Many include provision for their pets in their wills.
Many a film refers to this too. Alas, it’s cheap tedious fare that’s unworthy of your time or attention. (I’ve viewed them so you don’t have to. You’re welcome. Oh, the labours to which I go for my art.) Many a third-rate, not-fit-for-a weekday-afternoon, direct-to-TV film has a plot point, sometimes a central plot, where some eccentric millionaire has left a fortune to a pet, usually a dog.
In this regard, many cite Leona Hemsley, the hustling hotel heiress, who left a fortune amounting to £13m in today’s money to her pet. Leona infamously opined in sincerity, with no hint of the slightest shadow of a trace of self-awareness, that only little people pay taxes, displaying the sort of contempt for the general populace for which I invite you to supply your own contemporary metaphor. In a fit of the faux iconoclastic, she named her dog Trouble.
‘Tis the simplest matter in the world to make provisions for you animals in your will. You’d be requesting, but not demanding or making the care of your pet a condition of any bequest or legacy (conditions in wills are the devil’s instrument).
You might, although often unnecessary, leave a sum of the order of five thousand pounds to the person charged with care of the beast. Like with any item in your will, the request can be declined. In such an event the executors would by their best endeavours, ensure the animal is well looked after. If it came to it, the pet would be sent to a local sanctuary.
Let’s think on this for seven seconds: animals can’t own property, animals can’t hold property, animals can’t accept gifts in wills.
Filmmakers do the public and their profession a disservice with the lumpen, turgid films that imply pets can be the recipients of gifts in wills.
Leona Hemsley was, with the subtly of a sledgehammer parading her contempt for folk less wealthy than she.