The slogan “adopt don’t shop” was created to bring attention to the many amazing pets available in shelters and rescues across the nation. Although the marketing campaign has been very effective—pet adoptions have continued to rise in recent years—it has also resulted in the shaming and judgment of those who choose to buy from a breeder.

One of the best parts of my job is the new pet visit. Owners present their new family member with pride for the first exam. While performing my exam, I always ask them to share the story of how they found their new addition. This not only helps me plan out any routine preventive care the pet will need, but it allows me to connect with the clients and share in their excitement about their new pet.

Recently, I’ve noticed the disturbing trend of some new owners speaking in an apologetic tone when they share that they purchased their new pet from a breeder. This admission is often followed by a list of reasons why they chose to get their pet from a breeder rather than a rescue, or stories about rescue fails that eventually sent them looking for something different. As a veterinarian, I believe that what matters most when you chose a new pet is that it is the right pet for your family.

The implication that the only pets worthy of a forever home are those obtained from a shelter or rescue, or as a stray, is misleading. It assumes two inaccurate ideas: (1) that all rescue animals will be put to sleep unless you go out right now and save one, and (2) that all breeders are bad people and by purchasing a puppy from them you are supporting their evil, money-generating puppy mill empire.

Using #adoptdontshop to promote an intolerant behavior toward certain pets is aggravating. The guilt is intended to be placed on well-intentioned new pet owners. The perception that people who purchase a dog from a breeder is selfish or immoral is hurtful to all pets.

I propose a happy medium. My slogans might not be as catchy, but I wish we could say “Pick your next pet responsibly” or “Do your research and find the best pet for you.”

There are responsible breeders in this world. They test for genetic mutations, breed for good behavior and do not have too many litters a year. They often enter contracts with new owners stating they will forever be responsible for the puppies and want them back if it does not work out. Their primary concern is the health and wellbeing of their puppies and kittens. They want the right home and not just any home.

Over and over I have seen the happiness that both rescue and intentionally bred pets have brought to their new owners. All pets need a home. Let’s join together to encourage people seeking a new pet to make the best, most well-informed decision they can for their family. That will be the best solution to keep pets in the home forever, no matter where they come from.

Articles


Although it has been effective in raising pet adoption rates, one veterinarian thinks this marketing campaign has a dark side. Here is what she proposes instead.


  ‘Adopt don’t shop‘—marketing genius or shaming slogan?

Editor’s note: The following letters are part of an ongoing conversation about diversity and inclusion in veterinary medicine that started when dvm360 published 

 late last year. For the beginning of the conversation, the original letters can be found 

I would like to make one final comment and response about recent letters to the editor regarding “the whitest profession in America.” I believe Dr. McKenzie’s assertion that the makeup of our profession is predominantly white as a result of “systemic racism” is incorrect. (“

,’” April 2020). It is obvious from his website that Dr. McKenzie is a firm believer in evidence-based medicine. In this discussion, the evidence and statistics from the American Association of Veterinary Medical Colleges (AAVMC) do not support his assertion.

According to the AAVMC, the percentage of underrepresented minorities applying to veterinary colleges in 2016 was 21.6%, and the actual enrollment in those same programs was almost identical (21.1%). I’m not a statistician, but this leads me to conclude, perhaps naively, that the makeup of the veterinary student population and of our profession as a whole mirrors the racial makeup of the applicant pool. (The same holds true for the percentage of women now enrolled in U.S. and Canadian veterinary programs. Most classes are 80% female, reflecting the 82% of female applicants in the 2016 AAVMC report.)

Despite many initiatives, including by my alma mater, Purdue University, the number of underrepresented minorities applying to veterinary colleges is still way below that of white applicants, and there is no evidence to support that the admissions to veterinary schools are or have been the result of intentional discrimination or “systemic racism.”

