This page is not veterinary advice. Paw Multiverse is not a veterinary practice. We cannot examine, diagnose or treat your animal, and nothing on this page tells you how to treat anything. There are no medicines here, no doses, no home remedies, no first aid technique and no instruction to give an animal any substance whatsoever - on purpose. This is a preparation page. Its only job is to help you write down, calmly and in advance, the information a veterinary professional will ask you for, so that you can hand it over instead of trying to remember it.
The medication and vaccination sections are records, not guidance. Where this page asks you to write down a medicine or a vaccination, it is asking you to transcribe what a veterinary professional has already prescribed or already given, from their own paperwork, exactly as written. It is never asking you to choose anything, change anything, start anything, stop anything or work anything out. If you are unsure what a line on your own paperwork means, the answer is to ask the practice that wrote it.
If something is happening right now, stop reading and phone. A folder is for the calm evening before. If you are in the middle of an emergency, go to Before You Call the Vet, Is This an Emergency? or Find an Emergency Vet and make the call. Come back and build the folder afterwards, because there will be an afterwards, and there will very probably be a next time.
It is the middle of the night. The dog has eaten something, or the cat has stopped moving properly, or a wound will not stop, and you are standing in the hall with the phone against your ear and the animal on the floor behind you. A calm voice on the other end asks you four questions in a row.
How much does he weigh? When was he last treated for parasites, and what with? Is he on any medication? Do you have insurance, and does your policy need us to phone them before we start?
You know all four answers. You knew them last Tuesday. Right now you cannot produce a single one of them, because the part of your brain that stores ordinary facts has gone offline and handed the controls to the part that is watching your animal. So you guess at the weight, you say you think it was some kind of spot-on thing, you say you will have to look for the policy, and every one of those non-answers costs the person on the phone something they needed.
This page is the fix, and the fix is embarrassingly low-technology. It is a folder. Paper, in a place everybody in the house knows about, photographed to your phone so it exists when you are not at home. You fill it in on an ordinary evening when nothing is wrong, which is the only time anybody is capable of filling it in, and then it sits there being boring until the one night it is the most useful object you own.
What follows is the whole system: what goes on each page of the folder, why each item is on there rather than some other item, what a veterinary professional actually does with it, and - the part most checklists skip - what happens when that particular line is blank. At the bottom there is a printable fill-in pack. Print it, fill it in with a pen, and you are done.
It is: a preparation and record-keeping system. A structure for information you already have or can easily get, so that it is in one place, in a form somebody else can read, at the moment you cannot speak in full sentences.
It is not: a medical page. Nothing here tells you what is wrong with an animal, what to do about it, what to give it, how much of anything, or when to worry. Every single road on this page ends at the same place, which is a conversation with a veterinary professional who can actually see your animal.
It contains no numbers you could mistake for advice. No doses, no weights that mean anything, no intervals, no thresholds, no prices, no product names, no insurer names, no dates. The blanks are for your animal’s numbers, taken from your animal’s own paperwork.
Why a folder beats a memory
The argument for doing this is not that you are forgetful. It is that stress does a specific, well-known thing to recall, and that the information a veterinary team needs is exactly the kind of information stress takes away first.
Under acute stress the brain prioritises. It keeps hold of what is in front of it - the animal, the room, the sound it is making - and it drops the arbitrary. Arbitrary is precisely what a microchip number is. Arbitrary is a policy reference, a product name on a small cardboard box you threw away, a date written on a card in a drawer. These are not memories with a story attached; they are strings, and strings are the first thing to go.
So the folder is not a confession of a bad memory. It is an acknowledgement that the moment you need these facts is the one moment you are structurally incapable of producing them. Writing them down in advance is not admin. It is the difference between a phone call that moves forward and a phone call that stalls.
The four questions that stall a call
Ask anybody who answers an out-of-hours line what slows a call down and you get the same short list, in roughly the same order.
- Weight. Almost everything a veterinary professional might do is scaled to the animal’s body. Without a weight, the conversation cannot progress past general reassurance, and reassurance is not what you phoned for. A guess is worse than useless, because a guess sounds like a fact.
- What has already gone into the animal. Not just medicines. The flea or worm product applied at the weekend, the new food started last week, the supplement somebody in the house has been adding to the bowl. Any of these can matter, and none of them is memorable under pressure because none of them felt like an event at the time.
- Existing conditions and past reactions. An animal that has had a bad reaction to something before is a different animal, clinically, from one that has not. If that fact lives only in your head and your head has stopped working, it may as well not exist.
- Money and permission. Whether you are insured, whether your policy wants a phone call before anything starts, and how much you are prepared to authorise. These are not comfortable questions but they arrive early, and answering them badly at the counter is how people end up making decisions they did not mean to make.
Every one of those four is a folder page. That is not a coincidence - the folder is built backwards from the questions.
The folder is for other people too
Here is the part that persuades people who are not persuaded by the emergency argument. You are not the only person who might need this.
The neighbour who has your key and finds the dog unwell while you are at work. The friend who agreed to feed the cat and cannot remember whether it gets one scoop or two. The relative who has to take over at no notice because you are the one in hospital. A house-sitter who has never met this animal. In every one of those cases the folder is not backup for your memory; it is the only copy of the information that exists outside your head.
This is why the folder is written for a stranger. Not shorthand, not initials, not “the usual place”. A sentence a person who has never been in your house could follow.
Why paper, in an age of phones
Because paper does not have a battery, a lock screen, a signal requirement or a cloud account somebody else is logged into. Because a piece of paper can be handed across a counter, and a phone cannot be handed across a counter while you are also using it to phone somebody. Because a paper copy on the fridge is visible to a person who is in your kitchen without you.
But paper alone fails in the other direction: paper is at home, and emergencies are not always at home. So the answer is both. Paper on the fridge or in the drawer everybody knows about, and a photograph of every page on your phone, in an album you can find without scrolling. That is the whole redundancy strategy and it takes a couple of minutes.
If you already print things for the fridge, the site has a short one-page version for exactly that purpose: the Pet Emergency Pack printable fridge sheet, which carries the emergency numbers, the never-let-them-eat-this list and the red flags on a single sheet. That page is the summary. This page is the full folder, and the two are meant to be used together - the sheet on the fridge door, the folder in the drawer beneath it.
What “prepared” buys you, concretely
- A phone call that gets to the useful part faster, because the person on the other end is not extracting facts from you one at a time.
- Fewer wrong answers. Guessed weights and half-remembered product names are actively misleading, and a written record replaces them with something checkable.
- A handover that works. Anybody who can read can take over the animal’s care from the folder.
- Decisions made in a kitchen instead of a corridor. The money page and the decisions page exist so that the hardest choices are considered when you are calm, not sprung on you at a desk.
- Less guilt afterwards. A great deal of the distress people carry after an emergency is not about the outcome; it is about the feeling that they were disorganised at the worst possible moment.
THE PET EMERGENCY FOLDER, DRAWN AS AN OBJECT
+-------------------------------------------------------------+
| ONE FOLDER / ONE ANIMAL / KEPT WHERE EVERYBODY KNOWS |
+-------------------------------------------------------------+
|
+---------------------+---------------------+
| | |
THE CORE FOUR THE HARD THREE THE HANDOVER
(asked on every (asked when the (used when you
single call) news is bad) are not there)
| | |
+----+----+ +-----+-----+ +-----+-----+
| | | | | |
[1] [2] [5] [6] [7] [8]
IDENTITY WEIGHT MONEY CONSENT & DAILY GO-BAG
| | | DECISIONS CARE |
[3] [4] | | | |
MEDICAL CONTACTS | | | |
| | | | | |
+----+----+-----------+-----------+---------+-----------+
|
+---------+---------+
| |
PAPER COPY PHONE COPY
on the fridge photographed,
or in the drawer one album,
everybody knows no scrolling
| |
+---------+---------+
|
[9] REVIEW TRIGGERS
after a vet visit
after a move
after a weight change
after a change of people
RULE OF THE OBJECT
------------------
If it only exists in your head, it does not exist.
If it only exists on your phone, it does not exist
for the person standing in your kitchen without you.
If it only exists on paper at home, it does not exist
for you in a car park at the other end of the country.
So: both copies, always, and neither one is optional.
Building it: paper, phone, and the copy somebody else can find
Before the content, the container. This takes one evening and then almost never needs touching again, which is the whole appeal.
What the folder physically is
A plastic wallet, a ring binder, a large envelope taped inside a cupboard door, a section of a household file - the object does not matter. Three properties matter.
- It is in one place, and that place is obvious. Not “somewhere in the kitchen”. A named drawer, a named shelf, a named hook. Say it out loud to everybody in the house until it is boring.
- It does not need you to open it. No password, no locked box, no “it’s in my email”. A person who is not you must be able to get to it while you are unreachable.
- It is obviously the pet folder from the outside. A label on the front. In an emergency people do not read; they scan. Big word, front cover.
The two-copy rule
One paper copy, one phone copy, and they are not alternatives. The paper copy is for people in your house who are not you. The phone copy is for you when you are not in your house. They fail in opposite directions, which is exactly why you need both.
Make the phone copy the boring way: photograph each completed page, straight on, in decent light, and put the photographs in one album with a name you would think of while panicking. Then check it. Open your phone, find the album, read the weight off the photograph. If that took more than a moment, fix the album, not your memory.
The third copy, which most people skip
Give a copy to the person who has your key. Not the whole folder necessarily - at minimum the identity page, the contacts page and the daily-care page. If your animal is going to be looked after by somebody else in an emergency, that person needs the information before the emergency, because handing it over during one is a step nobody has time for.
If that feels like an imposition, remember what you are actually asking: you are asking them to be able to help, rather than to stand in your kitchen phoning you and getting no answer.
Fill it in with a pen
There is a real argument for handwriting this rather than typing it. A typed document lives on a device, gets a version problem, and quietly becomes out of date because updating it means finding the file. A handwritten card gets crossed out and rewritten in ten seconds, which means it actually gets updated. The printable pack at the bottom of this page is designed to be written on and then re-printed when a card gets too messy to read.
Write it so a stranger can read it. Print letters for anything that is a string of characters - the microchip number, the policy reference - because a misread digit in a chip number is the same as no chip number at all.
