There’s a little blog post that has been going viral this past week—I even found myself sharing it on Facebook the other night, passing along Dogtor Bill’s message to “pay it forward”. It’s the story of a veterinarian and his team who found themselves faced with a homeless woman who had only one hundred dollars to save her dog’s life. I found this story to be a sincere reflection of a hard day’s work, much like what so many others in our profession experience every day. I’ve seen my share of days where technicians, receptionists and veterinarians huddled together to come up with enough cash to help out a hard luck story only to get emotionally beat up later in the day when they found themselves on the receiving end of someone who accused them of being heartless for “only caring about money” when they presented an estimate for medical services.
It seems we can’t win, even with our own colleagues sometimes. I ran across the anonymous comments made by a veterinarian whose opinion is that stories like those of Dogtor Bill will only make it harder for the rest of us to make a living. Tom Thomas wrote: “They see a vet who laughed in the face of all of us “money-grubbers” who wouldn’t/couldn’t afford to give this surgery away…..While PR pieces like this are great for morale, it does nothing for a profession that is slowly becoming non-viable.” I have to disagree.
A few weeks ago, a “hunnert dollas” combined with a big dose of empathy not only saved a dog’s life, but also brought a veterinary practice team together, uniting them through an act of kindness and humanity. I know for a fact that this happens everyday in practices everywhere. I believe part of the reason we, as a profession get dinged so much for being “money-grubbers” is that we do a really bad job at tooting our own horn. It doesn’t dawn on veterinarians to talk about how much money they give away, or how many homeless pets they save each year, or how many pets they end up adopting and taking personal financial responsibility for in order to get them the medical care they need. As a profession, we probably pay it forward several times a day, and hardly anyone knows it—-including our own teams, sometimes. I applaud Dogtor Bill for writing about his experience, and honoring his team for the time they gave to make it all happen.
I believe the sustainable future of veterinary practices hinges on leadership by people who can tap into why they come to work everyday, and can inspire those around them. These are the practices that are going to break free of all the doomsday predications and actually thrive in the future. These practices will have veterinary leaders who walk their talk, who coach their teams through adversity, and who do the right thing when that’s what needs to happen.
As a consumer, I want to support businesses that share my commitment to giving, and that value things like empathy and dignity. As a matter of fact, I’d go out of my way to be client at a practice that pays it forward with such compassion and grace.