Andrew White brings his four-legged friends Oliver and Amore to his neighborhood Petco in San Diego for a little take out. 

He's brought the pair to a kibble re-fill station that allows owners to use their own containers. 

"Less waste and it's more affordable for everyone," he said of the arrangement.  

Like many things these days, inflation has hit the price of owning a pet. A report on petfoodindustry.com finds the cost of feeding household animals was up about 6% in March over last year.  

The overall pet category saw a 7.5% increase compared to March of 2021. 

The pet food maker Canidae says its kibble dispenser is one way to save money. Four pounds from a station like the one White uses is $9 cheaper than buying it in a bag. 

"It costs a lot of money to fill my gas tank, so if I can save a few bucks on items like this it's very helpful," he said. 

The American Pet Products Association says a record $123.6 billion was spent in the U.S. last year on pets.  

A pandemic-related ownership surge means 70% of American households now include a pet of some kind. 

In Kansas City, the KC Pet Project is seeing animals surrendered due to financial burdens. That includes rising rents that are squeezing budgets or making it hard to find new places to live that will accept pets. 

"It has just been relentless with the amount of pets coming in through our doors," said KC Pet Project Chief Communications Officer Tori Fugate. "People are calling us every week saying, 'I don't want to give up my animal, but I can't find a place to live with them.'"

One big cost is vet care. The KC Pet Project gave out more than $96,000 last year to help owners with medical bills.  

The Pet Products Association says owners spent about $34.3 billion on medical care for their animals in 2021, which is the second-highest annual expense after food. 

"We found that some practices are charging four, even five times more than their nearby competitors, right? For the exact same procedures. You know, neutering a cat and a dog, lab analysis, teeth cleaning, these types of procedures, five times as much," said Consumers' Checkbook Executive Editor Kevin Brasler. 

Recent findings from Consumers Checkbook showed costs varied widely from veterinarian to veterinarian in seven cities they sampled. So they say if you want to save money, do some checking first.

"If you know that your pets are going to need certain procedures, you can call around and get prices pretty easily," Brasler continued. "You could call around and get prices for teeth clean, for example, it's a snap. I mean, we found no problems doing that."

In Florida, the Tampa Humane Society has expanded its animal pantry so folks can get free food for their dogs and cats. So far, they've given out more than 130,000 pounds of animal food. 

"Hopefully things will get better," said Sherry Silk, CEO of The Humane Society of Tampa Bay. "It's got to get better because the animals really need us."

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California lawmakers could soon ban the declawing of cats solely for the convenience of humans, advancing a bill on Thursday to halt what animal rights activists say is a painful procedure used primarily to prevent torn furniture and scratched skin.

Claws on cats grow from the bone, not skin. Removing them sometimes requires amputating bones, while other procedures sever tendons to prevent a cat from extending its claws.

Related video above: California woman mistakenly takes baby fox home thinking it was a kitten

Animal rights activists have long said declawing is inhumane when done solely for the benefit of humans, arguing the procedure is painful, leaves the animal defenseless and can cause other health problems.

The American Veterinary Medical Association “discourages declawing as an elective procedure," saying it is not medically necessary in most cases. But the association says it is sometimes necessary “when a cat's excessive or inappropriate scratching behavior causes an unacceptable risk of injury or remains destructive."

The bill that passed the state Assembly on Thursday would ban declawing except for a medically necessary purpose of addressing a recurring infection, disease, injury or abnormal condition that affects the cat's health. The bill specifically bans declawing “for a cosmetic or aesthetic purpose or to make the cat more convenient to keep or handle.”

The California Veterinary Medical Association says that ignores situations where cat owners are “taking blood thinners, receiving immunosuppression drugs, or other persons whose health would be endangered by a severe scratch.”

In a letter to lawmakers, the association wrote that the veterinary industry has “appropriately regulated itself regarding this procedure over the years, and continues to do so in a thoughtful and compassionate manner.”

The bill now heads to the state Senate.

New York was the first state to ban the procedure in 2019, followed by Maryland earlier this year. This is at least the fourth time California lawmakers have tried to ban declawing since 2018. All of the previous attempts failed.

Eight California cities — including Los Angeles and San Francisco — ban declawing. In 2008, California lawmakers passed a law that would have stopped local governments from banning declawing. But the bill never became law because then Republican Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger vetoed it.

Thursday, a majority of lawmakers in the California Assembly appeared eager to ban the procedure statewide. Democratic Assemblywoman Wendy Carrillo, the author of the bill, quoted primatologist Jane Goodall in saying that “cruelty is the worst of human sins.”

Democratic Assemblymember Alex Lee talked about his cat, Soba, saying it would be “heartbreaking to know cats like her would be declawed.”

