I doubted realvetcost.com. Then my Boxer, Alf, got sick

On the evening of July 27, 2026, I was working when I heard strange noises from the living room. A kind of thumping of a body against the floor. Alf was having an epileptic seizure. He was unaware of anything, and I was in shock. It woke my wife too, and neither of us had any idea what to do.

Alf was our brindle, majestic buddy with an excellent pedigree. His parents and grandparents had tested hips and spines, his father's line tested hearts as well. He was born on March 3, 2020, and as an adult he weighed over 31 kilos, about 69 lb.

I'm not a vet. I'm a UX designer, and I build realvetcost.com, a database of health risks for 471 dog and cat breeds. For every breed you see which conditions are recorded most often and what their treatment costs, so you have a fairly precise idea of what may be coming. Since that evening I know what it's like when statistics stop being numbers and start applying to your own dog.

What came before

For years, about once every six months, Alf would suddenly freeze, as if he'd switched off. He'd lie down, and a moment later he was fine again. He had an ultrasound for it and nothing turned up. He often ate grass and then threw up. We took it as a normal thing. Nobody told us otherwise.

In the summer of 2025, in the woods, during a stressful moment and in enormous heat, something happened that I put down to overheating. I was alone with my little daughter and had no idea how I would carry a 30-kilo dog and look after a small child at the same time. Looking back, I think it was his first seizure.

In 2025 he also grew a lump on his gum, an epulis. The surgery under anesthesia cost about $300 (CZK 7,000), and Alf walked out of the clinic as if nothing had happened. Right after the procedure.

On the day of the seizure I was uneasy. Alf was thin and not himself at all. I thought he felt bad because we had postponed his deworming. And I kept pushing my wife to get him an earlier vet appointment. He was booked for the next afternoon.

Ultrasound: a tumor in the belly

That same evening I called the 24/7 emergency line of the University of Veterinary Sciences Brno. We go there with serious things, because they have every piece of equipment and I trust them. They said that if the seizure didn't continue, we should come in the morning, when all the specialists would be available.

The next day the ultrasound showed a tumor in his abdomen. The vets suspected there could be another one in his head. They took blood, and we spent almost the whole day at the clinic. The diagnostics cost $240 (CZK 5,511). We agreed to come back in a week for a full-body CT scan under anesthesia and to decide on surgery based on the result. For the day of surgery, the clinic asked for a $565 (CZK 13,000) deposit, and they laid out the price transparently. Before the trip, paying $435 (CZK 10,000) for an examination seemed unthinkable to me. Then I stopped caring. I wanted a healthy dog.

The plan was this: first the CT under anesthesia, with the operating room prepared. If it turned out he really had a tumor in his head and surgery made no sense, we would call it off.

CT: the finding in the head was confirmed

The CT on August 5 showed both. In his abdomen there was a mass of roughly 9 x 15 x 18 cm, about 3.5 x 6 x 7 inches, most likely growing from the wall of his small intestine. The most likely diagnosis they listed was GIST, a tumor of the gastrointestinal wall. Around it were small nodules suspicious for metastases. In his brain, in the right frontal lobe, there was a 24 x 20 mm lesion, either a metastasis or another tumor. According to the breeder, his mother had a brain tumor too, and most likely his father as well. Both died fairly young.

The vets walked us through the findings, the options and the prognosis. The tumor in his belly was huge and kept him from eating, which is why he was losing weight. The one in his head, they said, wasn't big, had probably been there for a while and could in theory be kept stable with medication. I decided he was worth it to us. We didn't want to put him to sleep; he was our buddy, and we believed he would go on to live a good life.

The surgeons removed the tumor along with a piece of his intestine. He was under anesthesia for almost three hours. He stayed at the clinic for two nights, and on August 7 we brought him home.

At home after the surgery

For the first few days he was cheerful and ate with appetite. My three-year-old daughter kept covering him with a blanket. We were together, and he seemed present and content again. On August 14 I was still writing to his vet that he was thriving and happy. My wife then took him for his check-up, the stitches came out and everything looked fine. And right after that, things turned. He was listless. He just lay there. Boxers don't show pain, but we could see he felt terrible. Then came another strong seizure. My daughter was in the bath and kept shouting: "What's happening?"

