IT should have been an open and shut case, if you pardon the pun.

It was a relatively simple matter.

A nice, amiable big dog.

A nasty, bleeding cut pad; the all too common result of part of society’s current preoccupation with avoiding recycling bottles by simply dropping them at their feet, stupidly smashing them on the cycle path, or lazily lobbing them into the bushes.

But there was a problem. The owner had packed his bags and gone off on holiday, leaving his friendly, obliging neighbour to care for his dog.

It was an informal arrangement that had worked well for years, especially since it was duly reciprocated when it was the neighbour’s turn to go away. A symbiotic relationship, if ever there was one.

But there was a snag. A technical hitch. When presented with our standard and quite necessary consent form for anaesthesia, it dawned on the neighbour that they had never discussed what they should do in an emergency.

Did he have the authority to sign the document on the owner’s behalf? Who was going to be legally liable for the cost of treatment? (For the record, our ‘contract’ is actually with the person who requests the treatment and not, therefore, necessarily the owner, although most veterinary surgeons will try and apply common sense to these situations.)

And, of course, what if something went wrong and the patient did not recover as well as expected?

All in all, this kind of stuff is not really what you want to have to think about when your car is already covered in blood, the dog you are responsible for is bleeding everywhere and your heart rate is rising.

Fortunately, on this occasion, the owner was well known to us and we were confident he would want us to go ahead and treat his dog as if he was our own. And that is what we did.

The neighbour signed the consent form as the ‘owner’s agent’. The owner settled his account gratefully on his return from abroad and the wound healed uneventfully. All’s well that ends well, as they say.

But it got me thinking. There are many circumstances when this sort of dilemma can occur. Sometimes, owners return and resolutely refuse to pay for treatment, knowing that the law, if not morality, is on their side.

Occasionally, they will complain about the treatment given, claiming it is not exactly what (with the obvious benefit of hindsight) they would have decided.

Often, regular clients will phone me before they travel and ask that their pet be given any treatment that, in my opinion, is required while they are away.

A note of this call can be put in the animal’s record. Alternatively, clear, written, signed instructions can be left with the animal’s carer, in case of emergency, stating that the carer can authorise treatment and confirming how payment might be made.

The elderly and infirm might also consider lodging such written instructions with the practice or their lawyer. A simple letter and some fore thought can save an awful lot of soul searching.