“If a cat has essentially their finger bones taken out, their only defense becomes their teeth,” Lee said. “And having had many loving bites from my cat, I would rather be scratched than bitten by my own cat.”

PHILADELPHIA, Pa. — Deniece Young's cat, Mr. Moe, looks pretty good for a 20-year-old.

"Check this out! He has his own water bottle in our refrigerator,” she said. "And there he is – healthy now."

More than a companion, Mr. Moe is part of Young’s family.

"He's my world. He greets me when I come home,” she said. “My husband has passed away. So, it's just Mr. Moe and I."

On this day, though, they’re not alone. They're getting a visit from a group consistently making the rounds in her neighborhood.

The team knocking on her door is with "Pets for Life," a program from the Humane Society of the United States.

They work in 43 states across the country, to get pet care to places where people experience poverty or lack access to veterinary care.

"Just like there are 'food deserts,' there are 'pet resource deserts' and 'veterinary deserts' – and, oftentimes, the two overlap," said Pets for Life senior director Amanda Arrington.

That is where the Pets for Life teams come in, bringing supplies and arranging vet care.

"Just about every community in the country - whether it is urban, whether it's suburban, rural, Native - has pockets where there are concentrations of poverty and little to no access to pet resources,” Arrington said.

On this day, Melissa Corey and her team went door-to-door in one such community: North Philadelphia.

"We are going to one of our clients, Jessica Preston. Jessica is what we call a community ambassador,” she said, "and then she also is there to assist her neighbors with spaying and neutering a lot of cats in her neighborhood."

Preston and her daughter are currently caring for a number of kittens, hoping to find them homes.

"Anyone comes across cats, they come to me," Preston said. "If I can, I'm going to do it. I help. I take them in. I thank God I have the Pets for Life."

It’s a sentiment shared by Paul Diaz. One of his three small dogs is facing a serious illness.

"When I have a concern about whatever she's going through, I know Melissa's there, so I can ask her or the team, so they can guide me," Diaz said.

It’s a journey the teams share with pet owners.

"It's a package deal,” Corey said. “You know, you can't have the person without the pet. You can't have the pet without the person."

During the past 12 years, Pets for Life has helped more than 265,000 pets and just recently completed its one-millionth service.

"People will do anything for their pet, even putting their pets needs above their own," Arrington said.

It's the people they meet, though, that drives what they do.

"Everyone that you meet is so grateful for everything, you know,” said Sely Cumba, as she drove the Pets for Life van to another home. “Even if it's if it's a small bag of treats - they are so grateful."

They are treats that Deniece Young’s car Mr. Moe is happily partaking in, which makes her happy, too.

"Knowing someone needs you,” she said, “he's my someone."

To find the Pets for Life team operating in your area, click here.

KANSAS CITY, Mo. —

Most animal shelters admit it's easier to get dogs adopted than cats.

Wayside Waifs in Kansas City did something this week that not only got international attention but also found several felines a forever home.

Sometimes you really have to think outside of the box to get animals adopted or, in this case, take to social media.

Wayside Waifs posted a lighthearted video on TikTok with the simple intention of showing off some of their cats up for adoption.

The simple video got more than one million views. Thanks to that video, all but two of the cats were adopted.

"It was actually something that one of our feline care technicians thought of. What kind of animal likes people? What kind of animal would wanna snuggle with the other kittens?” Casey Waugh with Wayside Waifs said.

The goal was to get these shelter cats some attention. They had no idea just how much response they’d get.

"The dogs are sometimes easier, you know, to make TikToks about things like that, but we’ve got lots of different personalities,” Humane Educator Amy Putman said.

Those personalities are now a worldwide hit.

"We have comments from Brazil and the Philippines and the UK, all these amazing places," Waugh said.

Wayside Waifs said they still have plenty of animals to adopt. They’ll be looking to come up with more fun ways to get that done in their next video.

It looks like the Louisville Metro Animal Services' "Empty the Shelter" event was a big success.

According to LMAS officials, all 100 pets in last weekend's event were adopted.

Of the pets, 59 were cats and 41 were dogs.

The very last pet to get adopted was a good boy named Gorilla Glue. He technically got adopted first thing Monday morning, just after the event, but he was the only one left, so his fee was still waived.

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That dog spent 70 days in the shelter before finding his forever family.

The "Empty the Shelter" event was one of nearly 200 that happened around the country in partnership with BISSELL allowing for free adoptions.

While the event is over, here's a reminder that it’s always free for approved adopters to adopt adult dogs 40lbs. and up, and cats 6 months or older. Spay/neuter, microchip and vaccinations are included.

LMAS also offers free barn cat adoptions to approved adopters. For more info about LMAS adoptions visit https://louisvilleky.gov/animal-services.