Saying goodbye

My wife made the grown-up decision: "I don't want him to suffer." Years ago she saw her family put off euthanizing a dog until he was suffering terribly, and we didn't want that for Alf. On August 19, 2026, we had him put to sleep. Luckily, the kids didn't see either of the seizures. We said goodbye to him at home, the whole family. Then my wife drove him to the clinic. He walked in like a gentleman, no cart. He went peacefully, and I'm sure it was a relief for him.

The vets told us the histology result only when he was put to sleep: the tumor was malignant. Alf had cancer.

He was a strong, vital dog, and I don't think he would have wanted to be this broken. He was a gentleman of a dog who fiercely guarded his garden against intruders but greeted friends with endless joy. A working, highly driven breed for which family is the most important thing in the world. For me too. That's why I love Boxers, and that's why, just 14 days later, we went to pick up another one. This time a white girl, Kuki z Fender Edda. Gentle, calm and clever.

"The Boxer's character could be summed up in one word - a goof. But it has nothing to do with stupidity or dullness. It is rather a kind of playful clowning, yet always with a sense of its own dignity. And none of it comes at the expense of sharpness, courage and decisiveness in the moments when the interests of its pack, its people, are at stake."

Alfréd Justitz, 1932, quoted in Martin Říha's book Německý boxer (The German Boxer), translated from Czech

What it cost

I had no pet insurance. When it started, I couldn't imagine it might cost us more than $435 (CZK 10,000).

• Diagnostics on July 28 (ultrasound, blood work, exam): $240 (CZK 5,511)
• CT scan, surgery and two nights at the clinic (August 5 to 7): roughly $2,050 (CZK 47,000). A $565 (CZK 13,000) cash deposit, a $1,220 (CZK 28,000) balance by card, and an estimated $260 (CZK 6,000) in cash for the CT and blood tests. I no longer have the exact invoice.
• Euthanasia: $105 (CZK 2,405)
• Cremation: $395 (CZK 9,100)
• Total for August: roughly $2,800 (CZK 64,000)

Care is expensive even where it's good. I can't imagine what this case would have cost us at an ordinary private clinic.

My thanks to the whole team of the Small Animal Clinic at the University of Veterinary Sciences Brno. For looking after Alf, for being straight with us, and for how they treated him right to the end. By name: Dr. Tereza Vavřínová and Dr. Pavel Schánilec in internal medicine, Dr. Hana Moserová for the CT, Dr. Petr Raušer for the anesthesia, Dr. Andrea Nečasová and Dr. Staňková for the surgery, and Dr. Kristýna Lukešová and Dr. Michaela Suchanová for the intensive care.

What my site says about Boxers, and what came true for Alf

Sitting outside the clinic, I was smoking a cigar, feeling pretty screwed, and looking at my own site. It said the same thing: teeth and tumors. Until then I had been doubting the project a little. There I saw that the numbers matched reality, and that it really mattered.

The Boxer page is based mainly on a UK study of 3,219 Boxers seen in regular veterinary practices:

• Dental disease ranks first. On a proper exam, 44-64% of dogs show signs of periodontal disease. Alf: an epulis, and "marked periodontopathy" on his CT, meaning disease of the tissues around the teeth.
• Tumors rank third. 14.2% of Boxers had one recorded within a single year, benign or malignant. Cancer is the most common recorded cause of death in the breed, accounting for 12.4% of deaths. Alf: a malignant tumor in his abdomen and a lesion in his brain.
• The heart ranks sixth, including Boxer cardiomyopathy. Alf: his heart was normal on the CT and on exam.

All the numbers, with sources, are on the Boxer page.

The site doesn't diagnose and doesn't predict. With Alf, it pointed the right way on two out of three. Breed risks are not one dog's destiny. They tell you where to look and roughly what cost to prepare for.

What I would do differently

His sudden freezing, the seizure in the woods, the occasional grass-eating and vomiting: I would take all of it to the veterinary university again. Our family vet assured us it was normal, and I don't want to offend him. But this was for specialists. Now I understand how to proceed next time I'm not okay with a quick verdict. A Boxer can live to 15.

A pedigree doesn't protect against breed risks. Alf's parents and grandparents passed hip and spine tests, his father's line heart tests as well. Tumors were not among those tests. His mother still had a brain tumor, and most likely his father too.

Work out what a serious problem would cost, and keep a cushion for it, or insurance. Taken out preventively, of course, and before your dog gets sick. I had neither, and we paid for the whole of August ourselves.

This applies to every breed, not just Boxers. Find your breed and see what not to take lightly and what to watch with extra attention: realvetcost.com/dog-breeds/