Do it in the right order
Some of these pages you can complete from memory in a minute. Others need a document you have to go and find, or a phone call to your practice in working hours. So do the easy ones first and get the momentum, then make one list of the things you have to look up.
The order that works: identity, then weight, then contacts, then daily care - all of which you can do this evening. Then medical and money, which usually need paperwork. Then consent and decisions, which need a conversation with the other adults in the house and should not be rushed. Then the go-bag, which is a physical job rather than a writing job.
The completeness tracker further down this page exists for exactly this. Tick off the sections as you finish them so that a half-built folder does not quietly become a permanently half-built folder.
Page one - identity: who this animal actually is
This is the page people assume is trivial and then discover is not. It answers the question which animal is this in a way that survives you not being there to answer it.
It matters in three separate situations, and they are more common than you would like. When somebody else takes your animal to a practice. When an animal is lost and somebody else has found it. And when a practice that has never seen your animal has to open a record from scratch while you stand there unable to remember what year he was born.
Name, and the name it answers to
Write the animal’s name as it appears on the practice record, and then, separately, what you actually call it. These are often not the same. A dog registered as one thing and called something else entirely will not respond to a stranger using the registered name, and a person trying to coax a frightened animal out from under a car needs the word that works.
Add the words it reliably responds to besides its name. The word for food. The word for the lead. The noise you make when you want it to come. This is not sentimentality; it is a tool for somebody who has to catch your animal without you.
Species, breed or type, and why “type” is the honest word
Species first, because it is not always as obvious to a system as it is to you, and because so much depends on it. Then breed if the animal has a documented one, and type if it does not.
Most animals are not pedigree animals, and inventing a breed for a rescue dog because a form has a box for it is a small lie that can travel a long way. “Medium crossbreed, terrier type, wire coat” is more useful to somebody who has to identify an animal than a guessed breed name, and it is honest. If you genuinely do not know, write that you do not know. Where breed genuinely does change how an animal is handled or how an operator treats it, your practice will already know and will have it on record.
If you are still choosing an animal rather than recording one, the breed selector quiz is a better place to think about type than a folder page.
Age and date of birth, and the difference between them
Write the date of birth if you know it. Write the age if you do not, and mark it as an estimate, with the date on which the estimate was made - because an estimated age is a moving target and an undated one becomes wrong without anybody noticing.
For a rescue animal, the practice usually estimated an age at the first examination. Use theirs, note that it is theirs, and note when they made it. For an animal you have had from the start, the date of birth is a fixed fact and belongs on the card as a fact.
Age changes how an animal is approached, which is why it is asked for so early. Life stage also changes what routine care looks like, and the site has a life-stage view of that in how often to take your dog to the vet and in senior dog care. If you want the human-years translation for your own curiosity rather than for the folder, the pet age calculator does it.
Sex and neuter status, recorded as a fact from the record
Four possibilities, and the folder should say which one plainly: male, male neutered, female, female neutered. Add the approximate date of the procedure if you have it on paperwork.
This is a straightforward record item, but it is one of the most frequently wrong lines on informal notes, usually because somebody wrote the card before the procedure and never came back to it. It changes assumptions, so it is worth getting right and worth correcting the moment it changes.
Colour, coat and distinguishing marks
Describe the animal the way a stranger would have to. Base colour, pattern, coat length and texture, then the specific things: the white patch on one foot, the notch in an ear, the scar, the two different-coloured eyes, the crooked tail, the way one ear sits.
The reason this belongs on an emergency page and not just a lost-pet page is that it is the fastest way to confirm that the animal in front of somebody is the animal in the record. “Black and white cat” describes an enormous number of cats. “Black and white cat, white chin, white front feet, black smudge on the right side of the nose, tip missing from the left ear” describes one.
If you ever do need it for a lost animal, the lost pet poster tool turns this description into something you can put up in an afternoon - but only if you wrote the description down while you could still think.
The microchip number, and the part everybody gets wrong
Write the chip number down, in print, digit by digit, and then write down which registry it is held with and the account or contact details that registry has for you.
Here is the thing that makes this the most commonly broken link in the whole chain: implanting a chip and registering a chip are two different events. The implant is permanent. The registration is a database entry with your phone number and your address in it, and that entry goes stale the moment you move house, change your number, change your email or change your name. An animal with a chip that scans to an out-of-date entry is, functionally, an animal with no chip at all. Somebody scans it, phones a number that no longer rings, and the trail stops.
- Find the chip number: it is on the implant paperwork, on the practice record, and usually on the vaccination card. If you cannot find it anywhere, ask your practice to scan the animal and read it to you, and write it down while they are speaking.
- Identify which registry the chip sits on. The implant paperwork usually names it. If it does not, your practice can normally tell you from the number itself, and there are national lookup services in many countries that will tell you which database holds a given chip.
- Log in to that registry, or phone them, and read your own record back to yourself. Phone number. Second phone number. Address. Email. Name.
- Fix anything that is wrong, and note on the folder card the date you last checked it.
- If you have more than one animal, do them all in the same sitting. They will not all be on the same registry, and assuming they are is how one of them ends up unfindable.
- Record a second contact on the registry if it allows one - somebody who will answer if you do not.
This is a task, not a piece of advice, and it takes one evening. It is the single highest-value thing on this whole page for an animal that goes outdoors.
Note the chip number belongs on the folder card, not on a poster in the street. It is an identifier, and the point of an identifier is that the person who has your animal can prove it is yours by producing a number you did not publish.
Tattoo, ear marks and other identification
Some animals carry a tattoo, an ear tag, a notch or a tag with a code on it, particularly rescues and animals from certain schemes and certain countries. If yours has one, record what it is, where on the body it is, and what it means if you know. A stranger who finds a tattooed animal will not know to look unless somebody tells them, and the folder is where you tell them.
Collar tags count too. Write down what your animal’s tag actually says, because the day it comes off in a hedge is the day you will wish you had a record of the text on it. If the tag has your phone number on it, check that the number on the tag is the number you currently use. Tags outlive phone contracts.
Licence, registration and local paperwork
Some countries and some local authorities require animals to be licensed or registered, and some require it for certain species or certain types only. If that applies where you live, the reference number and the authority that issued it belong on the identity card, along with where the certificate physically is.
We are not going to tell you what your local rules are, because they differ everywhere and they change. What the site does carry is a country-level view: pet care by country, the pet care world map and pet law and travel rule changes, all of which are dated pages that get maintained. Your own authority’s website is the source that decides.
The photograph, and why a recent one is a different object from a nice one
Put a current photograph in the folder. Not the good one. The plain one.
A photograph in this folder is doing a forensic job, not a sentimental one. It needs the animal side-on, in ordinary light, filling the frame, with the distinguishing marks visible and nothing else in the shot competing for attention. Add a further photograph from the front and a close-up of any marking that identifies the animal specifically.
Recent matters more than good. Animals change: a puppy stops looking like a puppy over a season, a coat changes with clipping, an older animal greys around the face, weight changes shape. A search using a photograph from another year is a search for an animal that does not currently exist. The person looking at your poster is matching a picture against a frightened animal under a car in bad light, and every year of drift makes that harder.
This is also the reason the review section later on ties photograph updates to visible change rather than to a date. When the animal stops looking like the picture, take a new picture.
THE IDENTITY CARD, LAID OUT
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+
| IDENTITY animal 1 of ____ |
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+
| |
| NAME ON RECORD ................ CALLED ...................... |
| RESPONDS TO (words that work) ................................. |
| |
| SPECIES ...................... BREED / TYPE ................. |
| DATE OF BIRTH ................ OR AGE ...... EST. ON ....... |
| SEX .......................... NEUTERED yes / no / unknown |
| DATE OF PROCEDURE (if known) .................................. |
| |
| COLOUR / PATTERN ............................................. |
| COAT (length, texture) ....................................... |
| DISTINGUISHING MARKS ......................................... |
| .............................................................. |
| |
+--- IDENTIFICATION ----------------------------------------------+
| MICROCHIP NUMBER (print it, digit by digit) |
| [_][_][_][_][_] [_][_][_][_][_] [_][_][_][_][_] |
| REGISTRY ..................... LAST VERIFIED ................ |
| REGISTRY CONTACT ON FILE phone ....... email .............. |
| SECOND CONTACT ON REGISTRY ................................... |
| TATTOO / EAR MARK .......... WHERE ON BODY ................... |
| COLLAR TAG SAYS .............................................. |
| LICENCE / REGISTRATION No .... ISSUED BY .................... |
| CERTIFICATE IS KEPT .......................................... |
| |
+--- PHOTOGRAPH --------------------------------------------------+
| +-----------------------+ |
| | | TAKEN ON .................... |
| | side-on, plain, | MARKS VISIBLE yes / no |
| | ordinary light, | FRONT PHOTOGRAPH yes / no |
| | animal fills frame | CLOSE-UP OF MARK yes / no |
| | | |
| +-----------------------+ |
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+
THE ONE THAT BREAKS MOST OFTEN
------------------------------
chip implanted -> chip registered -> registration still current
^ ^ ^
permanent a database row goes stale silently
when you move, change
number, email or name
A chip that scans to a dead phone number is a chip that does nothing.
Page two - weight: the number you will be asked for first
If you only ever fill in one line of this entire folder, fill in this one. Weight is the most requested single fact in any veterinary conversation, and it is the one owners are least able to produce accurately under pressure.
Why weight is asked for before almost anything else
Because so much of what a veterinary professional can do is scaled to the size of the animal in front of them. Weight is the input that converts a general situation into a specific one. Without it, the person you are speaking to is working with a category instead of an animal.
It also changes urgency. The same event involving the same substance is a different conversation for a very small animal than for a very large one, and the difference between those two conversations is entirely a matter of body mass. This is exactly why the pet poison control directory asks for a weight before it will tell you anything at all, and why guessing at that field defeats the purpose of using it.
And it is a health signal in its own right. A weight that has moved without you changing anything is information. A folder that carries a short history of weights, each with a date, turns “he seems a bit thinner” into something checkable.
How to weigh an animal at home, accurately
For a small animal, the reliable method needs no special equipment: put a carrier or a box on the scales and note the reading, then put the animal in it and note the reading, then subtract. This works because you are not asking a frightened animal to stand still on a small platform, which it will not do.
For a dog too big for that, the same trick with a person: stand on the scales alone, note it, then stand on the scales holding the dog, note it, subtract. Do it on a hard floor rather than a carpet, because a soft floor makes bathroom scales lie.
