If ever you start to question the NHS and its taxpayer-funded healthcare, just ask a pet owner what life is like when it comes to paying medical bills.

I appreciate I am hardly bringing you breaking news here, but getting any form of treatment for your four-legged friend in this day and age is reminiscent of the cliched garage owner looking under your car’s bonnet, whistling through their teeth, and uttering the immortal phrase: ‘That, I’m afraid, is not going to be cheap.’

You could probably buy a new engine for your car for less than any significant veterinary treatment in this day and age.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the veterinary trade. I’ve enjoyed All Creatures Great and Small (both original and remake) and understand there’s a long-standing history of costs and expertise involved.

And, for that matter, that the NHS’ free-at-the-point-of-service approach means we Brits never get exposed to the frankly ludicrous costs of any form or medicine or medical procedure. There is, after all, a reason drug companies return eye-watering profits each year.

It’s just the relentless manner in which modern day vets seek to extract cash that grates.

My father is still reeling from being charged hundreds of pounds for an X-ray on his cat which proved only that it didn’t have any injury and that she was pretty much back to normal 24 hours later. But he’d do anything for his moggy. And that’s the point.

We have a rather old little dog with a heart condition. We shell out more than £30 a month on a healthcare plan for her. And the same again on an insurance policy. Not cheap.

But if we didn’t, the initial consultation – at our local surgery – alone would cost an eye-watering, surely-you’re-not-serious £73. Follow-ups, a mere £4 cheaper.

Even if nothing was wrong with your pet, that’s the sharp end of £150.

A recent heart scan set us back £360 and on top of which they bolt on the cost of a small bowl of food they offer her. Nothing here is free. I am assuming, given the cost, it wasn’t a tin of Pedigree Chum.

Then it’s £80 a month for tablets to treat the condition.

Yet it transpires if you simply get a prescription from them (more money, natch), you can buy the same tablets for £13 a month online. Yes, £67 cheaper.

Good of them to highlight that, you might think, but why charge such premium rates in the first place? If I can source the tablets on line for a mere fraction of the cost, why can’t they for in-house customers?

It’s like shopping in an airport gift shop. They know you forgot to get your loved ones a gift – so take this bar of Toblerone for £9 (double what it would cost you if you just popped into Asda on the way home).

The vets know you don’t want your little furry friend to suffer…but they also know that means you’re going to cough up big bucks to prevent it.

So you stand there as they add up the bill. Adding on the cost of a plaster or when a nurse stroked them (I joke, but it wouldn’t actually surprise me).

Then you try not to pass out when you hand over your bank card – just in front of signs which inform you you’re to cough up before you leave (or, presumably, they set the (healthy) dogs on you). Safe in the knowledge your insurance policy includes such a significant excess charge you’ll be lucky to claw back £100.

If you’re fortunate enough to be able to absorb this sort of cost without breaking down in tears, I salute you and your financial stability. But for most people, that’s an enormous financial burden on top of everything else life throws at us.

And pets are, let’s not forget, like family members. Albeit ones which occasionally crap on the floor.

‘Don’t have a dog if you can’t afford the costs’, I’m sure some will say. What about ‘why do veterinary practices, portraying themselves as caring units, seek to rip off their customers by playing on their emotions?’.

I’ll leave that with you. I’m off to stroke my poorly dog.