The good news is that the percentage of minorities graduating in 2016 was 15.8%—substantially higher than the approximately 4.5% when I graduated from Purdue's  DVM program in 1982, with most of the gains being made since the launch of the Diversity Matters initiative in 2005.

In 1969, one of my early mentors who allowed me to “job shadow” was an African-American graduate of Tuskegee University. He was instrumental in my decision to become a veterinarian. During my 38-year career, I have never known (nor can I imagine) a colleague who was unwilling to encourage or mentor elementary, high school or college students of any minority group that showed interest in our profession.

My concern is that using the terminology “the whitest profession in America” will in fact dissuade underrepresented minorities from seeking to join our profession by insinuating that the deck is stacked against them before they even attempt to shadow a veterinarian or pursue an education that will prepare them for admission to colleges of veterinary medicine. In this regard, I believe “words matter.”

Likewise, should I be expected to dissuade my white, “privileged” grandsons from seeking a career in veterinary medicine, as we must now and for the foreseeable future balance the racial makeup of the profession? Should similar programs developed to attract underrepresented minorities to veterinary medicine be made available to them?

I thank Dr. McKenzie for his feedback. I was very hesitant to get involved in discussions about race, but once again, I must disagree about using the term “whitest profession in America.” I believe it does nothing to enhance the promotion of diversity in our profession.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

I appreciate Dr. Clemente’s willingness to engage in a discussion of such a contentious topic, and I acknowledge the difficulty in having substantive conversations about such a complex issue in the letters page of a magazine. However, I feel obliged to point out that his understanding of my comments, and of the role of racism in the demographic makeup of the veterinary profession, is incorrect.

That the proportion of veterinarians from underrepresented groups (at least those that are tracked) is similar to the proportion of applicants from those groups to veterinary colleges suggests that intentional discrimination in admissions is not the reason for the disproportionate predominance of white veterinarians. This is encouraging, both because such a direct manifestation of racism would reflect badly on the profession and because it would be a clear violation of federal law.

This does not demonstrate, however, that systematic racism is not at work or that the poor representation of specific groups is due to a natural or inherent lack of interest among those groups in joining the profession. The composition of the applicant pool reflects a much more insidious and widespread constellation of factors that impede potential applicants from underrepresented communities at a much earlier stage on the path to becoming veterinarians. This includes disparities in educational opportunities and resources as well as a paucity of mentors and role models in the profession to encourage children in minority communities to consider veterinary medicine as a career. This lack of representation in our profession, not the acknowledgment of it in the phrase “whitest profession in America,” is one of the barriers to greater diversity. Sadly, the deck is stacked against people of color, and solving the problem begins with clearly and honestly labeling it.

The suggestion that diversity and inclusion is a zero sum game in which white men must be discriminated against to make room for others is an outdated and disappointingly simplistic characterization of the problem and the available solutions. Dr. Clemente’s grandsons are indeed privileged that their ethnicity is not an obstacle to their career aspirations, as it still too often is for people of color. They should be encouraged to pursue their ambitions and, with a grandfather who is a veterinarian, they can likely see themselves as part of a profession that looks comfortable and familiar. The grandchildren of people of color should have the same opportunities and encouragement as Dr. Clemente provides his grandsons, and right now they frequently do not. Inclusion means making such encouragement and opportunities available to everyone, not discriminating against one group to favor another.

I would encourage Dr. Clemente, and everyone interested in inclusion and diversity in veterinary medicine, to read 

Navigating Diversity and Inclusion in Veterinary Medicine

, edited by Lisa M. Greenhill and colleagues. This excellent, evidence-based resource traces the roots of the problem and offers strategies for improvement.

There may be disagreement about the reasons why relatively few minorities join the veterinary profession, but we all agree that increasing diversity and inclusion should be a priority. 

Final words on the ‘whitest profession’

During uncertain times, we want to keep you as informed as possible with the latest pandemic news and our coverage of the veterinary industry.