For an animal too large to lift, the practice is the answer. Most practices have a walk-on platform scale in the waiting area and most are entirely relaxed about you walking in during opening hours to use it. Ask first, then make it a habit; it is also a cheap way to make the practice a neutral place rather than a place where bad things happen.
- Use the same scales every time. Two sets of scales that disagree will make a healthy animal look like it is changing.
- Weigh at the same point in the day, roughly - before a meal rather than after, or after a walk rather than before, but consistently one or the other.
- Write the number down immediately. On the card, in the same room. A weight you intend to write down later is a weight you have not recorded.
- Write the unit. A number on a card with no unit next to it is ambiguous, and ambiguity in this particular field is worse than a blank.
- Write the date next to it. Always. A weight with no date is a rumour.
How often to update it, and why a growing animal is different
For an adult animal in a settled state, a weight that gets refreshed whenever you happen to be at the practice is fine, plus any time the animal visibly changes shape or you change what it eats.
For a growing animal the picture is completely different, because the number is obsolete almost as soon as you write it. A puppy or a kitten is a different animal week to week, and a weight from earlier in its growth is not just old, it is misleading. So while an animal is growing, the weight card is a running column rather than a single line, and the top line - the most recent one - is the one anybody should read.
If you are in that phase, the puppy and kitten tracker and the puppy weight predictor are built for logging that curve, and the two first-month guides - new puppy: the first 30 days and new kitten: the first 30 days - cover what else is happening at the same time. The first eight weeks guide covers the period before that.
Body condition, which is not the same as weight
Two animals of the same species and the same weight can be in visibly different condition, and a number alone does not capture that. Practices assess condition by looking and feeling rather than by reading a scale.
For the folder, the useful thing is not for you to score anything, but to record what your practice has said about condition at the last visit, in their words, with the date. That is a record. If nobody has said anything about it, leave it blank rather than inventing an assessment.
If you want to think about the target rather than the record, the ideal weight calculator exists, and the feeding side of it is covered by the dog food calculator and the cat calorie calculator. None of those belongs in the emergency folder; they belong in the ordinary week.
What happens when the weight line is blank
The call slows down and then stalls. You get asked to estimate, you estimate badly because almost everybody estimates badly, and a bad estimate is worse than an honest “I do not know” because it gets believed. Meanwhile a dose checker cannot help you, a triage conversation cannot narrow anything down, and the answer you get is the general one: bring the animal in and we will weigh it here. Which may well be the right outcome anyway - but you have spent the time getting there instead of spending it moving.
A note on why this page holds no weights of its own. You will not find a single example weight anywhere on this page, or a range, or a “typical” figure for any species, breed or age. That is deliberate. Numbers on a page get read as guidance, and the only weight that means anything in your animal’s emergency is your animal’s own, measured, with a date on it.
Page three - medical: a record of what a vet has said and done
Read this before you fill in anything on this page. Every line in this section is a transcription. You are copying, word for word, from paperwork a veterinary professional produced: a discharge note, a prescription label, a vaccination card, a receipt, a letter. You are not deciding anything, choosing anything, converting anything, rounding anything or summarising anything into your own words. If a line on your paperwork does not make sense to you, the folder entry is the line as written plus a note that you want to ask about it. It is never your best guess at what it meant.
With that established: this is the page that changes what the person on the other end of the phone is able to say to you, because it tells them what kind of animal they are dealing with before they have seen it.
Existing conditions, written in plain words
List anything the animal has been diagnosed with and still has. Use the name your practice uses, spelled the way they spell it, and then, on the next line, a short plain-English description of what it means in daily life - because the person reading this card at four in the morning may be a neighbour rather than a clinician.
So: the condition as named on the record, then something like “means he tires quickly on walks and has a check-up every so often”. The clinical name is for the professional. The plain sentence is for whoever is holding the folder.
Include conditions that are managed and quiet, not just active ones. A well-controlled long-term condition is still a fact about the animal and still changes decisions. People leave these off because the animal seems fine, which is precisely the wrong instinct: an animal that seems fine because something is being managed is an animal whose management somebody else needs to know about.
Past surgery and procedures
What was done, roughly when, and where it was done. You do not need the clinical detail; the practice that did it holds that. What the folder needs is enough for somebody to know that the history exists and where to ask for it.
Anything with hardware left in the animal deserves its own line, in capitals if necessary. Anything that changed the anatomy deserves a line. Anything that happened under anaesthetic deserves a line, because the fact that the animal has had an anaesthetic before, and how that went, is a real piece of information.
If the animal was a rescue and the early history is unknown, write history before adoption unknown rather than leaving the section empty. An empty section reads as “nothing happened”. An explicit “unknown” reads as “nobody knows”, which is a completely different and much more useful statement.
Known adverse reactions and allergies - the highest-value lines on the card
If your animal has ever reacted badly to anything - a medicine, a food, an insect, a product, an anaesthetic, a vaccination - that fact belongs at the top of this page, not buried in the middle of it.
Write it as an event rather than as a conclusion: what the animal was exposed to, what happened, roughly when, and what the practice said about it at the time. “Reacted after X: face swelled, seen at the practice the same day, they told us to note it” is a record. “Allergic to X” is an interpretation, and interpretations drift.
Two reasons this is the highest-value block on the page. First, a known previous reaction genuinely changes what is done. Second, it is exactly the sort of fact that lives entirely in one person’s head, gets mentioned once, and then vanishes - because after it resolved, everybody relaxed.
Food reactions belong here too, described the same way, with the food named as it appeared on the packaging. If you ever change what the animal eats, do it the deliberate way described in how to switch your pet food safely, and note the change on this page.
Current medications - copied from the label, never chosen
This is a record of what has been prescribed. Nothing on this page tells you to give anything, change anything, or work anything out, and if you ever find yourself doing arithmetic while filling this in, stop, because that is not what this is.
The reliable way to fill it in is to physically go and get the packaging and copy what is printed on it:
- The name of the product exactly as printed, including the bit in brackets nobody reads.
- The strength as printed on the label.
- What the label says about how it is given and how often, copied verbatim, in the dispensing practice’s own words.
- The date it was dispensed and by whom.
- What it is for, if the label or the discharge note says so.
- Whether the course has an end point that the label states, or is ongoing.
Then take a photograph of the label itself and keep it with the folder photographs. A photograph of a dispensing label is better than any transcription, because it cannot be mistranscribed, and it settles arguments about what was actually written.
- Anything you worked out yourself. If the number is not printed on the label or written by the practice, it does not go on the card.
- Anything a friend, a forum, a video or a shop assistant suggested.
- Anything intended for a person. Human medicines are a recurring cause of serious harm to animals, and the site has a checker precisely because it happens so often: ibuprofen and paracetamol toxicity checker.
- Anything left over from a previous episode, or prescribed for a different animal, or prescribed for this animal for a different problem at another time.
- A dose you have adjusted because the animal seemed better, or worse, or bigger, or smaller.
If any of those situations is live for you right now, the folder is not the answer - the practice is. Phone them.
Add one more line at the bottom of the medication block: supplements and anything else that goes in the bowl. Things bought without a prescription still count as things that have gone into the animal, and the honest answer to “is he on anything?” includes them.
Parasite treatments, recorded as dates and product names
This is a diary, not a plan. Two columns: what was applied or given, and when. The product name copied from the packet, and the date.
It matters because it is asked for constantly and remembered almost never. These treatments are routine, unremarkable and physically small - a sachet, a pipette, a tablet in a bit of food - and the packaging goes in the bin the same day. A week later nobody in the house can say with confidence what was used or exactly when.
It also matters because it is one of the ways an animal can be exposed to something. A product intended for one species applied to another, or a product applied twice because two people in the house each thought the other had not done it, are both real events, and both are much easier to unpick when there is a written record with dates on it.
So the rule for the card is: write it down at the moment you do it, with the product name copied off the packet and the date, and keep the packet until the next entry. What the schedule should be is a conversation with your practice, and this page has no opinion on it.
Vaccination status - from the vet’s own card, with dates
Same principle. Copy from the vaccination record your practice issued: what was given, the date, and what the practice has written about when they want to see the animal next. If the record has a batch or product line on it, copy that too.
If the card is a physical booklet, the best version of this folder page is a photograph of the card itself plus one line saying where the original lives. The original is the document that counts; the folder’s job is to make sure nobody has to hunt for it.
If you have inherited an animal with an incomplete record, write record incomplete and the name of the practice most likely to hold the rest. Do not fill the gaps with assumptions.
Understanding what is on the card is a separate question from recording it, and the site covers that separately: the vaccination schedule explained, the kitten and cat vaccination schedule, and the vaccination schedule generator for keeping track. If you are travelling, requirements are their own subject entirely and sit on pet travel rules by country and travelling with your pet.
The practice that holds the full history
The last block on the medical page is a pointer rather than content: which practice holds the complete record, and what identifier they know your animal by.
This is what makes the whole page work. Your folder is a summary written by an amateur; the practice record is the real thing, written by professionals. The most valuable sentence on the medical page may simply be “full history is at this practice, under this client name, this reference”.
If the animal has been treated by more than one practice - you moved, or an out-of-hours provider saw it once, or there is a referral centre involved - list all of them, and mark which one holds the main record. Split histories are common and they are the reason clinicians ask “has the animal been seen anywhere else?”
What happens when the medical page is blank
Everything still works, just slower and more cautiously. A clinician who does not know whether an animal has reacted to something before must proceed as though it might. A clinician who does not know what has gone into an animal recently is working with a gap in the middle of the picture. Nothing terrible necessarily follows - but you have converted a known animal into an unknown one, and the whole point of this folder is to hand over a known animal.
Page four - contacts: the chain that has to exist before 2am
Find out now who covers your animal at night, and write it down. This is the single most important instruction on this entire page. Do not assume your regular practice answers its own phone out of hours. Many do not. Many divert to a separate provider, sometimes in a different town, with different opening arrangements and a different address. The moment to discover that is not while you are standing in your hall at two in the morning with an animal that needs help. Phone your practice during working hours this week and ask them, in plain words: who do I call at night, at the weekend, and on a holiday, and where do I go? Then write the answer on the card.
