You might be wondering what kind of individual wakes up one morning..

and decides to start a pet insurance company. Well here I am, ready to indulge your very reasonable query.

The year is 2015 and I have just secured my very own apartment in Fort Greene, Brooklyn. It's an outrageously overpriced studio apartment (read: out of my budget) with questionable plumbing installed, and most importantly, it's pet friendly.



Enter: Denver. Or Wayne Gretzky as the rescue agency had dubbed him (pretty obvious why I changed that name immediately). Denver is a four-legged, 50 pound, shedding machine. And not a month into our life together, Denver reveals a surprisingly unwavering proclivity for trash-mongering and counter-surfing.

Now Denver is not your ordinary counter-surfer or trash-diver. He does not merely seek out what is within his nose-reach. No - Denver is a master of mischief, an explorer extraordinaire. Where there are cabinets, he opens them. Where there are locks, he breaks them. Where there are dishes, he again, breaks them. One day I came home to find two full mangoes obliterated, with only the crystal clean pits on the floor as evidence of his deed.

As Denver's personality began to bloom, I quickly realized that this little trickster was undoubtedly going to eat something poisonous in his lifetime. Having done excessive research on the high costs of dog ownership, I know that the odds of a huge vet bill were too high to ignore, and so the search for pet insurance began.

Fast forward one month from my revelation: I'm down a few flights grabbing my laundry from the drier (because I hadn't quite made it to in-unit laundry status yet), gone for maybe 5 minutes maximum. I come back upstairs to my apartment to find my freshly baked DOUBLE BATCH of chocolate chip cookies totally gone. The plate(s!) they were on, broken on the floor. Where is prince Denver in all of this? Sitting right in front of me, content as can be, burping up the premium dark chocolate I had just purchased in bulk from Whole Foods.

What's a responsible new dog mom to do?

Step 1: Panic.

Step 2: Call poison control...which, by the way, costs $65 to have someone tell you to take your dog to the hospital (more on that another day).

Step 3: Carry dog outside in arms while attempting to hail a cab to the doggy ER.

Step 4: Listen to your options: a) the $3,000 treatment plan including constant overnight watch, IV fluids, and activated charcoal, or b) risk it and hope he makes it through the night at home.

My dog is alive and well and I am sitting here advocating for pet insurance, so we all should know how this story ends. I paid a million dollars to have him monitored and medicated, and he came home to me happy as a dog full of lethal cookies the very next day.

The bottom line: very thankful for the pet insurance plan that reimbursed me for 75% of that very large bill. So learn from me, go get your pets insured before they get into trouble!

Want to see more of this little monster? Check him out on instagram at @denverthedoggy

Want to be a part of Wagmo?

Sign up for the Wagmo newsletter to get fun dog content delivered right to your inbox!

Enter a valid email address.