Related video: Vets backlogged, weary from COVID pet boom

Madison Vollbracht says she burned out after five years working as a veterinary technician.

Her work was already grueling before the COVID-19 pandemic.

But the pandemic sparked a dramatic increase in pet adoptions, "COVID puppies and kittens," as Vollbracht calls them, as well as a rise in inquiries about pet care, which greatly increased the workload.

Also, the mandatory lockdowns forced many people out of work, which meant some owners could no longer afford care for their pets, and in some cases, had to surrender or euthanize them.

The effects of the pandemic took a toll on Vollbracht. The vet tech says she "had more anxiety and depression than joy from the job," even after changing clinics.

"There were a couple of days where everything was dying," she says. "And it was around Christmastime. It was my first Christmas working emergency and it also happened (during) the pandemic and I had only discharged one patient that day. Everything else had been euthanized. And that was my, 'I'm kind of done with this' day. I euthanized 16 patients that day."

That holiday season in 2020, she realized she'd had enough, and is now a veterinary assistant instructor at the Pima Medical Institute.

Approximately half of all vet techs burn out of the profession within their first five years and 35% of them burn out altogether.

Rise in adoptions strain veterinary clinics

Inquiries about pet adoptions increased 70% between March 2020 and March 2021, according to Petfinder.com spokeswoman Lorie Westhoff. And an ASPCA survey released in May 2021 shows that 90% of dogs and 85% of cats adopted during the pandemic were kept by their owners.

Millennials and Gen Zers are also adopting pets at higher rates than their predecessors, says Mark Cushing, a founding partner and the CEO of the Animal Policy Group. Because baby boomers are adopting fewer pets as they grow older, millennials and Gen Z adults now make up half of all pet owners, he says.

"Millennials, last year where they had or got one dog, they got two or had one dog and thought a cat might be fun," he says. "People who are into it, they know how much fun it is and want to have a playmate for their pet when they go back to work."

While an increase in pet adoptions is generally a good thing, it also means that veterinarians and vet techs have to see more patients, field more calls from pet owners, which sometimes result in delayed visits and care. Dr. Douglas Kratt, president of the American Veterinary Medical Association, tells CNN that a recent AVMA survey found that the average number of patients a veterinarian saw per hour was 25% lower in 2020 than in prior years, which means clients are waiting longer before their animals can be seen.

"This has also resulted in an increase in client wait times — our current data indicate an average 20-minute wait in 2020, up from 11 minutes in 2019," Kratt says. "While the amount of time it takes to see each patient has increased, total veterinary visits in the United States do not appear to have gone up — according to national data compiled by the AVMA and VetSuccess, the number of veterinary visits in the United States was about the same in 2020 as compared with 2019."

That number has remained about the same not because fewer people are trying to see their veterinarians; rather, it's because there aren't enough veterinarians to meet client demand. Dr. Karl Jandrey, associate dean for Admissions and Student Programs at the University of California, Davis, who also practices as an emergency critical care specialist, says that people working from home means they're seeing problems with their pets that they wouldn't have normally noticed, leading to more calls with concern. It also means the shortage of veterinarians and vet techs has led to a need to stop taking new clients and squeezing others in.

"(You go from) not having enough prior — veterinarians and technicians — to even worse during the pandemic, where everyone else has to work harder and more," he says. "Instead of having your average emergency shift, one patient every half-hour, you now have four every hour you're trying to deliver care to. Something's gotta give, right?"

Where are all the vet techs?

Andrew Maccabe, CEO of the American Association of Veterinary Medical Colleges, says that applications to graduate veterinary medicine programs increased by 19% this past cycle compared to the previous year. But for veterinary technicians, the promise of an enriching career is not as apparent, despite only requiring two years of schooling, and even less in some states.

Jennifer Serling, president-elect of the Association of Veterinary Technician Educators, tells CNN that 35% of all vet techs eventually "burn out," while Cushing says that half of them leave the profession within five years. Vet tech educational retention is also down about five to 10%, Serling says, which she believes is "directly related to the pandemic."

Cushing says that inadequate pay often leads vet techs to leave the profession. On average, he says, veterinary technicians are paid $32,000 a year, which is "close to the poverty level" in some parts of the country. That can be as much as half the starting salary of a registered nurse in human medicine, Serling adds.

Vollbracht tells CNN her highest pay as a vet tech "started with a $16" per hour and there were times when there were more veterinarians in her clinic's emergency room floor than vet techs themselves.

"What started my burnout was really the money aspect and always being constrained with what we can do treatment-wise based on owners' financial situations," she says. "(I would go over) treatment plans and estimates with owners but (was) being constantly told 'no' or being belittled and berated for requiring such costs, in advance or at all, for certain things to be done and then not being able to do those things because they couldn't be afforded."