Your regular practice
Full name of the practice, the phone number you would actually dial, the address written out as a person would say it to a taxi driver, and the opening arrangement as they describe it.
Add the name of the vet who usually sees your animal, if there is one. Continuity is worth something, and in a non-urgent situation it is genuinely useful to be able to say “she normally sees the animal”.
Add how they prefer to be contacted for non-urgent things, if they have said. Some practices want a form, some want a call, some want an app. Knowing this stops you using the emergency route for a question that is not an emergency, which is a small kindness to everybody.
The out-of-hours and emergency provider - find it before you need it
This is the line that saves the most time, and it is the line most folders do not have.
Write down the name of whoever covers your animal outside your practice’s normal hours, their phone number, their address, and - this matters - how you actually get in when you arrive. Out-of-hours entrances are frequently not the front door. There may be a bell, a different side of the building, a car park barrier, an intercom, a phone-first policy that means turning up unannounced wastes time.
Then write down how long it takes you to get there, by whatever means you would actually use, at night. Not the map estimate for the middle of the day. If you do not drive, write down what you would do instead, and whose number you would ring to be driven, and whether that person will answer a phone at night.
If your practice’s answer to “who covers you at night” is “phone the usual number and listen to the message”, write down what the message says, in full, having actually phoned and listened to it once. Recorded messages contain the crucial detail and are impossible to absorb while panicking.
The site’s find an emergency vet page exists for the situation where you are somewhere unfamiliar and have no card - but it is a fallback, not a substitute. The card in your folder, filled in from your own practice’s own answer, beats any search.
The nearest genuinely 24-hour option
Separate line, because it is often a different place from the out-of-hours provider your practice uses, and because on a bad night the answer to “where do I go” may not be the answer to “who do I phone”.
Find one, once, in daylight, and write down its name, number, address and access arrangement in the same format. If it is far away, write the honest travel time. Knowing that the nearest around-the-clock facility is a long drive is itself worth knowing in advance, because it changes the decision you make about when to set off.
Consider driving past it once so you know what the building looks like and where you would park. This sounds excessive until the one night you do it for real, in the dark, with an animal on the back seat.
A poison or toxin service, if your country has one
Some countries have a dedicated animal poison service that professionals or owners can contact; some do not; some have a service that only clinicians can use; some charge for it. This page is not going to tell you which, because it varies and it changes.
What it will tell you is to find out whether one exists where you live, and write the answer down either way - including writing “there is no such service here, go straight to the emergency provider” if that is the answer. A blank line looks like a task you have not done. An explicit “none here” is a completed line.
If something has been eaten and you are trying to work out how urgent it is, the site’s tools are the pet poison control directory and the emergency triage helper, and the two step-by-step pages are my dog ate something and my cat ate something. Substance-specific checkers exist for chocolate, xylitol, grapes and raisins and onion and garlic, and there is a poison control directory for the other big category. None of them replaces the phone call; all of them make the phone call better informed.
The human contacts, which most folders forget
A veterinary emergency is a logistics problem as much as a medical one, and the logistics run on people. Four roles, and they may be four different people or one very good friend.
- Who can collect the animal. Somebody with transport who could physically move the animal to a practice if you cannot. Ask them first. Write down whether they have a car, whether they have a carrier, and whether they can lift the animal.
- Who can authorise treatment if you are unreachable. A named person, agreed with in advance, and named to your practice as well as written in your folder. A practice cannot invent permission, and an animal waiting for an unreachable owner is the worst kind of delay.
- Who has a key. Written down with what they have access to, so that somebody can get to the animal, the folder, the food and the carrier without breaking a window.
- Who knows the animal. The person who can tell a stranger that this cat hides in the airing cupboard, or that this dog will not come to a man in a hat. Often the most useful person on the list and almost never on it.
Write, for each of them, the name, the number, the relationship, and one line about what they have agreed to do. “Agreed to” is the operative phrase: a name written on a card without a conversation is a hope, not a plan. Have the conversation. It takes a minute and it is not a strange thing to ask.
Tell your practice about the authorised person
Your folder saying somebody can authorise treatment is one half of the arrangement. The other half is your practice having it on their record. Phone them in working hours and ask how they want that recorded - most will simply add a note, some have a form.
While you are on the phone, ask the two questions that pair with it: what they need from a person who arrives with your animal but is not you, and how they want to be paid if you are not present. Both have straightforward answers, and both are horrible to discover at a counter.
THE CONTACT CHAIN - who gets called, in what order, by whom
SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH THE ANIMAL
|
+--------------+--------------+
| |
I AM THERE I AM NOT THERE
| |
v v
[1] REGULAR PRACTICE [A] PERSON WITH THE KEY
in opening hours opens the house,
name ............. finds the FOLDER
phone ............ |
address .......... v
| [B] READS THE FOLDER
| closed / night identity + medical
v + contacts + care
[2] OUT-OF-HOURS PROVIDER |
name ............. v
phone ............ [C] CALLS THE SAME
address .......... CHAIN [1] [2] [3]
how to get in .... |
travel time ...... v
| [D] AUTHORISED PERSON
| further / unavailable can say yes to
v treatment because
[3] NEAREST 24-HOUR OPTION the practice has
name ............. it on record
phone ............ |
address .......... v
travel time ...... [E] CALLS ME
| and keeps calling
v
[4] POISON / TOXIN SERVICE (if one exists where I live)
exists here? yes / no -> if NO, write NO on the card
number ...........
who may call it ..
PEOPLE COLUMN - agreed in advance, not assumed
------------------------------------------------
CAN COLLECT THE ANIMAL .......... car? carrier? can lift?
CAN AUTHORISE TREATMENT ......... told to the practice? yes / no
HAS A KEY ....................... knows where the folder is?
KNOWS THE ANIMAL ................ quirks, hiding places, fears
THE ONE PEOPLE SKIP: [2]. Ask your practice, in daylight,
who covers you at night. Write the answer down. Then you never
have to find out the hard way.
Page five - money: the policy, and the limit you set while calm
This is the page people want to skip, and it is the page that most often turns a bad night into a worse one. Not because money is the most important thing in the room - it is not - but because it is the thing you will be asked about while you are least equipped to think about it, and because the mechanics of a claim have requirements that are easy to fall foul of when you are not paying attention.
No insurers, no products, no prices, anywhere on this page. We do not name companies, we do not compare them, we do not recommend anything and we carry no figures. What follows is a description of how the machinery generally works so that you know which questions to ask of your own policy, whoever wrote it. Your policy document is the only thing that decides what your policy does.
What actually goes on the card
Short and factual. Whether you have cover at all. The name of the policy as written on your document, the policy number, the contact number on the document, and where the document itself physically lives.
Then a small number of lines that are not on most people’s cards and should be, because they are the ones that bite:
- Does the policy require anybody to contact the insurer before treatment begins? Some arrangements do. If yours does, that is a phone number you need at the moment you are least likely to look for one.
- Does the policy pay the practice directly, or do you pay and claim it back? These are completely different experiences at the counter and it is worth knowing which one you are in before you get there.
- What does the policy need from you at claim time? Typically some combination of a form, information from the practice, and the animal’s history. Write down what yours asks for.
- Who is named on the policy? If the person taking the animal in is not the person on the policy, that can matter, and it is easy to fix in advance and awkward to fix in a waiting room.
- Is there anything the policy specifically excludes for this animal? Not a general list - the specific note on your document, in its words.
If you do not have cover, write no insurance on the card explicitly, and then use the limit section below, which becomes considerably more important. A blank money card is ambiguous. An explicit “no cover, here is the plan instead” is a completed page.
Pre-authorisation, in concept
Some arrangements expect a conversation with the insurer before significant treatment starts, so that everybody knows in advance what is covered. The mechanism exists to remove uncertainty, and when it works it removes a lot of it.
The reason it belongs in an emergency folder is timing. If your policy works that way, somebody has to make that contact at a moment when you are already making other calls, possibly at night, possibly from a car park. Knowing in advance that it is required, and having the number on the card, turns that from a discovery into a task.
And if it is not required by your policy, write that down too. “No pre-authorisation needed” is a genuinely useful line, because it stops you wasting minutes wondering.
Direct payment versus paying and claiming back
Two shapes. In one, the practice bills the insurer and you settle whatever is left. In the other, you settle the whole bill and then claim. Whether a given practice will do the first is often a matter of that practice’s own policy as much as the insurer’s, so the honest version of this line has two halves: what your policy allows, and what your practice does.
Both halves are one phone call each, in daylight, and the answers go on the card. The practical consequence is simply whether you need a means of paying a large amount at short notice, which is a thing to know about yourself in advance rather than at a desk.
Whatever the arrangement, keep every piece of paper. Invoices, discharge notes, receipts, the printout nobody looks at. Photograph them the same day, into the same album as the folder pages. Claims are considerably easier when the paperwork exists.
The uncomfortable section: deciding a limit in advance
Here is the part nobody writes about, and it is the reason this page exists.
At some point, in some situation, somebody may have to decide how far to go. That is true whether you are insured or not, because policies have edges and situations have costs. The decision is horrible, and it is made infinitely more horrible by being made for the first time in a corridor, at speed, in front of a stranger, while somebody waits for an answer.
So the argument of this section is narrow and, I think, unarguable: you will make a better decision, and live with it more easily, if you have thought about it once before - on an ordinary evening, with the other adults in the house, with the animal asleep in the corner of the room.
This is not about being hard-headed. It is the opposite. Deciding calmly is how people protect themselves from making a decision in a state where they are not really deciding at all - where they are simply saying yes to whatever is put in front of them, or saying no because the number frightened them, and then carrying that for years.
How to actually have that conversation
- Have it with everybody who would be affected. Partners, adult children, whoever shares the animal. A limit one person set alone is not a household decision and will not hold.
- Talk about principles before numbers. What matters to you: the animal’s comfort, the chance of a real recovery, whether an intervention buys quality of life or only time. The number falls out of the principle far more easily than the principle falls out of the number.
- Write down what you decide, in your own words, and date it. Not so that it binds you - you can change it at any time and you probably will - but so that the calm version of you has left a message for the frightened version.
- Write down the question you would want asked on your behalf. Very often the useful thing is not a figure but a sentence: “before anything major, I want somebody to ask what this is likely to achieve for the animal, and what the alternative is.”
