(MONEY Magazine) – There's no one named Wally at our house. Or Ward, or June or the Beav. But there is a certain suburban sitcom quality to life these days at 28 Waterbury Rd. Call it Leave It to the Retriever (and if you do leave it, chances are it'll be chewed on before you get back). In this case, the retriever is a spirited 75-pound purebred golden named Sunshine that my wife Sally and I bought last June from a breeding kennel in East Brunswick, N.J. Price: $600. The 20-month-old bundle of muscle and male hormones has changed everything: the lawn, the shrubs, sleeping habits, dining customs, evenings at home -- and especially my concept of the cost of animal companionship. In my innocence before Sunshine, for example, I assumed that a reasonably durable rubber ball for playing fetch would cost $3 tops. Wrong, dogbreath! The kind recommended by no less an authority than the Golden Retriever Club of America is a poochproof English import called Cressite. It set me back $7.99. And the $7.99 was just the down payment. The damned ball has cost me $124.29 -- including the $116.30 paid to City Glass Works to repair the four windows (three garage-door and one bathroom) that Sally and I have shattered (two windows each) with the rock-hard, 10-ounce sphere. And so it has gone in a dozen or so other categories of canine outlays, from food and toys to grooming and boarding. Now don't get me wrong. Sunshine is everything we ever wanted in a dog. He's loyal, provides entertainment and is easy to please. It's just that my wife and I, who have no children to spoil yet, are spending more time and money on him than we ever thought we would. Our only consolation, I suppose, is that apparently we are not alone. Says Rebecca R. Turner, editor of Veterinary Economics: ''Prospective pet owners don't realize the financial commitment they're making when they first see a cute little animal.'' Now she tells me! After six months of Sunshine, it comes as no surprise to me that pet care is a $12 billion-plus-a-year business in the U.S. An estimated $6 billion of that goes to feed our furry, feathered and finned friends. By the way, that's almost $4 billion a year more than we shell out for baby food. Medical care for cats and dogs adds another $4.6 billion or so. And pet gear contributes an additional $1.7 billion to the total. Those billions, though, vastly understate the true expense by omitting, among other things, extra housecleaning and outright destruction. Without going into details, it's easy to see how these costs alone could run into the hundreds or even thousands of dollars per household, adding millions or perhaps billions to the annual pet bill. On this score my wife and I have limited our losses, luckily, to a single canvas-and-rubber shoe -- hers, thank goodness -- and, arguably, a trio of freshly planted $20 azaleas, which I maintain succumbed more to heavy rainfall than to Sunshine. Finally there's the nickel-and-dime stuff: shoes that must be polished more regularly to remove scuffs and dirt left by paws, and clothes that must be dry-cleaned more frequently because they inevitably come into contact with hair, mud and, in the case of affectionate dogs, slobber. But as I have found, there are ways that smart consumers can cut canine costs. They range from exerting firm self-control over animal-induced spendaholism -- the just-say-no defense (not yet mastered by me) -- to being willing to substitute your own labor for that of a manufacturer or service provider. By following such strategies, I estimate that my total dog-related outlays could easily have been sliced by a third and probably much more. And I'm not just talking chopped liver and beef chunks either. I am sickened to admit that in 180 days or so I've spent roughly $3,000 -- over and above Sunshine's purchase price (see the box at right). The cost-cutting tips that follow are pitched primarily to the nation's 35 million pooch-owning households. Naturally, though, many canine cost-cutting strategies will work with other animals. Read them, and profit, at my expense: Lesson No. 1: Don't buy what Fido doesn't need. It's easy to spoil your pet with toys, garments and accessories, perhaps especially if you are single or part of a guilt-ridden working couple (as I am) who want to compensate their creature for having to spend its days at home alone. But I ask you: Does your pooch really need the machine-washable, crew-neck, wool-blend knit sweater bearing the name and colors of your favorite NFL team? You could get one (until the popular items recently sold out) for $25 plus shipping and handling from Animail (800-255-3723), a pet-care-products mail-order house in Chattanooga. The matching sweater for the master of the house went for $60. Now I grant that people need sweaters to keep warm. But dogs don't -- they survived without them for the roughly 14,000 years since they evolved from wolves -- and they sure don't know who the Chicago Bears are. So go easy on discretionary products. They're addictive. Instead, limit yourself to the essentials: a sturdy nylon collar ($5 or so) and six-foot lead ($5 to $9), a few durable chew toys (Nylabone and Booda Bones are excellent values at $4 to $10 or so), and premium-quality food like Iams, Hill's Science Diet and ANF ($25 to $30 for a 40-pound bag). Lesson No. 2: Don't let your dog live better than you do. Consider the matter of doggie dishware. The most upscale variety by far is the proper- posture dish set ($89.50 and up from Hammacher Schlemmer) that sits at Rover's shoulder level to ensure that he needn't stoop to conquer his food or water. The cold, hard fact is that it seems no inconvenience at all for dogs to eat from a dish on the kitchen floor; indeed, judging from their behavior on nightly walks, they seem rather to enjoy having their noses at ground level. But if that product seems easy to pass by, others are not. Take Sunshine's 10-inch English-crockery ceramic food dish. We selected it because its blue and tan hues blended well with those of our kitchen. At $17.99, though, it cost roughly $6 more than the Dansk dinner plates on which the household's two humans dine. A stainless-steel, tip-proof dish with a nonskid base ($10 or so) would have sufficed.