In addition to being underpaid, vet techs are also underutilized. Cushing says that half of vet technicians' learned skills are often ignored, leading to decreased morale as veterinarians' working dynamics with vet techs can be less delegated and collaborative than those in human hospitals and clinics.

"I'll say publicly, if you chronically underpay someone, they'll be looking to leave," he says.

"If you're trained to do it all and only do half, and you're told by a veterinarian, 'I'll do the rest,' you create a morale issue that is systemic across the profession."

Serling points out that vet techs, unlike RNs and physician assistants, are responsible for providing care to "multiple species that can't talk and tell us what's wrong." Unlike a hospital or a doctor's office, which has specialty nurses and assistants for everything, veterinary technicians are required to do it all, and then some.

"We have the same training as an RN," she says. "It's not just the same things as them but anesthesia, radiology, (etc.). We do a lot of the human components of medicine combined into multiple species, so utilizing us fully is a huge plus to the practice (of veterinary medicine)."

That ubiquitous involvement in end-of-life care, which is more specialized in human medicine, also takes its toll.

"It's both a blessing and a curse in that we can end our patients' suffering with euthanasia but that does weigh heavily on the individuals and can be incredibly mentally taxing," Serling says. "Early on, we get into this because it is a labor of love, not one we'll get rich at doing. You love your patients, love animals and want to help them. When you get that emotionally attached and driven into this field, that can also be mentally taxing as well."

Serling also points out that pet insurance is often not used, meaning that the expenses that hospitals and health care practices can largely bill to insurance companies have to be absorbed by the veterinary clinics, if not billed to the clients themselves.

"Until we're able to charge appropriately for the services we're providing, it's going to be difficult for clinics and some vets (to afford their expenses)," she says. "Veterinarian salaries and the cost of all that, even that is significantly less than their MD counterparts. There's a lot of catch-up to do so we're earning what we deserve."

How the field is trying to adapt

Maccabe says that one of the biggest causes for the perception, or reality, of a workforce shortage, is the inefficiencies caused by the pandemic. COVID-19 infection control procedures have slowed the ability of veterinarians and their health care teams to handle caseloads, and in a field that has long relied on direct, in-person care, it has caused extended waits on top of the added influx of pets.

On the educational side, Maccabe says that many virtual programs offering models and simulations for students to practice on have eased the burden the pandemic has placed on training future veterinarians. So, what are veterinary clinics doing? Some of them have adopted telehealth policies for visits in order to alleviate the burden caused by waiting for in-person care.

"With video conferencing available, even when people were taking their animals to clinics, they oftentimes had to drop the animal off, get a phone call or video call to see what the vet saw, right?" he says. "(For) how much of that did the animal need to be transported, whereas some could have been done at home? So that's where I think every crisis like (the pandemic) drives innovation."

Cushing says that veterinary medicine is a conservative field and that, on the whole, vets "don't welcome change." He says the field is about 25 years behind human medicine in terms of delegation of tasks and proper use of staff.

Some schools, such as Lincoln Memorial University, are starting to institute a middle ground master's degree, akin to a nurse practitioner, that would allow for positive movement up the ladder. Cushing says it would help vet techs who may still not want to attend or can't afford the schooling required to obtain a veterinary medicine degree to advance their careers.

The rewards aren't just financial for veterinary professionals. Private equity firms are investing more money into veterinary clinics, Cushing says, after seeing how lucrative the field is. In order for them to feel like they can get a proper return on their investments, they want to see additional outlets to prevent the staff they're invested in from burning out.

Serling says some of the improvements can take place in how clients approach their visits with veterinary staff.

"I think that owners do need to understand there are some incredible wait times right now," she says. "It can be difficult to get appointments. Usually, surgeries can be scheduled within a couple of weeks, so two months out is very unusual."

Generally speaking, though, Serling says revenue remains high enough that there should be enough money to go around to pay vet techs a higher salary.

"I think an increase in pay is the number one thing and I think technician utilization is the other," she says. "I think training veterinarians to utilize us and our education (is key). There's an AVMA study that says for every credentialed technician, they bring about a $90,000 to $100,000 increase in revenue per year. So utilizing us to the best of our ability (would change things)."

Maccabe says that despite the stresses of the pandemic, he believes necessary changes and progress in the field are on the horizon.

"I'm very optimistic about the future," he says. "I think that as challenging as this last year and a half has been, not just for our community but society in general, ... it has driven some changes to have a long-lasting impact to improve quality of teaching, care, and access in a way that might have been delayed or postponed for many years if not for this pandemic."