- Revisit it when circumstances change. A change of income, a change of household, a change in the animal’s health. Cross it out and write the new one; that is what pen and paper are for.
If the general shape of what animals cost over a lifetime is useful background for that conversation, the site has the honest version: the pet costs overview, the vet costs guide, the pet cost calculator, the food cost calculator, the pet ownership costs report, the dog cost per year by country dataset, and the pet insurance guide for how the products are generally shaped. Read those on a calm evening, not tonight.
What happens when the money page is blank
You find out what your policy requires at the moment it is being tested. You discover at a counter whether you are in the pay-and-claim world. You make a decision about a limit at the exact moment you are least capable of making one, and then you spend a long time afterwards wondering whether it was the decision you actually wanted to make. None of that is a catastrophe. All of it is avoidable in one evening.
Page six - consent and decisions: what you want asked, and who may answer
This section is handled with care and it is not prescriptive. Nothing here tells you what to decide. There is no right answer, there is no threshold, and there is certainly no answer that a website could give you about your animal. What this page does is describe what kinds of things get asked, so that the questions are not the first surprise of a very hard day, and so that you can talk them over with your own veterinary professional, who knows your animal.
The authorisation-to-treat note, and what it is for
A veterinary practice generally needs permission from the owner before doing significant things. That is right, and you would want it no other way. But it creates a specific failure: if the owner cannot be reached, the animal waits.
An authorisation note is simply a written statement, kept in the folder and mirrored on the practice record, naming a person who may make decisions if you cannot be contacted, and saying what you want that person to be able to agree to.
Three practical points. It must name a real person who has agreed to the role. It must be known to your practice, not just to your folder, so telephone them and ask how they want it recorded. And it should say what happens if that person cannot be reached either - usually a second name.
Some people also write down a sentence covering the situation where nobody can be reached at all. That sentence is a personal matter and there is no template for it here; it is exactly the kind of thing to draft after a conversation with your own vet.
“Do everything” and “call me first”, operationally
These two phrases get used constantly and they mean less than people assume, because they are answers to a question nobody has fully asked yet. Unpacking them in advance is useful.
“Do everything” sounds unambiguous and is not. Everything within what limit? Everything including interventions that a clinician might consider unlikely to help? Everything at any hour, at any facility, including a transfer to somewhere else? A person who says “do everything” at two in the morning usually means “do not let my animal suffer while you wait for me”, which is a different instruction and a better one. Writing that down in your own words in advance is worth more than the phrase.
“Call me first” is a reasonable instruction and it has an obvious failure mode, which is that you might not answer. So the useful version has a second half: call me first, and if I do not answer within a reasonable time, here is the person who can decide, and here is what I would want done in the meantime. A folder that says “call me first” and nothing else is a folder that can stall.
The most useful thing many owners write is neither of those phrases but a question they want asked on their behalf: something like “before any major decision, please tell whoever is deciding what this is likely to achieve, and what the realistic alternatives are.” That sentence works whether you are reachable or not.
Quality of life, thought about in advance
This is the hardest paragraph on the page and it is going to be short, because it is not ours to be long about.
At some point in an animal’s life, some households find themselves being asked to think about whether an animal’s day-to-day life is what they would want for it. That conversation is a veterinary conversation, and it is a personal one, and it is genuinely different for every animal and every family. There is no scale on this page, no list of criteria, no test to apply. We are not going to pretend that a website can tell you anything about that.
What the folder can hold is what you have thought, in your own words, dated, written when nothing was urgent. Some people write about what their animal loves and what it would mean for those things to stop being possible. Some write about what they would not want the animal to be put through. Some write only one line: “talk to our own vet, listen to what she says, and do not decide anything in a corridor.”
All of those are legitimate folder entries. None of them binds you. The reason to have written something is not that it makes the decision; it is that on the day, you are not starting the thinking from zero at the worst possible moment.
Discuss it with your own veterinary professional. Not with a website, not with a forum, not with an article. Your vet has seen your animal, knows its history and can tell you what is realistic. If you would like to have that conversation before it is urgent - and many people find that enormously easier - you can simply ask for it at an ordinary appointment. Practices are entirely used to the question.
Who else in the house needs to know what you wrote
A decisions page nobody has read is a decisions page that does not work. Whoever might be standing in the practice without you needs to have read it while everybody was calm, and needs to have been able to say “I am not comfortable with that” before the day arrives.
This is also the one page of the folder that benefits from being re-read occasionally rather than just re-checked. Circumstances change, animals change, and what you wrote a while ago may not be what you think now. Cross it out and write the new version.
Page seven - daily care: the page that lets somebody else take over
Everything so far has been for a professional. This page is for an amateur - a friend, a neighbour, a relative, a sitter - who has to run your animal’s life at no notice and has never done it before.
It is also the page people most enjoy writing, because it is the one that is about the animal rather than about paperwork. And it is the page that most reliably prevents a small crisis: an animal that will not eat because nobody knows how it likes its food, a cat that vanishes because nobody knew about the cupboard, a dog that pulls loose because nobody knew it panics at motorbikes.
Feeding, described as actions rather than as facts
Write it as instructions a stranger can follow without asking a question.
- What the animal eats, named exactly as it appears on the packaging, and where the food is kept.
- How much, in the units you actually use - the scoop that lives in the bag, the particular cup, the marked line on the container. If the measure is an object, say which object and where it is.
- How many meals, and at roughly what points in the day, described relative to the household’s routine rather than to a clock if that is how it really works.
- Anything that goes with or in the food, and where that is kept.
- Water: where the bowls are, how many there are, and how often they get refreshed. If your animal is fussy about water - a running tap, a particular bowl, a bowl away from the food - say so, because a stranger will not guess.
- What the animal must not have. Be specific and be blunt: the human foods, the bin, the compost, the thing the children drop. Point at the poison control directory and, for the house itself, at pet-proof your home.
- What treats are allowed, how many, and whether anybody else in the house is also giving them. Double-feeding by two well-meaning people is one of the most common quiet problems in a handover.
If your animal is on a food chosen for a reason, say so and name the reason without elaborating: “this food was chosen by our vet, do not change it, if it runs out phone the practice.” A sitter who runs out of food and buys something similar-looking is trying to help, and a single line prevents it.
Walks, toileting and the outdoor routine
For a dog: how many walks, roughly when, how long, where, and on what equipment. Say which harness or collar and where it is kept. Say whether the animal is ever off the lead and where, and if the honest answer is “not with somebody it does not know”, write that.
Say what the animal is like on a lead: pulls, freezes, is fine, is reactive to certain things. Name the specific triggers if there are any - other dogs, bicycles, men in high-visibility jackets, the bin lorry. A person who knows the trigger can steer around it; a person who does not gets pulled into a road.
For a cat: whether it goes out at all, what the arrangement is, whether it comes in at a particular time, and what the household rule is. If it is an indoor cat, say so in capitals, because the single most common way an indoor cat is lost is somebody opening a door who did not know. The site’s honest look at indoor versus outdoor cats covers the wider question.
Litter arrangements deserve their own lines: how many trays, where, what litter, how often it is changed, and what the animal’s normal use of it looks like. A change in that pattern is one of the more useful early signals a sitter can notice and report, and the site covers the topic in why your cat stopped using the litter box and litter box problems.
For dogs, note the normal toileting pattern too, in a plain sentence. A stranger has no baseline, and the folder is where the baseline lives. How much exercise is right for a given dog is its own subject: how much exercise does your dog actually need.
Quirks, fears and the things that only you know
This is the section that makes the difference between a sitter who copes and a sitter who has a bad week.
- Where the animal hides, and every place it has ever hidden. Write them all. An animal that has vanished has usually not gone anywhere; it is in a place a stranger would not think to look.
- What frightens it. Fireworks, thunder, the vacuum cleaner, a particular sound, being approached from behind, hats, umbrellas, wheeled things.
- What it does when it is frightened. Hides, freezes, bolts, growls, goes very still, becomes clingy. A person who knows the animal bolts will close the door behind them.
- How it likes to be handled, and how it does not. Where it does not like being touched. Whether it can be picked up and by whom.
- Its normal, described plainly - how much it sleeps, how vocal it is, how it greets people - so that somebody who does not know the animal can tell when it is not itself. This is the whole point of the pet body language decoder, and a sentence about your specific animal beats any general guide.
- Other animals in the house and how they get on, including which pairs must not be left alone together.
- Anything the animal does that looks alarming and is normal for it, and - more importantly - anything it does that looks minor and is not. Pair the second with a clear instruction: if you see this, phone the practice.
Where everything physically is
A short inventory, so that nobody is opening cupboards in your house looking for things.
- Leads, harnesses, collars - and the spare.
- The carrier, and whether it needs assembling. A carrier that comes apart into two halves has ruined more than one departure.
- Food, measure, bowls, treats.
- Litter, trays, scoop, bags, spare litter.
- Towels and old bedding that can be used and thrown away.
- Cleaning things, because accidents happen and a sitter should not have to ask.
- The folder itself, said out loud in this list, because the daily-care page may be the first page somebody reads.
- Any equipment the animal uses - a ramp, a step, a pen, a gate - and how it works.
Note deliberately absent from this inventory: anything resembling a home treatment kit. What belongs in a physical kit and what emphatically does not is covered separately in the pet first aid kit checklist and in pet first aid: what not to do, and it is not something to improvise from a folder page.
The one-paragraph version at the top
Put a short paragraph at the top of the daily-care page that a person can read in twenty seconds while standing in your hall: species and name, the one thing that would be a disaster (the door, the stairs, the other cat), what it eats and when, and the phone number to ring if anything is wrong.
Everything else on the page is reference. That paragraph is what actually gets read.
Page eight - the go-bag: what you grab when there is no time
The folder is information. The go-bag is objects. It is the answer to “we have to leave, now” - a flood, a fire alarm, a building evacuation, a sudden trip to a practice a long way away, or the situation where you are the one who has to go to hospital.
It is not a first aid kit and this page is not going to turn it into one. It is a bag of the boring things that make an animal manageable and identifiable somewhere that is not home.
What goes in it
- A copy of the folder. The whole thing, or at minimum the identity, medical, contacts and daily-care pages. This is the single most important item in the bag.
- The carrier, or the means of restraint. For a cat or a small animal, the carrier itself, kept accessible rather than in a loft. For a dog, a spare lead and a well-fitting harness or collar that stays in the bag and never gets borrowed for a walk.