View the video below for this week's top veterinary headlines:

A veterinary law and business expert discusses the positive and negative effects of COVID-19 on the 

Dogs are known for using their super sniffers to help search for missing people, find narcotics and even detect cancer. Now a new study has revealed that those 

Results from the World Small Animal Veterinary Association’s (WSAVA) recent online survey has prompted the organization to take steps to

advance the health and welfare of veterinary teams around the world

Videos

Check out this week's top veterinary headlines.

News wrap-up: This week's veterinary headlines, plus taking strides to improve wellbeing

dvm360, the No. 1 multimedia platform in the veterinary industry, in partnership with Banfield Pet Hospital, today announced that they will host a free virtual career fair for recent veterinary graduates, current veterinarians and hospital team members on Thursday, June 4, from 6:00  to 8:30 p.m. EDT.

The virtual career fair will be moderated by Adam Christman, DVM, MBA, dvm360’s chief veterinary officer.

“We here at the Fetch dvm360 family are proud to be hosting a virtual veterinary career event. We have had the pleasure of chatting with many of you in the field (recent graduates, veterinarians and support team members). We know how challenging these times are and how difficult it is to physically interview during this pandemic. We heard you and we are excited to host several fun, engaging and interactive virtual live recruiting events,” Dr. Christman says.

“We couldn’t be more excited to partner with Banfield to give the veterinary class of 2020 an opportunity to connect with a major employer in the veterinary industry,” says Mike Hennessy Jr., president and CEO of MJH Life Sciences™, the parent company of dvm360. “Due to COVID-19, many students across the U.S. weren’t able to have traditional graduation ceremonies, and we look forward to celebrating their accomplishments by surprising them with shout-outs from celebrities and key opinion leaders in the veterinary community.”

Attendees will have the “op-paw-tunity” to “fetch” some cool discounts and deals from Door Dash, Veterinary Mentor Solutions, caninearthritis.org, WhiskerCloud and more!

This one-day event will include four live Q&A presentations that will offer important advice to guide aspiring veterinary professionals in their careers, with topics ranging from resume writing, interview tips and strategies for managing student debt, to understanding the importance of inclusion and diversity in the workplace. The event will also provide a unique opportunity for prospective veterinary professionals to learn from and network with Banfield executives.

Health and Wellbeing When It Matters Most

Why Inclusion & Diversity Matter in the Workplace

“We’re always looking to connect with talented veterinarians and credentialed veterinary technicians,” says Melissa Marshall, vice president of people and organization at Banfield Pet Hospital.

Be sure also to check out an incredible graduation video montage created by Dr. Christman. You will be pleasantly surprised to see some very familiar faces saluting the graduating class of 2020!

To ask questions or learn more information about career opportunities, contact 

dvm360 is partnering with Banfield to host this exciting event.

Virtual Career Fair to kick off next week

As for many veterinary practice owners, COVID-19 has been a monumental challenge for Dr. Jill Well. Over the past 17 years, she built a large suburban hospital with six veterinarians and a staff of 40. The clinic offers grooming, a retail center and home delivery. But the pandemic has devastated many in her community, and her practice was no exception.

All of the clinic’s elective options were put on hold, with only essential care being provided. Dr. Well understood this was the only way that the pandemic would be brought under control, but her practice nevertheless was turned upside down.

At the height of the shutdown, practice volume dropped to 35% of normal. No one except masked staff entered the clinic, and curbside service and Zoom consultations were the new normal. For the first time in her career she had to lay off nonessential team members. In consultation with her administrators, Dr. Well had to manage a dwindling clinic bank account, panicky clients and a hospital staff afraid both of COVID-19 and of not being able to give proper care to their patients. Dr. Well knew that eventually government financial aid would come and the virus would subside, but she’d did not know when or even if the practice would survive. It was, in short, her worst nightmare.

The receptionists, technicians and veterinarians who continued to work at the practice each day were devoted and committed to patient care. They observed all CDC recommendations, and clinic hygiene was ramped up to the maximum. This, combined with the fact that patients entered the clinic unaccompanied by their human caretakers, allowed the staff to remain as safe as possible. Dr. Well saw this group of employees as truly heroic.

