Pet Assistance, Inc.

10/31/2026

Warning: this may be the longest thing I may have written:
What's in a name? Has your given name affected your life? Does it shape how you see yourself, or how others think of you? I can only tell you what I know about pets... names count!
Several years ago, Pet Assistance, Inc. took in a skinny, scraggly stray, intact red tabby cat that someone found. He was loaded with parasites and had an abscess on his face. Thanks to a good, old-fashioned farm vet, it cost very little to get him better, and he was ready for adoption in no time. All he needed now was a "name" for the ads I placed. First, I called him "Rusty"...no response; then "Stripey"; no response; "Big Red"... a couple of calls; and then... the winner is "Cheddar!" Phones rang off the hook (well, not quite), but Cheddar was adopted and loved forever! Same cat, different name. So, let's get beyond names:
I've been running ads for "Sosa" and still haven't found him a forever home. He is an adorable dog with a horrible name, and I've been informed he must have been named after Sammy Sosa, whom I never heard of and had to Google. I mentioned to a fellow dog lover that if I change his name to a basketball player's, I might find him his best home. Her response was: "You can't change Sosa's name; it will confuse him." If you are still reading this nonsense, how many of you call your pet by its given name? (Vet records would have it on file in case you forgot what it is)
My dog's name is currently "Mo." I adopted him when he was six years old. His name was Momo, which in Japanese means 'peach'... no wonder it's a common name for a cute little dog or cat; definitely not a name for a 100-pound male dog.
So I briefly called him Moses, Mohamed, Buddy... and I gave up, and he is now just Mo (for the record only). Do I ever use his new, shortened given name? Rarely! He couldn't care what I call him as long as it's in an upbeat voice. He responds equally to: "you're such a good boy," "best boy," "I love you," "you are so handsome"; I could go on and on.....
Back to Sosa! He is adorable! At only 38 pounds, Sosa is a perfect size. He is 2 1/2 years old, super friendly, loves his toys, is playful, and is house-trained; very affectionate, loves car rides, gets along with other dogs (probably cats also) and children. I'm going to gamble on a new name:
ADOPT "HAPPY," and he won't care what you call him, as long as you love him!

10/26/2026

10/18/2026

This cutie needs a home! ‘Sosa’ is one of the friendliest and cuddliest dogs; great with all other pets and children. He is “the perfect size,” about 33 pounds, playful, housebroken, up to date on shots, and neutered. He would love a family with children or someone who is home most of the time, since he loves human companionship. Please private message if you know of a perfect home for Sosa.

10/08/2026

09/23/2026

Nobody's Coming: What Happens When the Last Large-Animal Vet Near You Quits

One day you notice that the number you used to call has been disconnected, or the practice that used to see everything now only sees dogs and cats, and you're standing in the barn at two in the morning with a cow in trouble and no idea who to call.

Everybody is talking about the rural veterinary shortage. Legislatures, the AVMA, veterinary schools. But nearly all of it is aimed at the front door: loan repayment, debt relief, getting a new graduate to say yes to a small town. The part where the ones who already said yes eventually pack up and leave barely gets a mention.

I practiced mixed-animal medicine around Huntington, West Virginia, for sixteen years, the kind of place where you can eat lunch in three states without ever really deciding to. Some days I never left town. Other days I was fifty miles up a holler in eastern Kentucky or southern Ohio, so far off the pavement my GPS quit on me and started guessing right along with me.

If you grew up in a small town, you probably remember the vet who knew your dog before you finished saying its name. The one who showed up in the dark and rain in whatever they had on when the phone rang, because a heifer was down and nobody else was coming. The one who took a dozen eggs or half a hog toward the bill some years, because that's what the family had that month. That vet wasn't just treating animals. That vet was part of how the town held itself together.

Farmers built whole operations around knowing somebody would answer. There was a number to call, and somebody on the other end who knew the road, knew the farm, and usually knew the animal too.

It's not that folks quit caring. The job got heavier and the reward stayed put. The truck, the equipment, the miles, the 3 a.m. calls, dragging yourself out of bed for a calf that won't come in January. None of that gets easier with time. Meanwhile a veterinarian down the road is seeing appointments in a warm building on a four-day week for better money, and staying in large animal starts looking less like a calling and more like a dare.

I know this from the inside. I built Brown Veterinary Services to treat just about everything with four legs, and by the end I was the only one in the practice who still wanted the large-animal work. When I sold, the new owners eventually went small-animal only. They're good people. It was a sound business decision, and I understood it completely. The economics made sense, the staffing made sense, and the schedule made sense.

But the herd still calves whether or not a truck is coming. The sow still goes down and won't get up. The goat still bloats overnight. The horse still tears a leg open on a Sunday afternoon.