- Food for a short period, in a sealed container, plus the measure. Rotate it so it is not ancient.
- Bowls - something to eat from and something to drink from that does not need your kitchen.
- Water, in a bottle, changed when you think of it.
- Any medication the animal is currently on, in its own dispensed packaging with the label intact, together with the photograph of that label. Never decanted into an unlabelled container.
- Litter and a disposable tray for a cat, or bags for a dog. A cat that cannot toilet in an unfamiliar room is a cat that becomes unwell in a way that is entirely preventable.
- Bedding or something that smells of home. An old towel from the animal’s own bed does more for a frightened animal in a strange room than anything else in the bag.
- A recent photograph of the animal, on paper. If you are separated from it, you may also be separated from your phone or your phone’s battery.
- A card with your name, your number and a second contact, physically attached to the carrier or the collar.
- Towels. Two, plain, old. Endlessly useful and never regretted.
- A torch. Because evacuations are disproportionately at night, and because you may be looking under things.
What does not go in: anything you would give the animal on your own judgement, anything human, anything sharp you do not know how to use, and anything that would only be used by somebody with training. The first aid kit checklist is explicit about that boundary and this bag respects it.
Carrier readiness, which is a separate job
A carrier that lives in a loft, comes apart into two halves and is only ever produced immediately before something unpleasant is not a piece of emergency equipment. It is an obstacle.
Three things make a carrier ready. It is accessible - you can put a hand on it without moving furniture. It is assembled, or assembles without tools in a moment, and you have done it recently enough to remember how. And the animal has some relationship with it that is not purely negative, which for most animals means it has simply been present, open, in a room, with something soft in it, often enough to stop being an event.
For an animal that has to travel more than occasionally, the fuller treatment of getting a carrier accepted is in travelling with your pet. For the purposes of this folder, the requirement is much smaller: the carrier exists, you can reach it, and it will not fall apart.
Write on the go-bag card where the carrier is. Not “in the house”. The shelf.
Where the bag lives, and the rotation problem
Near the door you would actually leave by, or wherever you keep the things you take when you go away. Not somewhere that requires a ladder.
The failure mode of every go-bag ever assembled is that it is raided. Somebody borrows the lead, takes the towel, uses the water bottle. Two defences: put things in it that are duplicates rather than the only one you own, and check the bag when you check the folder, which the review section ties to events you will actually notice.
Food, water and anything with a life span get rotated on the same rhythm. If you have a food that runs out and gets replaced, the go-bag portion is the oldest one and gets swapped when you buy new.
If I am the emergency: the plan nobody makes
Everything above assumes you are the one making the phone calls. Now assume you are not.
People plan meticulously for their animal being unwell and almost never plan for themselves being unwell, which is strange, because it is at least as likely and considerably more disruptive to the animal. An owner who goes into hospital unexpectedly leaves behind a living creature that needs feeding tonight, and a house that may be locked.
The short-notice plan
Three questions, answered in advance and written on the card.
- Who feeds the animal tonight? A named person who has a key or can get one, who has agreed, and whose number is on the card and on your phone under a name somebody else would recognise.
- Who takes the animal if this lasts more than a day or two? A different question, because feeding a cat twice a day is a favour and housing a dog for a week is a commitment. Ask explicitly and get an explicit answer.
- Who decides about the animal if I cannot? The same authorised person from the contacts page, which is why that page and this one point at each other.
Then make the information findable by somebody who is not in your house. A card in your wallet, or a note on your phone’s lock screen if it supports one, saying that there is an animal at home, where the folder is, and who to call. Emergency responders and hospital staff routinely look for exactly that.
The longer-notice version
If you know you are going to be unavailable - a planned procedure, a stay away, a period where you will not be able to manage the animal - the folder does most of the work already. Hand over the daily-care page, walk the person through the house once, show them the folder, and show them where the go-bag is.
Do the walk-through with the animal present. Watching somebody else handle your animal for ten minutes while you are there to correct them is worth more than any amount of written instruction.
The part people avoid
And beyond that there is the longer question of what happens to an animal if its owner is permanently unable to look after it. This page is not the place for that conversation in any depth, and we are not going to give legal or financial guidance about it. But the folder can hold one honest line about who you would want to have the animal, and whether you have asked them.
People find it much easier to write that line than they expect to, and much harder to start the conversation. Starting it is the whole job; the writing is a minute.
THE GO-BAG, LAID OUT - one bag, three layers, nothing medical
+=================================================================+
| OUTER POCKET - the things you need in the first two minutes |
+=================================================================+
| [ ] FOLDER COPY identity / medical / contacts / daily care |
| [ ] PAPER PHOTOGRAPH of the animal, side-on, recent |
| [ ] CARD my name, my number, second contact |
| [ ] SPARE LEAD + HARNESS (lives here, never borrowed) |
| [ ] TORCH |
+=================================================================+
| MAIN BODY - keeping the animal fed and contained |
+=================================================================+
| [ ] FOOD, sealed, rotated [ ] THE MEASURE (the actual one) |
| [ ] BOWL, food [ ] BOWL, water |
| [ ] WATER BOTTLE, changed when you think of it |
| [ ] LITTER + DISPOSABLE TRAY or [ ] BAGS |
| [ ] BEDDING that smells of home |
| [ ] TWO OLD TOWELS |
+=================================================================+
| SEALED POUCH - records only, in original packaging |
+=================================================================+
| [ ] CURRENT MEDICATION in its dispensed box, LABEL INTACT |
| [ ] PHOTOGRAPH OF THAT LABEL |
| [ ] VACCINATION CARD or a photograph of it |
| |
| NOT IN THIS BAG, EVER: |
| x anything given on your own judgement |
| x anything human |
| x anything decanted into an unlabelled container |
| x anything only a trained person should use |
+=================================================================+
BESIDE THE BAG, NOT IN IT
-------------------------
CARRIER assembled or assembles in seconds
reachable without moving furniture
known to the animal as an ordinary object
WHERE IT IS ................................
THE BAG LIVES ..............................................
RAID-PROOFING duplicates, not your only one
ROTATION checked whenever the folder is checked
The 2am walkthrough: what the folder actually does in the first ten minutes
Theory is easy. Here is the folder doing its job, minute by minute, in the situation it was built for.
Minute one: you stop looking for things
Something has happened. The first instinct of almost everybody is to start searching - for the packet, for the phone number, for the vaccination card, for the policy. Searching is the enemy, because it is the thing that feels like action while producing none.
With a folder, minute one is: get the animal somewhere safe and contained, get the folder, and if something was eaten, pick up the packaging and keep it. That is it. There is nothing to look for because everything is in one place.
What “safe and contained” means and what you must not do next is the subject of before you call the vet and pet first aid: what not to do, and those pages, not this one, are where that belongs.
Minute two: you decide who to call, without deciding
You do not work out who covers you at night, because you wrote it down. You read line two of the contacts card and you dial it. If it is daytime you read line one instead. That is the entire decision.
If you are not sure how urgent it is, the emergency triage helper exists for that specific question, and the pet emergency page is the wider version. But note the ordering: the folder makes the call possible, and nothing on this page ever tells you to delay a call in order to finish reading something.
Minutes three to six: you answer the questions
Weight, from the card, with a date on it. Species, breed or type, age, sex, neuter status, from the card. Existing conditions, from the card. Current medication, read off the transcription or off the photograph of the label. Last parasite treatment, product and date, from the card. Vaccination status, from the card or the photograph of the card.
Six answers, delivered in order, in under a minute, in a voice that is not shaking as much as it would otherwise be. The person on the other end now has a specific animal instead of a category.
Minutes seven and eight: the practical questions
Do you have insurance, does it want to be contacted first, how are you getting there, how long will it take you, who is coming with you. All of it either on the money card or the contacts card. If you cannot drive, you are already dialling the person on the card who agreed to drive.
Minutes nine and ten: you leave the house properly
Carrier from the known place. Go-bag from the known place. Folder in the bag. Packaging of whatever was eaten in the bag. Lead and harness on the dog, not somewhere in the house. Message to the person who has a key, so that somebody knows.
Then you go. The value of the folder is not that it did anything clever. It is that in ten minutes you did not spend a single one of them searching, guessing or discovering something for the first time.
THE 2AM TREE - what the folder answers at each fork
SOMETHING IS WRONG
|
v
SECURE THE ANIMAL / KEEP THE PACKAGING
|
v
PICK UP THE FOLDER
|
+---------------+---------------+
| |
IS IT OPENING HOURS? OUT OF HOURS
| |
v v
CONTACTS LINE 1 CONTACTS LINE 2
regular practice out-of-hours provider
| |
| no answer / too far
| v
| CONTACTS LINE 3
| nearest 24-hour option
+---------------+---------------+
|
v
THEY ASK. YOU READ.
|
+--------+--------+------+------+--------+---------+
| | | | | |
WEIGHT SPECIES CONDITIONS MEDICATION PARASITE VACCINE
card card card card card card
+ date + age + past + label + product + dates
+ sex reactions photo + date
|
v
THEY TELL YOU WHAT TO DO NEXT
|
+---------------+---------------+
| |
COME IN NOW STAY AND WATCH
| |
v v
MONEY CARD pre-auth? WRITE DOWN WHAT THEY
direct pay or claim? SAID AND WHEN THEY
limit already thought about SAID IT. Note the time.
| |
v v
GO-BAG + CARRIER + FOLDER PUT THE NOTE IN THE
from their known places FOLDER. It becomes
| history for next time.
v
MESSAGE THE PERSON WITH THE KEY
|
v
LEAVE
NOTE: no branch of this tree ends in you deciding what is
wrong, or giving the animal anything. Every branch ends at a
veterinary professional. The folder only makes the call better.
Keeping it current: review triggers, not review dates
Every folder, checklist and emergency plan ever made has the same failure mode. It gets built with enthusiasm, it is accurate for a while, and then reality moves and the folder does not. A confidently wrong folder is worse than no folder, because somebody will read it and believe it.
The usual fix is to put a review date on it. That does not work, because a date in the future is an appointment with a version of you who has other things on. What works is tying the review to things that already happen and that you already notice.
The triggers
- After any veterinary visit. Anything said, prescribed, given or written down goes on the relevant card before the paperwork leaves your hand. This is the highest-yield trigger by a distance, because it is the moment when new information exists and when you are holding the document it came on.