Lesson No. 3: An ounce of prevention is better than a pounding at the vet. For example, the best way to cut vet bills, which average a moderate $83 a year for the typical dog-owning household, is to ''make sure your pet has an annual physical,'' says American Kennel Club vice president Alan Stern. That step, he observes, can keep a minor veterinary ailment from deteriorating into a major medical and financial problem. And don't let that low average annual vet bill fool you. ''The costs for complicated procedures can sometimes get into the thousands,'' says editor Turner of Veterinary Economics. Nowadays, she points out, ''you can even get heart pacemakers for your pet, and reconstructive facial surgery.'' And a CAT scan for your dog -- the word alone is an affront to a canine -- can easily run up to $600, and don't try slipping the bill to Blue Cross. Lesson No. 4: Consult your vet before buying flea-and-tick products. By some estimates, pest control for dogs and cats is a $1 billion-a-year business. Worse, much of the money is poorly spent. Reason: many products are unproven or ineffective. Flea-and-tick collars, for instance, are the No. 1 anti-pest seller, points out Dr. Steven A. Melman, director of the Animal Dermatology Clinic in Potomac, Md. ''But on dogs,'' he says, ''they don't work very well. The collar is around the dog's neck, but fleas tend to stay near the tail and groin.'' Ditto flea-and-tick shampoos. ''First you dilute the chemicals with water,'' says Melman, ''then you wash them off.'' As for ultrasonic collars that purport to create a Gaddafi-like zone of flea death around Bowser, don't waste your $40 or so. Says Melman: ''No controlled study backs them up.'' Far better, he says, to rely on weekly whole-body pesticidal dips and daily sprays with nonaerosol anti-pest products containing chemicals called pyrethrins. A season's worth of protection shouldn't cost more than $50 to $75. Lesson No. 5: Invest in obedience training. Here you spend money to save money. A dog that knows it shouldn't jump up on you or your guests, smearing a silk dress with muddy forepaws, is a dog that costs less to own and operate. And you don't need to spend the $300 or more for training that competition dog owners sometimes do. Obedience classes sponsored by local recreation or continuing-education departments typically cost around $50 for a series of six to eight weekly hour-long lessons. If you prefer private training, your veterinarian or local pet shop owner may be able to refer you to a professional dog trainer. That's the $40-an-hour route we took with Sunshine. Lesson No. 6: Do it yourself. The most obvious arena for applying this maxim is in grooming. You can buy shampoos, combs, brushes, nail trimmers, scissors and even electric clippers for well under $100 total. Throw in a book on grooming like All (132) Breed Dog Grooming (TFH Publications, $24.95), and unless you're preparing Fifi for the show ring, you can probably learn to do a serviceable wash-and-clip job yourself. The savings: $20 to $40 for every beauty shop visit you cut out. Or consider bedding for your dog. L.L. Bean's cedar-chip-filled dog bed is a sturdy product priced at $45 for the 43-inch variety. But if you go to a pet supply store and buy a liner ($24) and a 2.25- cubic-foot bag of cedar chips ($9) separately, as I did, you can build your own dog bed in about two minutes and save $12 in the bargain. Never mind that Sunshine still prefers the floor. Lesson No. 7: Find the right retailer. Many pet shops operate at 31% to 50% profit margins, but some work on lower markups. Your job is to find them. Large, glitzy malls aren't the best places to look. Instead, consult the Yellow Pages under ''Pet Supplies & Foods -- Retail.'' You're likelier to find a high-volume, low-cost location that has more in common with a rural feed store or warehouse-style outlet than with a high-profit pet emporium. The price differences can be dramatic. A few months ago, I paid $18.99 at a small pet shop for what seemed like a can't-miss retriever toy: a hambone- scented Frisbee. To my dismay, I later saw the same item at Jay-Tee's Pet Specialties, a high-volume pet food and supply store in Montclair, N.J., for $8. (As if aware of my folly, Sunshine completely ignores the item.) If you cannot find such a discounter in your area -- and sometimes even if you can -- you can save money by going the mail-order route. Prices on many products are 15% to 45% off retail. Leading mail-order discounters include J-B Wholesale Pet Supplies (800-526-0388, 201-423-2222 in New Jersey), R.C. Steele Wholesale Dog Equipment & Kennel Supplies (800-872-3773) and Cherrybrook Wholesale Kennel, Show & Grooming Supplies (800-524-0820, 201-689-7979 in New Jersey). So after six months as a dog owner, would I do it all again? Sure. Would I spend as foolishly? Heck, no. Will I be asking my boss for a raise soon? Not after he sees how I spent the last one.

BOX: HOW I SPENT $3,647 ON SUNSHINE

< My largest canine-related outlays in the six months through November were for fence improvements and a guilt-assuaging weekday dog-walking service at $8 a pop.

UP-FRONT COSTS Fence improvements $630 Sunshine 600 Crate 180 Doggie dishware 46 Collar, lead 35

CARE AND FEEDING Dog-walking service $904 Boarding (during vacation) 190 Food and treats 150 Vet care, vaccinations 140 Toys (balls, bones, chews) 137 Miscellaneous 88 Flea and pest control 52 Professional grooming 52 Combs, brushes, shampoos 37 Bed 33 License, registration 15

EDUCATION Obedience lessons $120 Training collars, leads 22

DAMAGE CONTROL Windows $116 Azaleas 60 Extra dry cleaning 40

TOTAL $3,647