Behind every one of those animals is a person. A farmer who built a whole life around knowing somebody would answer. A family whose living is standing in that barn. A kid whose 4-H pig or show goat is down and hurting. A neighbor up all night with a mare they can't afford to lose, with no one left to call. And on the other end of that phone is a person too, someone who has been carrying it for years.

When the vet is gone, what a community loses isn't a convenience. It's the person who stood between a bad night and a disaster. That worry never makes it into a workforce report. It shows up at the kitchen table.

I don't have a tidy fix, but I know it starts with keeping the veterinarians we already have. Somebody to cover so a solo large-animal vet can take a weekend off. Neighboring practices sharing the on-call so nobody carries an entire county alone. Emergency fees that actually pay for the miles, the time, and the midnight. None of it makes for a flashy recruitment brochure, but all of it costs less than losing the next one.

Somewhere out past the paved road, a phone is going to ring at two in the morning. Let's make sure somebody is still there to answer it.

09/23/2026

09/23/2026

From Deb Johnson (DVM)
News broke yesterday about a young veterinarian who took her own life. She had only been out of school for four months. I do not know her but I had a lot of posts that flashed across my feed by people who did know her. I have no idea what her life was like or what she had been through all I know is that life got hard enough that she chose to end it rather than continue on in it.i
All the posts that I saw from other veterinarians were pleading with society to be kind to veterinarians. All the posts are the same, it is a stressful job, it is hard, we aren’t perfect, be kind to us, look at what you are doing to us. As I read through them I thought, it is not so much the outside world that destroys those of us inside of veterinary medicine but it is those of us inside and yet we refuse to acknowledge it or even consider it instead pointing to everyone else.
I stupidly involved myself in some random post about pyometras a few days ago. I am completely appalled at how many veterinarians just kill them or refuse to do surgery on them because of the “complications” or whatever the reasons they give. I have done hundreds of pyometra surgeries over the last 30 years and I do not think I have lost one of them and I said as much in my comment. Pyometras are just a spay with a bigger incision. I don’t get what the scare is and yet the profession on whole acts like you are having to remove the patients heart or something.
I don’t remember the exact wording of my initial comment but it was along the lines of we just need to remove the uterus and there were several comments afterwards about how dangerous it was and how hard it was and I made the comment that it was just a spay and that if we got better at surgery and faster at it then the dogs wouldn’t be dying. Boy did that ever strike the hornets nest! All sorts of angry veterinarians making fun of me and trying to discredit my experience. Shoot, I did a pyometra surgery on a dog under ten pounds that was in a full blown addisonian crisis with failing kidneys and liver. I just had the conversation with the client on the risks and the dog was on the table within 30 minutes of arriving at the clinic and its uterus was out and the dog closed up and off anesthesia all in less than ten minutes and it lived. It isn’t the procedure, it is the length of time under anesthesia. It is just a spay with a larger incision.
It is not the outside world that stresses out veterinarians, it is ourselves. My adopted daughter graduated from veterinary school this year and she said her class was so competitive and if you got things wrong they were down right cruel in what they said to you and about you. What the heck?! My class was a family that all worked very hard to help each other and now it is more like the game of thrones where everyone is trying to destroy the other person!
The veterinarian in Utah that accidentally euthanized the Yorkie, I didn’t see one comment or one post from anyone stepping up to be beside him and support him. No, everyone veterinary post I saw was horribly ugly and critical and hateful and judgmental. Imagine now you are young struggling, mentally weary veterinarian and you are reading the story and the comments and all you can think about is how you had better never screw up because no one is going to come to your aid but rather they are going to hang you on a cross and spit at you!
Just think of the damage we are doing to each other by being a bunch of judgy as****es with no compassion or empathy for those inside the profession who are not perfect and are afraid! I cannot even imagine coming out into the world of veterinary medicine today and trying to make it! Everyone who is supposed to be your colleague seemingly just waiting with their pitchforks to stab you if you take a bad step or mess up or heaven forbid be seen kicking a horse that tried to kill you.
We are our own worst enemy and instead of admitting it we blame the clients! I get more hate from people inside of veterinary medicine than I do from those on the outside. I write about becoming a better surgeon so that your pyometra dogs don’t die and what I get is made fun of and called names and told that I am a liar! Not one time has anyone ever asked what they can do to get better at saving pyometras but only trying to tear me down for doing it. I say I can spay a pyometra in six or seven minutes and I am called a liar and made fun of instead of anyone wanting to learn how they too can get faster and better so they can save more lives. What is wrong with us!? It is not how the clients treat us, it is how we treat each other.
If we want to lower the su***de rate inside the profession of veterinary medicine, it has to start with those of us on the inside! The profession needs to go backwards 50 years to where instead of being jealous and judgy as****es towards each other we support each other and we learn from each other and we try to make things better! The problem is not the clients, it is us. The problem is not the animals, it is how we treat each other. The mental health crisis in veterinary medicine is created the first day of veterinary school!