- After a move. New address, new practice, new out-of-hours provider, new travel times, and - the one everybody forgets - the microchip registry entry.
- After any change of phone number, email or name. Same list. Same registry.
- After a weight change. Either a deliberate one or one you have simply noticed. New line on the weight card with today’s date, and for a growing animal, a new line every time you weigh it.
- After any change of people. Somebody moves in, moves out, stops being available, gains or loses a key. The contacts page and the consent page both move.
- After a change of food or routine. New food, new feeding pattern, new walk arrangement. The daily-care page is only useful if it describes the current animal.
- After the animal stops looking like the photograph. A clip, a season, a coat change, growth, age. Take a new one and put it in.
- After the folder is used. The best possible moment to improve it, because you have just discovered exactly which line was missing. Do it within a day or two, while the memory of standing there is still sharp.
- After a renewal of anything. Policy, licence, registration - whatever gets renewed where you live. Update the reference and the date on the card.
- Whenever you photograph the pages. Which should be at the end of every one of the above.
The one calendar-shaped exception
There is a case for one low-effort sweep whenever you do some other household admin you already do. Not on a fixed schedule of its own, but attached to something existing, so it inherits a habit rather than needing a new one. Three minutes: read the weight line, read the contacts card, check the go-bag has not been raided, and re-photograph anything you changed.
Seasonal changes are a natural hook for that in many households, and there is a separate page for the hazards that come with them: the pet hazards calendar, plus is it too hot to walk my dog for the one that catches people out most.
Where the paper copy lives
One place, obvious, unlocked, labelled. The fridge door is the classic answer for the summary sheet, and it is the right answer, because it is the one surface in a house that everybody looks at and nobody tidies. The full folder is usually better in the drawer directly beneath it, or on the shelf next to it - close enough that “on the fridge” and “in the folder” are the same location in people’s minds.
If you print the fill-in pack from this page, the natural split is: the contacts card and the identity card on the fridge door where they are visible, and the whole pack in the drawer. That way the two things a stranger needs immediately are readable without opening anything.
The one-page printable fridge sheet is designed for exactly that door, and it pairs with this folder rather than competing with it. Sheet on the door, folder underneath. If you already have the sheet up, you are further along than you think; this page just gives the sheet somewhere to point to.
Photograph it to your phone - the step that makes it portable
This is the step people nod at and do not do, and it is the step that makes the folder work away from home.
- Photograph each completed page individually, straight on, in daylight or good indoor light, with the whole page in frame.
- Check each photograph is readable at the size you would actually read it - open it, zoom to the microchip number, confirm you can read every character.
- Put them all in one album, named something you would think of while panicking. Not “pets”. Something like the animal’s name followed by the word emergency.
- Add the photograph of any dispensing label and of the vaccination card.
- Do it again whenever a card changes, and delete the old photograph so there is only ever one version. Two versions of a weight card on one phone is a trap.
- If somebody else in the household would ever need it, send them the album too. A photograph on one phone is one point of failure.
- Test it once, cold: from a locked phone, get to the weight. If that was slow, the album is in the wrong place or has the wrong name.
That is the whole portability strategy, and it costs a few minutes once and a few seconds per update. It is also what turns the folder from a household object into something that helps you in a car park two hundred miles from home - which, if you travel with the animal at all, is a real scenario. Travelling with your pet covers the wider version of that problem.
THE REVIEW LOOP - triggered by events, never by a date
+-----------------------+
| THE FOLDER IS TRUE |
+-----------------------+
^ |
| | life happens
| v
+-----------------+ +------------------------+
| | A TRIGGER FIRES |
| +------------------------+
| | | | | | |
| vet visit ----+ | | | | +---- folder
| house move --------+ | | | was used
| number/email ---------+ | |
| weight change -------------+ |
| people change -----------------+
| food or routine change
| animal no longer looks like the photo
| renewal of policy / licence
| |
| v
| +---------------------+
| | OPEN THE FOLDER |
| | cross out. rewrite.|
| | date the change. |
| +---------------------+
| |
| v
| +---------------------+
| | RE-PHOTOGRAPH the |
| | page that changed |
| | delete the old one |
| +---------------------+
| |
| v
| +---------------------+
| | CHECK THE GO-BAG |
| | raided? expired? |
| +---------------------+
| |
+--------------------------+
THE TRIGGER THAT MATTERS MOST
-----------------------------
"the folder was used" -> update it within a day or two,
while you still remember exactly which line was missing.
Every folder gets good the same way: by being used badly once.
What goes wrong with folders, and how each one is fixed
Ten failure modes, all of them common, all of them cheap to prevent.
It is beautiful and out of date
The most common failure of all. Someone builds a careful folder, and then the animal is neutered, the practice changes hands, the phone number changes, and the folder still says the old thing. Somebody reads it and acts on it.
Fix: date every card. A card with a date on it announces its own age. A card without one pretends to be current forever.
It is on a device nobody else can open
A perfect folder inside a locked phone, or in an account only you are logged into, is a folder that does not exist for anybody else. The whole point is that it works when you are not available.
Fix: paper first, phone second, and a copy with the person who has your key.
It is written in shorthand
Initials, abbreviations, “the usual”, “the same as last time”, the name of a product only you would recognise. Perfectly readable to the person who wrote it and useless to everybody else.
Fix: write for a stranger, and then test it by handing it to somebody who does not know your animal and asking them to feed it from the card.
The microchip registration was never checked
Discussed at length above because it is the most consequential silent failure in the whole system. The chip is there, the number is written down, and the database points at a phone that was disconnected two moves ago.
Fix: verify the registration, then write the date you verified it on the card.
Nobody knows where it is
The folder exists, it is accurate, and the person standing in your kitchen has no idea it exists. This is the saddest failure because everything worked except the last step.
Fix: say where it is out loud, to everybody, more than once. Label the outside. Put the location in the message you send to the person with the key.
It contains things it should not
Folders accumulate. A note somebody wrote about what to give the animal, a leftover packet, a printout from a forum, a dose somebody worked out. Any of those in a folder is a risk, because a folder is a document people trust.
Fix: the folder holds records and instructions for handling the animal. It never holds treatment guidance from any source that is not your own veterinary professional’s own paperwork. Take out anything else.
It covers one animal in a multi-animal house
Two cats, one folder, and half the information is ambiguous about which cat it refers to. Weight in particular becomes actively dangerous when it is attached to the wrong animal.
Fix: one complete set of cards per animal, physically separated, with the animal’s name on every single card. Not a shared card with two columns.
The go-bag has been quietly raided
The lead is on a hook, the towel is in the wash, the water bottle went to a picnic, the torch has no charge.
Fix: duplicates rather than only-copies, and check the bag on the same triggers as the folder.
The consent page was never discussed
Written by one person, never read by the other adults, and discovered at the worst moment by somebody who does not agree with it.
Fix: write it together or at least read it together. A decisions page is a household document, not a private one.
It was never actually used, even when it should have been
People build the folder and then, in the moment, revert to searching and guessing, because reaching for a folder is not yet a habit.
Fix: rehearse once. Genuinely. Pick an evening, pretend, and walk through it - folder, contacts card, read the six answers out loud, find the carrier, find the go-bag. It takes five minutes and it is the difference between having a folder and using one. Do the same rehearsal with anybody who might have to do it instead of you.
WHAT A MISSING PAGE COSTS - the honest ledger
PAGE IF IT IS THERE IF IT IS BLANK
============ ========================== ========================
IDENTITY a stranger can confirm an animal nobody can
this is your animal and match to an owner; a
reach you through the chip that scans to a
registry number that no longer
rings
WEIGHT the conversation becomes you guess; the guess is
specific in one sentence believed; the checker
cannot help you at all
MEDICAL a known animal, with a an unknown animal, and
known history and known a previous bad reaction
reactions that exists only in a
head that has stopped
working
CONTACTS you dial line two and you learn at 2am that
you are moving your practice does not
do nights
MONEY the counter is admin the counter is a
decision you were not
ready to make
CONSENT somebody can say yes on the animal waits for an
your behalf, and knows owner nobody can reach
what you would want
DAILY CARE anybody can take over the animal will not eat,
today or vanishes, or is
walked past the one
thing that makes it bolt
GO-BAG you leave with what you you leave with an animal
need and nothing else
IF I AM THE somebody is already on a locked house with a
EMERGENCY the way to feed it living creature in it
REVIEW the folder is true the folder is fiction,
and somebody believes it
Nothing in this ledger is a medical outcome. Every row is about
time, information and who can act. The clinical part of the night
belongs entirely to a veterinary professional, folder or no folder.
The same folder, four different households
The structure does not change. The emphasis does.
One dog, one adult, a flat, no car
The contacts page is doing nearly all the work here, and the line that matters most is the one about how you physically get to an out-of-hours provider at night without a car. That is not a detail; it is the plan. Name the person who would drive you, confirm they would answer at night, and write down the alternative if they do not.
The other pressure point is that there is no second adult, so the authorised person, the key holder and the short-notice carer may all be one friend or neighbour. Ask them explicitly, all three questions at once, and write down what they said yes to.
If the dog is reactive or difficult to handle, the daily-care page becomes safety-critical rather than convenience information, and the body language decoder is worth reading before you write that section.
Two cats, a family with children, a house
Two complete sets of cards, physically separated, names on every card, because the single greatest risk in this household is information about one cat being applied to the other.
The daily-care page carries the door rule in capitals if either cat is indoor-only, and it carries hiding places, because children open doors and cats disappear. The identity card’s distinguishing-marks line does real work when two similar cats live together.
Add a line most folders miss: what the children are and are not allowed to give the animals, and where the poison control directory is stuck up. Household prevention generally is pet-proof your home, and lilies in particular are a cat-specific hard stop covered in are lilies poisonous to cats and in the poison control directory.
A new puppy or kitten, first months
The weight card is a running column, not a line, because the number changes constantly and an old one is misleading. Date every entry and read from the top.
The medical page is mostly a transcription exercise, because a young animal generates paperwork quickly - vaccination entries, parasite treatments, the first examinations. Copy each one as it arrives rather than saving them up.
