I'm no fiscal guru. As my wife will attest, I can barely balance our checkbook, let alone forecast economics. Yet, I know the U.S. economy is in dire straits. I know times are desperate because you've told me. And our furry friends are beginning to pay a price.

As one listener of my Chicago-based WGN radio show explained on the air, "We really love our dog, but we also live with my mother-in-law. We can't throw Grandma out on the street. And our two children still desire things. Something has to give." Sure, enough, the family companion, Chester -- through no fault of his own -- was dropped at a local animal shelter the next day. This listener, who called himself Vince, wasn't an anomaly.

A listener named Paul said his job was foreclosing on 60 to 100 homes weekly across the northwest suburbs of Chicago, often more than 400 homes a month. He begged other listeners not to leave their animals behind in empty homes. "Not only are people leaving the pets to starve to death, but even worse, local animal control isn't always accepting responsibility when I report it," he said.

Michele e-mailed from Fort Lauderdale, Fla., to say she switched from an expensive prescription kidney diet for her senior cat in renal failure to a less costly over-the-counter diet, also marketed for cats with kidney issues. While her vet suggested the decision isn't in the best interest of her cat, Michele says, "I've made compromises with my own life. I only go to matinee movies; I'm more aware of sales at the grocery store, and I haven't purchased any new clothes in over a month, and don't expect I will, except as Christmas gifts for others."

I began writing my national pet column in the mid-1990s, so I can't comment on how the economic downturn in the late '80s affected pets. Interestingly, after 9/11, as our economy whimpered, pets had lots to bark about. Adoptions and spending actually increased. Heading into 2008, as an economic category, pets pulled ahead of jewelry and hardware to the tune of $41 million, according to Bob Vetere, president of the American Pet Product Manufacturers Association.

As for pet adoption numbers, lots of factors, such as Iams' effective Home 4 the Holidays campaign, as well as a mounting pro-adoption culture, helped boost adoptions after 9/11. But something else was been going on, too. I could play armchair psychologist and add that, perhaps feeling threatened and a little afraid, we needed the companionship and dependability of pets after 9/11. When the unpredictable lurked around the corner, we sought trustworthiness, which only our pets could give us. But that was then.

Today, around America, some shelters are seeing a distinct decline in adoptions. Worse, once-loved pets are being given up because "we can't afford the animal." In too many instances, either out of embarrassment to surrender at a potentially judgmental shelter, or maybe because pets are now the last thing on their minds, some families are opening the door and letting their animals fend for themselves. After foreclosures, some animals are literally left behind.

A listener phoned in recently to ask what to do about his failing 20-year-old cat, who had begun to have accidents and bump into objects in the home. It turned out that for whatever reason, the caller was about to lose his apartment and might be homeless. His only thought was to find temporary homes for his remaining cats. His voice cracking, he said, "This cat (the 20-year old) helped me to get to sobriety."

When I asked how a cat could do that, he paused and answered, "Love, true unconditional love. And lots of purring. Now, I feel I can't afford to do right by this cat."

Some people being hit the hardest are those who arguably need a pet the most. Nancy E., of Charlotte, N.C., wrote to say that she was 86 and had outlived most of her family. Even her only daughter had died. She said that in the past few years, due to medical expenses, she had gone through more money than she ever dreamed she'd spend. While she was in the hospital, a neighbor cared for Spike, her little terrier mix.

Now, quickly running out of money, Nancy has no choice but to live under Medicaid in a nursing home. The only facility that will accept her, however, won't accept her best friend. "I'm pleased my loving neighbor will care for Spike. He loves their family," she commented. "I know the end is coming for me, but this is no way to have it happen. I've lost my dignity, and most of all, I've lost my best friend. I've done nothing to deserve this."

Spike has done nothing wrong, either, nor have other pets being given up.

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