At a large veterinary meeting recently, the human/veterinary equivalent of the Grey Muzzle organization met together over cocktails—all Social Security and Medicare recipients. One of the table mates came up with the brilliant conversation starter: “Let’s say that all of us here at this table started again. We’re in our 20s again, and we are applying to veterinary school. How would we, our classmates, our education experience, and future employment and careers look different?” The premise: Let’s compare the past and the future (Class of 1980 vs. Class of 2030). The promise: While the tools, support systems, and expectations have changed, the heart of the profession remains the same over five decades. We are all united by a calling to care for animals and support the people who care for and love them. The past Starting veterinary school 50 years ago, nobody gave us an introductory talk on the first day of our education, telling us to enjoy the process, to look after our emotional health, and that everyone would graduate. Less stress? Pffft. More stress. More competition than we had ever faced came in waves like surfing. There was no white coat ceremony or leadership/teamwork retreats. Professors did not provide lecture notes, there were zero free meals to choose from with competing noon events, and end-of-semester parties were legendary. Oh, I almost forgot, we did have a mental health counselor available at all hours. Jack. Jack Daniels. With little or no student debt, we found jobs by going back to the area we grew up in or looking at listings in the back of the Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association (JAVMA). Like everyone before us, we knew we had to hit the ground running. We would be expected to match the practice owner, partner, or other vets, and work 60 hours per week. Plus, emergencies. With the probability of being a practice partner, we had a great chance of “doing well by doing good.” A young Dr. Marty Becker (top) vaccinates a Schnauzer puppy. Like many veterinarians, Becker's love for animals started early. In his case demonstrated by him participating in fundraising events for local shelters when he was a youngster (below). Photos courtesy Dr. Marty Becker For veterinary students starting their education in 2025, a laundry list of resources will be outlined for students. Poignant White Coat ceremonies will foreshadow a prestigious career. An emphasis will be placed on both students’ physical and emotional health, professors will provide lecture notes, and students can eat 10,000 calories per week courtesy of the animal health, animal nutrition, and group practices that provide food to get derrieres in chairs. Most schools have robust mental health services (I really applaud this!) and recruitment can start as early as the sophomore year. Group practice recruiters bellow many of the same promises to potential hires: a) under 40 hours per week, b) often three-four days per week, c) mentorship, d) generous benefits packages, e) generous CE package, and f) mental health counseling available. Each student will have multiple job offers to work in almost any zip code in the U.S. Student debt is, well, almost unfathomably high. Let me lay out the results of the table conversation among us veterinarians who were close to or retired, and I encourage you to add your opinions on the differences in education, experience, and financial and emotional success. Ease around animals Most of my classmates were from farms/ranches in rural areas. We had handled large animals and companion animals and had seen births and deaths multiple times. While rough around the edges, we had experience and muscle memory regarding animal handling. Today’s veterinary students typically do not come from rural backgrounds, have minimal experience handling a wide variety of animals, do a lot more with simulation and models vs. live animals, and have not witnessed both animal births and deaths. Simple vs. advanced diagnostics You must remember to walk before you run with diagnostics. You walk through a major veterinary convention today, and you see booth after booth touting artificial intelligence (AI) to help read radiographs, skin scrapings, urinalysis and fecal samples, and blood smears. I still practice, and I really think that this is an amazing advancement. What has been the result of an almost knee-jerk reliance on routine, big-bore, shotgun diagnostics? Veterinary costs that are too high for far too many pet parents, and veterinarians with greatly diminished basic diagnostic skills. There is not enough focus on and respect for a comprehensive physical exam and consultation. A practitioner should be highly trained in using all his/her senses to detect diseases or conditions in their earliest phases. Let’s take the venerable stethoscope. It is not the stereotypical symbol of a doctor that all must wear, an accouterment, or as one recently called, “neck candy.” It would be eye-opening to have a class of 1980 veterinarians and a class of 2010 veterinarians examine the same pet and compare S.O.A.P.s. The veterinarian getting social security benefits would have used their eyes, nose, ears, and touch to do a Star Trek scan of the pet. Looked at the tip-of-the-nose to the tip-of-the-tail. Looked at the nostrils, eyes, deep in the mouth, inside ears, etc. We would have closely listened to the heart, chest, and abdomen. Skilled hands would cover the entire body, feeling for anything (lumps, lesions, tenderness, excessive heat, painful areas), or things that are enlarged. We would routinely sniff out skin issues and routinely catch arthritic joints early on. If things continue as they are in vet med, the 2030 graduate will poo-poo a really good history and will trade great in-the-trenches diagnostic skills for ordering a barrage of tests and/or referring to specialists. Jack/Jill of All Trades In practicality, we, “Michael Jackson vets” (he had the most Billboard #1 ’80s hits, with nine) knew when we went out into practice that we had no backstop for medical or surgical cases other than more experienced folks in the practice, our books, or very occasional calls with a professor from vet school. There were no specialty practices, VIN, or Google or YouTube to help you in a pickle. Mea culpa time. As an average or even below-average veterinarian (when you combine all diagnostic and surgical skills), I did cruciate repair, spinal surgery, whole limb amputations, splenectomies, perineal urethrostomies, end-to-end anastomosis to remove a necrotic section of gut, even ophthalmologic surgeries. I was not a great surgeon, but the results were not that bad. Paralyzed dachshunds walked, cats no longer strained at the litter box, three-legged dogs kept on moving on, and for dogs that had had an intestinal obstruction, chow started moving from north to south. We were the ultimate doctors (my sister