The thought of an animal suffering has always upset me. Growing up, we had pet cows, horses, sheep, goats, dogs and various other beasts, that for some reason required a home and found their way to us. I always thought of these creatures as my friends. The idea of pain or suffering befalling them was enough to bring me to tears. Before I had finished school, I had decided that I wanted to be a voice for the voiceless. To relieve animal suffering. To stand up for those creatures who could not stand up for themselves. That is why I became a vet.
After 10 years in the veterinary industry (plus five years of university, and uncounted hours of continuing education), I have realised that it is not only animals that need a voice, but vets as well. During my years in clinical veterinary practice, I have decided to leave the industry no less than three times. Each time I have been drawn back by my desire to provide care, and relief of suffering, to our animal companions. However, I feel more and more that I, and many of my colleagues, struggle to provide this care at the detriment to our own wellbeing.
You may have seen reference in the media to the high suicide rate among vets. A study by Monash University in 2020 found that, “The suicide rate amongst vets is twice as high as other health disciplines, and four times higher than the general population.” Reasons given for this high suicide rate include access to drugs, and habituation euthanasia. While these factors may contribute, I think that citing means as a cause of suicide is something of a cop out. I would like to share my own experiences as a vet, in the hope that I can raise awareness of what vets deal with on a daily basis. And that perhaps, the next time you visit a vet, or someone you know complains about vet bills, you will be able to consider things from both sides of the examination table.
. . .
Let me first point out that in the few weeks before I write this article, national and international news reports of a 33-year-old vet who took her own life in Melbourne were followed closely by an article from the ABC stating that vets are over-charging for services, and that pets are being euthanised unnecessarily because their owners cannot afford the inflated costs of veterinary care.
This is obviously a sensitive subject. People’s pets are members of their family. The bond between an owner and their pet is something incredibly special, and it is something that all vets will understand and sympathise with. However, the reality is that in Australia, there is no subsidy for veterinary care. Veterinary clinics are a business. The vets working within those businesses do not set the prices for their fees. They do not get paid on a commission. And for the most part, they probably get paid a lot less than you would expect. The average salary for a vet in Australia is $67,000 per year. Meanwhile, the fees for a veterinary degree from the University of Melbourne starting in 2022 are an estimated at $266,331. And this comes after completing a 3 to 4 year bachelor’s degree.
The average career length for a vet is five years. The university training to become a vet takes seven years. This means that many vets will be leaving the industry having worked for fewer years than they studied, and having paid off a negligible amount of their university debt. This is reflected in the number of current veterinary job vacancies in Australia – about 1,200. Multiple emergency clinics in Australia have recently been forced to close due to inability find staff. The shortage of vets in Australia is currently so severe that the government has added vets to the temporary skill shortage visa list, in the midst of a pandemic, when Australia’s borders are closed!
So why is the veterinary industry in such a crisis? As I mentioned earlier, people blame access to drugs, habituation to death, and even the personalities of people who chose to become vets. Likely there are many factors contributing to the high suicide and poor mental health rates among vets, and this research is ongoing. In the meantime, I would like to share my own experiences and thoughts as to why we are facing this crisis.
. . .
Being a vet is really hard. Not only do we deal with animal suffering on a daily basis, we also deal with human suffering. I have been working exclusively in emergency and critical care practice for the past two years, and in this setting the amount of distress and suffering we deal with is even higher than general or referral practice. On a given shift, or within a given hour, we will deal with animals that have been hit by a car, are dying from heart failure, have ingested toxic substances, need emergency surgery for bleeding abdominal tumours, and any other ailment you could imagine, sometimes all at the same time. Not only do we need to make time-sensitive assessments and decisions, often for multiple animals at once, but we need to explain our diagnostics, treatments, and prognosis to the owners of our patients, as well as the costs of these services.
Veterinary practice has progressed a lot in recent decades. If you visit an emergency clinic, be it midday or 2am, most likely your vet will have access to in-house blood machines, x-ray and ultrasound, advanced imaging such as CT, and a fully equipped surgical theatre. Clinics are staffed round the clock with experienced vets and nurses.
The cost of running these clinics, paying the staff, and maintaining equipment, is huge.
For me, discussing costs with owners is one of the hardest parts of the job. When owners bring their pet to an emergency clinic, they are often, understandably, upset. It is an emotionally charged situation. For some, the cost of veterinary care is an inconvenience; for others it money they are more than willing to spend to save their beloved family member. But for others again, the costs of veterinary care is simply more than they can afford. While I personally, and all the vets I work with, will always offer alternative diagnostic and treatment options, and try to find a plan that will fit within each owner’s budget, at times the reality is that we cannot offer the care that is required within the cost constraints of the pet’s owner.
Being a pet owner who cannot afford veterinary care for their animal is a heart-breaking situation to be in. It is also distressing for the vet. Having joined this profession to help animals, not being able to due to financial constraints is also heart breaking for us.
I would love it if there were a Medicare system for pets. I would love it if every pet owner had insurance for their animal. But this is not the reality. And unfortunately, many pet owners will take their hurt and frustration out on the vet and other veterinary staff. I have suffered abuse and emotional blackmail at work many times, and I know my experience is not unique.
While most pet owners we meet are beautiful and understanding, it only takes one abusive encounter to ruin your whole shift, or your whole week. And over time, your whole career.
I have recently started a PhD at UTAS/CSIRO in marine conservation. I have been a vet for 10 years (twice the average career length), and while I hope to continue to practice part time, I do not want to face the stress of being a vet full-time anymore. A close friend and colleague recently took his own life. It shocked and saddened me, and made me realise that, no matter how much I care about being a vet, and looking after and helping animals, none of it is worth the compromise to my own health.
. . .
There are charities and organisations trying to reverse the worryingly high suicide rate in the veterinary industry. Not One More Vet and Love Your Pet Love Your Vet are two of them. But I cannot help thinking that just a bit of courtesy, just a realisation that vets are human beings and are trying to help, and that not one of us is in it for the money, would go a very long way.
In Tasmania we have looked after our at-risk and elderly through the Covid-19 pandemic. We are a small state, but we are leading the world in our Covid-19 response; and in reducing our greenhouse gas emissions and in greening our agricultural sectors. We are so lucky to live in such a beautiful part of the world, with so much freedom. And for many of us, our animal companions are an integral part of our families, our closest companions.
Please remember that vets became vets to help you and your pet. If you know you will not be able to afford veterinary bills, consider taking out pet insurance. Remember that in Tasmania, vets will always relieve suffering free of charge if you cannot afford to pay for veterinary care. And please, remember that vets are people too, and they are doing their very best. They are taking a lot of their work home with them at night, the good and the bad – but it is usually the bad that will keep them awake.
Edie Bishop grew up in Melbourne and graduated as a vet in 2011. She moved to Scotland in 2017 to undertake specialist training in veterinary surgery. She met her partner, Andrew, in Edinburgh, completed her MSc at the University of Glasgow, and in 2020 moved with Andrew to Hobart to work as an emergency vet. In late 2021 she started a PhD at UTAS/CSIRO.