For the practice to succeed, Dr. Well had to manage the immediate crisis while simultaneously conducting short- and long-term planning. Part of her long-term plans include rehiring staff and restoring practice normalcy when the virus subsides. She also decided to provide what she called “hero rewards” for those staff members who remained on the front lines during the worst of the COVID-19 pandemic. She had not decided whether this would be a bonus, gift or some other token of well-earned appreciation. But when she presented her proposal to her administrators she received some unexpected resistance.

Both the hospital’s medical director and nonmedical staff director were opposed to the idea of a “hero reward,” noting that staff members who were quarantined, thrust into mandatory home childcare or over age 60 had no choice but to stay home. They all wanted to work and do their part at the clinic during the crisis but were refused the opportunity. Why, the administrators wondered, should some of their coworkers be labeled heroes and given rewards for doing work that others were denied?

Dr. Well responded by saying that despite the circumstances and restrictions on some staff members, those who worked the front lines must be acknowledged. Her advisors first recommended that she remove the title “hero” from her proposal. All of her staff members could be and would be heroes if given the opportunity. In addition, the virus recovery period could be celebrated by the entire reunited workforce post COVID-19 in the form of an appropriate group gesture.

In the end, Dr. Well decided that the entire staff should be congratulated for the commitment and sacrifice they made to help patients during the pandemic. Those who worked in the practice would receive “hazard” pay and those working from home would be acknowledged and thanked for supporting their coworkers. Dr. Well went on to assure her staff that the hospital would survive this challenge as a team.

Do you think Dr. Well’s idea of honoring front-line staff was fair to those who were unable to work in the practice during the pandemic, or do you think her decision to honor the entire team was the wise one? What would you have done? Email us your thoughts at 

COVID-19 has placed veterinary practices—indeed, all of veterinary medicine—in uncharted waters. Our focus and crisis preparation have always been directed toward animal disease outbreaks, such as parvovirus, canine influenza and various viruses that affect herd health. A human pandemic was not in our game plan.

Dr. Well’s instincts told her to reward those troops on the front lines, but she was reminded that all staff members were doing their jobs as part of a team effort and advised that staff accolades not be one-sided. Dr. Well did the best she could in a crisis, and I agree with her ultimate decision, but what is more important is that she wisely sought the advice of her administrative staff to assist her in making that decision. We should not act alone in a crisis because 21st-century veterinary medicine is a team effort.

Dr. Rosenberg is director of the Voorhees Veterinary Center in Voorhees, New Jersey. Although many of the scenarios Dr. Rosenberg describes in his column are based on real-life events, the veterinary practices, doctors and employees described are fictional.

The dilemma: Should you give special recognition to your front-line veterinary practice team in light of the fact that others were unable to work during COVID-19?

Is a ‘hero award’ appropriate for front-line veterinary staff?

The Lamesa, Texas landscape is so flat that on a cold night you can see the lights of Midland about 60 miles away. We get about 16 inches of rain a year, most of which falls on one evening in mid-May. The dirt here is a drab clay-orange color, and the wind blows so hard that I have seen many a tumbleweed stuck in the highline wires of telephone poles.

We’ve got our share of creatures, from coyotes, lizards, roadrunners and meadowlarks to a quail, horned toads, rabbits, hawks and snakes. Most of these critters are just fine with me. I like to shoot guns, but not usually at animals. My grandfather said I was a crybaby because I wouldn’t shoot anything but, heck, my job is to fix critters, not kill them.

One of my very first cases as a veterinarian was a horse that had been bitten by a rattlesnake. Oh my, that poor horse was about to die by the time it was brought to the clinic. I could not imagine how toxic that venom must have been to make a 1,000-pound horse’s head swell so much that it couldn’t breathe. I remember standing there imagining what a snake like that would have done to me had I been the recipient of that dose of venom.