The daily-care page changes faster than any other page in the folder and should be written in pencil, metaphorically speaking. Feeding, routine and what is normal all move month to month. The day-by-day companions are new puppy: the first 30 days and new kitten: the first 30 days; before that, the first eight weeks; and for the shopping side, the new puppy checklist. Logging the growth is what the puppy and kitten tracker is for.
An older animal with a long-term condition
Now the medical page is the centre of the folder rather than one page in it. Existing conditions in plain words, the management as prescribed and transcribed exactly, the practice that holds the history, and the referral centre if there is one.
Add a line that is specific to this household: what your practice has told you to watch for, in their words, and what they told you to do if you see it. That is a record of an instruction you were given, and it is the most valuable single line in this version of the folder.
The consent and decisions page also matters more here and deserves more time and more conversation. So does the money page, because long-term conditions and insurance interact in ways that are worth understanding while nothing is urgent. Background reading, for a calm evening: senior dog care and how often to see the vet by life stage.
One more: if the animal is on medication, the go-bag pouch matters more, and the rule about original labelled packaging is not a formality.
The questions to ask your own vet, written down
Take this list to an ordinary appointment. None of these is an emergency question, and all of them are much easier to ask when nothing is wrong. Write the answers straight onto the cards.
- Who covers my animal outside your normal hours - the name, the number and the address?
- How do I get in when I arrive there at night?
- Where is the nearest facility that is genuinely open around the clock, if that is not you?
- Is there an animal poison or toxin service in this country, and can an owner contact it directly or only a professional?
- What identifier do you hold my animal under, so that another practice can request the history?
- Is my animal’s microchip number on your record, and does it match what I have written down?
- Can you print or confirm the current vaccination entries so that I can copy them accurately?
- What have you got recorded about my animal’s weight, and when was it taken?
- Has my animal ever had a reaction to anything that I should have written down?
- What would you want to know from me on the phone in an emergency, in the order you would want it?
- How would you like me to record that a named person may authorise treatment if I cannot be reached?
- What do you need from somebody who arrives with my animal but is not me?
- Do you deal directly with insurers, or do owners pay and claim back?
- If my animal is on medication, what exactly should I write down about it, and should I photograph the label?
- Is there anything about my animal specifically that you would want on a card in my kitchen?
There is no question here of the form “what should I give my animal if X happens”. That question does not belong on a card, in a folder, on a fridge or on a website, because the answer depends on an examination. If you find yourself wanting to write a treatment down so that you can act on it later without phoning, that is precisely the impulse this folder is designed to replace with a phone number.
Choose a folder section
Ten sections, one panel each: what to record, why it matters at two in the morning, and what breaks when it is missing. Nothing here is stored, saved or sent anywhere - the selector is plain HTML and CSS, with no scripts of any kind. Your choices are not recorded and there is nothing to submit.
Track your own completeness
A half-built folder is the normal outcome, because people start on an evening when they have energy and then hit the first item that needs a phone call. This tracker exists so that a half-built folder does not quietly become a permanently half-built one.
Tick a section when it is genuinely finished - not started, finished. Nothing here is stored, saved or sent. It is plain HTML and CSS with no scripts; closing the page clears it, which is the point. Take a photograph of the ticked list if you want to keep your place, or simply tick the same boxes on the printed pack.
If you finish the first four, you have the folder that answers the questions on the phone. If you finish all ten, you have the folder that works when you are not there. Most people get to four in an evening and to ten over a couple of weeks, and four is already an enormous improvement on nothing.
The printable fill-in folder
Below are twelve cards with ruled blanks. Use your browser’s print command and you will get the cards and nothing else - the navigation, this prose, the selector and the tracker are all removed by a print stylesheet, and each card starts on a fresh page. Print it, fill it in with a pen, and you have the folder.
Print one full set per animal if you have more than one, and write the animal’s name on every single card, because the most dangerous kind of mistake in a multi-animal house is information applied to the wrong animal.
- Print it. If your browser offers a background-graphics option you do not need it - the cards are designed to print in plain ink on plain paper.
- Fill in what you can from memory this evening. Print letters for anything that is a string of characters.
- Make one list of what you still need: the chip registry, the vaccination card, the policy document, the answer from your practice about nights.
- Finish it over the next week or two. Four cards done is already far better than none.
- Photograph every completed card into one named album on your phone, and test that you can read the microchip number on the photograph.
- Put the pack where everybody knows, put the contacts card and identity card somewhere visible, and tell the household out loud where it is.
- Re-print a card when it gets too crossed-out to read. That is a sign of a folder being used, not a failure.
Nothing you write on these cards is transmitted anywhere. They are printed paper. There is no form on this page, no script on this page, and nothing to submit.
The preparation checklist
One hundred and ten finished actions, in eleven groups that follow the folder. Every line is written as something that is done, not as a topic to think about, because a checklist of topics is just a list of anxieties.
Nothing on this list is stored, saved or sent anywhere - it is plain HTML with no scripts, and closing the page clears it. Nothing on this list is a medical instruction. It is an administrative list about writing things down and finding things out.
If you have ticked Group A through Group F you can answer the questions on the phone. If you have ticked Group G and Group H you can get the animal to the right place. If you have ticked the rest, the folder works when you are not there. Print the pack, do it in that order, and stop worrying about the ones you have not reached yet.
Where this page sits
This is the last page of the emergency spine, and it is the one that ties the other nine together. Everything below is on this site, and none of it is behind anything.
The spine, in the order you would meet it
- My dog ate something - what to do, step by step and my cat ate or chewed something: the two pages for the event itself.
- Before you call the vet: the two-minute preparation, and the closest relative of this page.
- Pet first aid: what NOT to do: the prohibitions, which matter more than any technique.
- The pet emergency page: the wider view of what counts as one.
- New puppy: the first 30 days and new kitten: the first 30 days: the two arrival guides.
- Pet-proof your home: the room-by-room audit that prevents most of what this folder prepares for.
- Travelling with your pet: the preparation system for a journey, and the page this folder travels with.
The fridge sheet, which this page expands
The Pet Emergency Pack printable fridge sheet is the one-page version: numbers, the never-let-them-eat-this list and the red flags, on a single sheet for the fridge door. This folder is the expanded version that goes in the drawer underneath. Use both.
Tools that fill in the blanks
- Pet poison control directory - needs the weight from your weight card.
- Is this an emergency? triage helper.
- Find an emergency vet, for when you have no card and you are somewhere unfamiliar.
- Water intake calculator and dog and cat water intake, plus why a cat drinking more than usual is a warning sign.
- Vaccination schedule generator and the vaccination schedule explained, for the record on your medical card.
- Poison control directory, poison control directory and pet food recall checker.
- Lost pet poster tool, which runs on the description from your identity card.
- Puppy and kitten tracker, puppy weight predictor, ideal weight calculator, pet age calculator and pet care plan.
- Dog food calculator, cat calorie calculator and the food cost calculator.
- Pet body language decoder, why does my dog pant and why does my dog shake, for describing normal on the daily-care card.
Substances and plants, for the “must never have” line
- Poison control directory and the poison control directory.
- Chocolate, xylitol, grapes and raisins, onion and garlic, ibuprofen and paracetamol.
- Lilies and cats, peace lily, sago palm, oleander, azaleas.
First aid pages, all of which end at a phone call
- Choking, seizures, bleeding and wounds, heatstroke.
- The first aid kit checklist, the hazards calendar and is it too hot to walk my dog.
Living with the animal, for the daily-care card
- The first eight weeks, the new puppy checklist and the first 48 hours with a rescue dog.
- Why your cat stopped using the litter box and litter box problems, plus why cats like boxes for the hiding-places line.
- Indoor versus outdoor cats, how much exercise a dog needs and how to switch food safely.
- Senior dog care, how often to see the vet and the kitten and cat vaccination schedule.
- The breed selector quiz, for anybody at the stage before all of this.
Money, and the dated reference pages
- Pet insurance guide, vet costs guide, pet costs, pet cost calculator and the pet ownership costs report.
- Dog cost per year by country, pet care by country and the pet care world map - dated pages, maintained separately.
- Pet travel rules by country, airline pet policies and pet law and travel rule changes - also dated, and also not a substitute for your own government’s source.
- The site disclaimer.
What “prepared” does not mean
A folder is a good thing and it is a small thing. It is worth being clear about the size of what it does, because the failure mode of a page like this is somebody finishing it and believing they have bought more than they have.
It does not mean you can handle it yourself. The folder makes the phone call better. It does not replace the phone call, and there is no version of this page on which it does. Every road ends at a veterinary professional who can see the animal.
It does not mean you will know what is wrong. Nothing in this folder diagnoses anything. It describes an animal; it does not interpret one.
It does not mean nothing bad will happen. Prepared people have emergencies too. What the folder changes is the first ten minutes, and the first ten minutes are worth changing.
It does not mean you should wait. If anything about your animal worries you, the correct response is to contact your practice, not to finish filling in a card first. A blank folder and a phone call beats a perfect folder and a delay every single time.
It does not mean you failed if you never needed it. Most folders are never used in anger. That is the best possible outcome and it does not make the evening you spent on it wasted - it makes it insurance of the only kind that costs nothing.
And one last thing. If you have read this far and done nothing, do one item. Write down the weight, with the date. Or phone your practice tomorrow and ask who covers you at night. Either one, on its own, is worth more than an unstarted folder, and either one takes less time than reading this paragraph did.
This page is not veterinary advice. Paw Multiverse is not a veterinary practice. We cannot examine, diagnose or treat your animal. Nothing on this page tells you what is wrong with an animal, what to do about it, what to give it, how much of anything, or when. There are no medicines here, no doses, no home remedies and no first aid technique - deliberately, and without exception.
The medication, parasite and vaccination sections are records. They ask you to transcribe, word for word, what a veterinary professional has already prescribed, given or written down, from their own paperwork. They never ask you to choose, change, start, stop, adjust or calculate anything. If a line on your own paperwork is unclear, ask the practice that wrote it.
The consent and quality-of-life material is personal, not prescriptive. It describes the kinds of question that get asked so that they are not a surprise, and it is explicitly a conversation to have with your own veterinary professional, who has met your animal. It contains no criteria, no scale and no recommendation, because none of those would be ours to give.
If something is wrong now, phone. Go to before you call the vet, the triage helper or find an emergency vet, and make the call. Then come back afterwards and fill this in, because there will be an afterwards. Full terms are on the site disclaimer.