teens hither and thither, ones who like to hide their rubbish down the sides of the seats, I might reconsider. But for now, I am content to settle for a Budget Buy and not fret about the interior being coated with my dogs’ DNA.
Our relationship with money
Money can be a taboo topic, turbocharged with unstable emotions, and as a result, never addressed in polite company. As a society, we do like to criticise how others manage their finances, particularly when their choices don’t align with ours. The notion of buying pre-cooked meals might look wasteful to someone who batch cooks at the weekend, yet both options prioritise convenience.
Alamy Stock Photo
Alamy Stock Photo
I often wonder what the 13-year-old version of me would make of my money dials. Every now and again, she likes to pay a nostalgic visit, typically showing up when I am having my nails done. There’s a reason for this. A habitual, chronic nail biter, I like to think she approves. When we were finally released from lockdown, I decided to honour my teenage self by having regular, professional manicures. Hence, the occasional drop by.
Whenever I get a dose of the guilts about spending money on myself with this one simple act of self-care, I summon her. She doesn’t castigate or judge. She doesn’t say much at all, preferring instead to let me sit with my big money feelings until I arrive at the conclusion both of us knew I would.
It’s ok to spend my own money on something I want and that I enjoy.
We can also, according to Sethi, adjust our money dial by turning it up or setting it to low depending on what our focus is. For instance, deciding to eschew fast fashion in favour of a sustainable investment piece of clothing that we love wearing and putting what we’ve saved towards an experience, jetting off to see a favourite artist in another city.
The crux of the matter hinges on being aware of what you value and giving precedence – plus your cash – to those items or areas of your life. Tuning the dial down on everything else subsequently frees up valuable time and finances to invest in key priorities.
Put another way, putting time and effort into overriding instant gratification in favour of long-term goals could look like a new robotic hoover keeping your space clean as you enjoy a session in the gym or belting out the chorus of Killeagh at EP later on this year.
In the meantime, I’ve got my dogs. And my nails. For me, these two areas are definitely where cost doesn’t count.
Gwen Loughman is the gatekeeper of four boys, one husband and a watcher over two dogs.