I have since seen hundreds, maybe thousands, of animals that have received an inoculation with the juice from the fangs of these evil monsters. We have mostly Western diamondbacks and prairie rattlers here, and that Western diamondback, well, it is a beast.

One of my good friends narrowly escaped with his life after being bitten by one a few years ago. He spent weeks in the hospital and had to have skin grafts and dialysis for a while because of the venom's effects on his kidneys. I am scared to death of those things. I'd estimate that my kids spent less than a third of the typical time playing outside when they were small because these monsters roam the plains of west Texas.

No snake bothered us for years on Brock Hill thanks to Hank, a big mutt that hated all snakes. Hank would grab the tail in his mouth and swing them around until they were dead. He had been bitten so many times that he barely even swelled up after a bite. He was like mongoose with a cobra. The venom he had been exposed to over years of being bitten had immunized him like a vaccine. When he saved me once from being bitten, he and I were bonded for life.

When Hank got old and eventually died, it was one of the saddest days of my life. And once Hank was gone, the snakes started coming in by the billions. OK, maybe there weren’t that many, but last year we killed 45 of them in the vineyard. If you are reading this and thinking we are inhumane for killing animals, well, I don’t care. Until you have seen how devastating the venom of these snakes is to people and animals, don’t judge.

One recent Saturday a windstorm came through and broke a bunch of branches off a tree in our yard. The next day I was out picking up branches when the following event occurred.

I always keep an eye out for snakes and usually wear “snake boots” when working outside. It was a bit early in the season, so I hadn’t broken out the snake boots just yet. Instead I was just wearing my regular boots while I picked up branches. I was looking around closely while walking across the yard when I felt something smack up against my right leg.

I figured I had stepped on one of the branches and it had swung around and hit my other leg. But when I looked down, I saw a three-foot Western diamondback stuck to my britches. I never saw that rascal coming, and it never rattled at all.

As I am getting close to 60 and am way too fat, I had no idea that I could jump so high. Some sort of sympathetic response in my subcerebral brain, fueled by adrenalin, caused me to jump so high that I was clinging to a tree branch with my own feet four feet off the ground. It all happened so fast that I looked around and wondered what I was doing hanging from a branch so high off the ground.

I don’t wear skinny jeans (most of the people I know say that is a wonderful idea) and, boy, am I glad I don’t. The fangs of that snake had penetrated the material of my baggy, fat man jeans, and the snake actually had those fangs lodged in the denim fabric for a second before it could release.

As I hung from the branch I tried to direct my brain to the area of fang penetration. Could I feel heat? Could I feel swelling starting? Was there pain like my friend had described? How far was it between my jeans and my flesh? How long are a rattlesnake’s fangs? Is it possible that my leg was bitten but I just couldn’t feel it yet? How could I have not seen the snake coming? Why didn’t it warn me with a rattle?

Just as I had that thought the rattle started, adding to my terror. If I let go of the branch, I was going to fall down into striking range. I managed to shimmy around the tree and let myself down a good distance from the evil, legless beast.

I ambled over to a safe spot next to the house and analyzed what had just happened. I was a tight-fitting jeans moment away from a trip to Lubbock in an ambulance. All I could picture was my friend’s leg after he was bitten. I tried to picture what that critter might have done to one of my grandkids had they been playing in the yard. That was it: No more snake.

I can assure you that snake will never bite one of my grandkids. I can also assure you that I have learned what I am a really afraid of: the effects of a mean rattlesnake on an old veterinarian.

Bo Brock, DVM, owns Brock Veterinary Clinic in Lamesa, Texas. His latest book is 

Crowded in the middle of nowhere: tales of humor and healing from rural America.

How do you feel about ghosts, clowns, drowning, bankruptcy, heights and Freddy Kruger? This Texas veterinarian recently had occasion to analyze his own worst fears, and here’s what he learned. 