Reminds me of when my cousin was young, he insisted that my aunt take his 4-year old hamster to the vet. The vet told him that the tumor was pretty bad and that surgery would be expensive, but "There is hope for the little guy." (Of course, he said that in front of the crying 7-8 year old).
30 minutes later, my aunt was out $300, but gained a dead hamster.
As my father loves to say when retelling the story... "That's like taking a disposable lighter to a repair shop."