is an MD), treating multiple species, multiple breeds, all age groups, internists, surgeons, radiologists, pharmacists, you name it. Practicing veterinary medicine was delightfully challenging, white-knuckle exhilarating; never predictable or boring. Too many of today’s students graduate thinking—knowing—they will routinely refer to specialists, and do very little surgeries than the most routine. Relationship vs. average client charge I was taught by my mentor, Ross Clark, DVM, to not think of what a client was willing or able to spend today, but rather, what that client would spend over—not just a lifetime of care for the pet in front of me—generations of family pets. Future lifetime value. Too many of today’s veterinarians (and the group practices that push them) are transactional and focus on the average client charge like it is the North Star of a successful career. Let me illustrate this with a perfect example. I have had ownership in eight veterinary practices and have literally led and/or mentored hundreds of veterinarians. As Dr. Clark taught me, I called back every single client. One call for routine things, such as vaccinations, dentals, or spay/neuter; two calls for intermediate problems, such as vomiting dogs or plugged cats, with three calls for animals that had been hit by a car, mauled, had spinal surgery, limb amputation, etc. I made calls from the practice with noise in the background, so people knew I was still there. As I was taught to be truthful, I would typically preface the call with something like, “I was just getting ready to go into an exam room, go into surgery, consult with a colleague, or go to lunch/home…but I wanted to call and see how ___ was doing.” This is how you build a deep, trusting relationship with clients. Class of 2030 vets will be taught to delegate callbacks to vet techs or other team members. This is transactional vet med, where clients are more like a number than a brick in the building. The future So, speaking directly to veterinary students or those who recently graduated, here are five things you can do to capture some of the old-school magic we possess: Work-life balance. While I don’t think you should work 60-80 hours a week, like many of us vets with more back hair than hair on our heads did, working the 30-hour/four-day-per-week schedule common with group practices is never, ever, going to let you generate enough income to thrive See more patients. I’m shocked to hear in many group practices, you only have to see eight to 10 patients per day. What? One of the most popular, productive, and talented veterinarians I know, Jeff Werber, DVM, of Los Angeles, Calif., sees more than 40 patients a day and routinely brings in $14-16K/day. Yeah, multiply your 20 percent by those figures and determine how much you can make.Is Dr. Werber overpriced? Not at all, in fact, his fees are more reasonable (read value; benefits/price = value) than all other practices in his market area. Where do his clients/patients come from? Not from advertising, but from word-of-mouth referrals from the relationships he has developed and maintained. Werber recently shared with me that now, after 40 years of practice, he is caring for the grandchildren of many of his original clients from the ’80s. I applaud and cheer the fact Werber measures his success not by how much money he makes but by the strength and number of long-term relationships he’s made over the years. Want shorthand? Werber is “financially successful and emotionally wealthy.” After 40 years of practice, Dr. Jeff Werber has established long-term relationships with his clients. His patients/clients come from word-of-mouth referrals. He now cares for the grandchildren of his original clients from the '80s. Photo courtesy Dr. Jeff Werber When they turn right…you turn left. When I graduated from veterinary school, almost every practice was open 8-5 M-F and maybe 9-12 on Saturday. We knew convenience was becoming king and operated what we promoted as EZ Pet Hours: 7-7-7 days per week 365 days per year. Others struggled, and we soared. If I was a new veterinary student mired in dept but hungry for radical success, I will try and work from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. four to five days per week. Pet parents constrained by regular practice hours and not willing to stomach the wait and high fees of emergency would pack your practice like sardines. You could charge fees 20 percent higher than daytime hours and still give extreme value. I predict you would have vet techs clamoring to work with you. Why? I have traveled extensively for years and night shift employees at hotels love it…primarily because it fits in with two income households and childcare issues. Partnership or ownership. Even today, buying a house vs. renting is the best way to create wealth. Same with practice. Buying into a practice or starting one from scratch is the best way to create wealth. Master mentorship. Most group practices have good mentor programs, but I’m talking about something else here. I have nearly traveled to 100 countries, and in many parts of the world, tribal elders, village elders, and family elders are revered, consulted with, and taught. As a 2030 veterinary school graduate, how would you like to have someone like Dr. Werber, who could be the poster child for finding “financial success and emotional wealth” teach you to do the same? To never be bored, seldom stressed, to love what you do for 50 years, send dozens of team members to vet school, and help pets, people, and the profession to get to a level you never thought possible. Getting the right mentor is not just possible; it’s probable. Dreams with deadlines, if you will. Let me close with this thought. Another mentor of mine, practice management guru Don Dooley, said, “As a veterinarian, you can have anything you want in life, but not everything.” When I asked him to explain, he broke it into two branches: One, if you want to retire from student debt and put aside money for a house (or buy into a practice), you can, but at the same time, you cannot have two car payments and spend too much on toys. Likewise, if you want more time with family, you can work less and budget to get by with less, but if you want to make a really good living as a veterinarian, pay off debt quickly, have two dependable cars, go on vacation, and start saving for the kid’s college…this, too, is possible. You will just have to work 60 hours a week, see 15-20 patients per day, or work that 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. shift, four days per week I was talking about. Marty Becker, DVM, is a Sandpoint, Idaho practitioner and founder of the Fear Free initiative. For more information about the organization or to register for certification, visit http://fearfree.com/. Columnists’ opinions do not necessarily reflect those of Veterinary Practice News.