No More Homeless Pets Vet — My Honest Take

I’m Kayla, and I’ve been to the No More Homeless Pets vet clinic a few times now. Different pets. Different moods. Same goal: get them healthy and keep my wallet alive. I’ve also put together a more granular breakdown of those visits in this honest review if you want every last number, tip, and takeaway.

You know what? It wasn’t perfect. But it felt real, and it helped us when we needed help most.

First visit: my shy pup, Miso

Miso is a pit mix with big eyes and a jelly belly. She shakes at the vet. Like, full body tremble. We went in for a spay, microchip, and vaccines. It was July. Hot. The lobby was packed, and I could hear two kittens mewing in a soft carrier behind me.

Check-in took a while. I’m not gonna lie. I waited about 30 minutes. The front desk looked stressed, but a tech named Alejandra came out and crouched to Miso’s level. She didn’t rush. She let Miso sniff her hand. I could breathe again.

They walked me through the plan and gave me a paper with costs. Simple and clear. My bill for that day:

  • Spay: $85 with a city voucher
  • Vaccines: $56
  • Microchip: $20

They called me around noon. “She’s doing great. Still a little sleepy.” When I picked her up, they had a free cone ready and a sheet with aftercare steps. They even marked the pain med times. I love a good checklist. It helps when your brain is full.

That night, Miso ate boiled chicken and slept next to the fan. No drama. A week later, her stitches looked clean, and the tech called to check on us. Small thing, big impact.

A quick detour: the orange cat by the dumpster

Two months later, I met an orange tom behind my apartment. Big head. Scars. Sweet purr. He wasn’t mine, but I felt kind of responsible. The clinic staff told me about their community cat program. Traps. Neuter. Release. Simple and kind.

I named him Pumpkin for one night. He got neutered, got a little ear tip, and went back to his spot. He still waits by the bushes, but now he’s calmer, and there are fewer fights at 2 a.m. My neighbors sleep better. So do I.

Vaccine day with Luna the drama queen

Luna is my gray cat with opinions. She sings the song of her people in the car. We went for shots and a nail trim. It was a Saturday, so the line wrapped around the chairs. I brought a blanket to cover her carrier. Pro tip: that helps. Her heart slowed down, and so did mine.

The tech offered Churu during the jab. Luna didn’t even flinch. We paid at the counter:

  • Rabies + FVRCP: $35 total
  • Nail trim: $10

There was a little vaccine sticker for my fridge. It’s small, but it keeps me organized.

What I liked

  • Prices that didn’t make me cry
  • Real talk from the staff — no fluff, just kind help
  • Clear aftercare sheets and follow-up calls
  • They help pets with no homes, not just mine
  • Saturday vaccine clinic saved me a work day

That mission aligns with the broader goals of the no-kill shelter movement, which focuses on saving healthy and treatable animals whenever possible.

What bugged me a bit

  • Phone hold times are rough; I hung up once after 12 minutes
  • The lobby gets loud and tight at peak hours
  • Parking fills fast; I parked on the street once and carried a meowing carrier three blocks

Still, here’s the thing: they’re busy because they’re helping a lot of folks. I was grumpy, then I saw a kid hugging a big old senior dog in a sweater. I softened up.

If you’re hunting for other affordable clinics in your area, the directory at Pet Care Services is a solid starting point. For folks near Ohio, the recently opened Columbus Humane's Essential Care Center offers similar low-cost veterinary services.

Little extras that mattered

  • They gave me a printed pain med chart with boxes to check
  • The front desk had a food bank flyer for people who need help feeding pets
  • Techs used peanut butter for dogs and Churu for cats (bless them)
  • They reminded me to freeze soft treats for after surgery — it soothed Miso’s tummy

One more real note: money and timing

I’m careful with money. These visits didn’t break us. The waits can be long, and I’ve killed more than a few minutes scrolling through apps to pass the time; if you’re similarly stuck, this no-fluff Tinder hookup guide breaks down how to cut through small talk and line up a same-day meet-up, so at least your thumbs accomplish something useful while you’re on hold. If you’re based near Gallup, New Mexico and would rather skip the endless swiping, the local Gallup hookups bulletin aggregates real-time posts from singles in the area, making it easy to lock in spontaneous plans before the receptionist calls your name. For busy days, I set a morning alarm and bring water, a snack bar, and a phone charger. It’s simple stuff, but it saves your mood.

Final word: would I go back?

Yes. I already have. It’s not a fancy spa vet. It’s a “get care, save lives, keep going” place. My pets did well. Strays in my block did better. And yes, I still get nervous on the drive. But when a tech kneels on the floor and talks soft to your shaking dog? You feel seen.

If your pet needs basic care, and you need fair prices, this clinic gets the job done. Bring patience. Bring a blanket for the carrier. And maybe a treat for yourself too. You’ll both need it.

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