Q: I’ve been a veterinarian for over 30 years. These days, clients call themselves “fur parents” and get emotional over things like ear infections and vaccines. I want to be compassionate, but I didn’t sign up to be a therapist. What changed?
A: Here’s the short answer: Everything changed. But not all at once.
I’m a Gen Xer, and I remember when it wasn’t common to grieve a pet publicly or refer to them as a “fur baby.” As a veterinary student, I heard I was too emotional about animals. I was reprimanded for sitting on the exam room floor, cradling a Doberman suffering from heart failure. I was taught that animals were property, not family. However, I didn’t buy it, and I wasn’t alone. Gen X was the first generation to truly push the boundary by treating pets as full-fledged family members.
Millennials and Gen Zers didn’t just continue that shift; they turned it into a cultural standard. For many of today’s clients, pets are emotional anchors, family members and a central part of their lifestyle. In a 2025 survey, 71% of child-free couples said their lives revolved around their dogs, and more than half admitted to canceling plans so they could stay home with their pets. That’s why clients expect more than clinical care from us. They want relatability, compassion and empathy. And if you come across as cold or dismissive, they might not come back.
Let’s be clear: Empathy isn’t just a nice-to-have in veterinary care. It’s also a clinical necessity.
Studies of veterinary appointments reveal that explicit empathy statements are used in only about 7% of consultations. That means 93% of visits lack the simple “I understand” moment that clients need, even though empathy is proven to boost trust, satisfaction and compliance. We can do better.
So, what does that look like in practice? Try this:
- Start with acknowledgment: “I can tell how important Bella is to you.”
- Follow with reassurance: “Let’s walk through what’s going on and how we can help.”
- Keep the focus on veterinary care: Stay clinical but remain human.
You don’t have to be a therapist. But you do have to meet clients where they are emotionally and clinically. That doesn’t take a counseling degree. It takes a pause, a few kind words and the willingness to treat the relationship with as much care as the medicine.
Q: I’m hiring people, but I can’t keep anyone longer than six months. My older team members say younger employees are lazy and lack a work ethic. What’s going on here?
A: Your complaint is so common that it’s practically wallpaper in veterinary management forums. Frustrated practice owners and managers say they can’t get new hires to step up, while newer hires quietly wonder why they’re expected to work 50-hour weeks for fast-food wages and zero training. Both sides feel unheard. That’s the problem.
The issue isn’t that people don’t want to work. It’s that they want to work differently. When employees leave after three months, someone can easily assume they were “plain lazy” or “didn’t have what it takes.” But more often, they didn’t get what they needed: job clarity, mentorship, meaningful work and a sense that their role could lead somewhere better.
Let’s be honest. Working in a veterinary clinic is challenging. The pay is too low in many places, and the culture can be unforgiving. You show up, get thrown into chaos, and if you sink, well, “Maybe you weren’t cut out for it.” That used to be the norm. Now, people stop showing up.
A 2024 American Animal Hospital Association study found that nearly 30% of veterinary professionals planned to leave their current role within a year, 15% expected to leave clinical practice entirely, and 9 out of 10 reported no intention to return once they ditched veterinary medicine. Ouch.
The most common reasons? Low pay, a lack of appreciation, poor communication and a toxic work environment. And it isn’t just a veterinary problem. Gen Zers and younger millennials are reshaping workplaces in every industry. Flexibility, purpose and fair treatment aren’t perks anymore. They’re the starting point.
This is where leadership comes in. If you think no one wants to work, ask your team members what they need to stay. Start with real onboarding, not just a clinic tour and a clip-on name tag. Offer structured performance reviews and a clear path for pay raises or career advancement. Small gestures such as handwritten thank-you notes, mental health support and shared decision-making can make a big difference.
Shared decision-making doesn’t mean giving up control. It means involving your team in everyday decisions, such as schedule adjustments or workflow changes. Younger employees, especially Gen Zers and millennials, expect that kind of collaboration. Surveys show they’re more engaged when their input is heard and acted on. When people think their voice matters, they’re more likely to stay and to care.
The work ethic isn’t dead, but unquestioning loyalty is. If you want great people to stay, you must give them a reason to believe in the job and your leadership.
Q: I accepted a client’s follow request on my personal Instagram. Now she’s messaging me about her dog’s meds on a Saturday. Should I ignore her, or am I being rude?
A: This one takes me back. In the early days of Facebook, I let a few select clients “friend me.” At first, my response seemed like friendly outreach to loyal customers. But soon and usually after hours, I was answering questions about lab results and medication refills through Messenger. That’s when it hit me: I was basically performing telemedicine for free and on my own time. It had to stop. I told clients I couldn’t offer medical advice through social media and that my personal page wasn’t intended for clinic communication. Most of them understood, but only because I set a boundary and stuck to it.
What should you do when a client messages you on Instagram with a pet health concern or refill request? Be polite, firm and redirect immediately: “Hi! I’m not able to handle medical or medication requests here. Please call the clinic so we can help you the right way.”
If they message again, don’t waffle: “I want to make sure your pet gets proper care, and I can’t do that through direct messages. Please contact the clinic directly.”
Every time you respond to a medical question on your personal social media, you train clients to expect that kind of access. That’s not fair to you, your license or your time.
The fix? Start by keeping your personal and professional accounts separate. For example:
- Personal page: Set it to private and say in your bio: “Not monitored for pet care questions. Please contact the clinic.”
- Professional page: Use it to share tips, updates and education. Be clear in your bio that direct messages are not for medical communication and will not be answered.
In addition, use a pinned post or Instagram Highlights reel that says: “For your pet’s privacy and safety, please contact the clinic with all medical questions. Messages here are not monitored for patient care and will not be answered.”
State veterinary boards are clear: Medical advice without a valid VCPR and proper documentation can create legal headaches and put your license at risk. And besides, you deserve a personal life that doesn’t revolve around your inbox.