Photography

Submitted by Elyan Forbis, Michigan State University

Creative Corner

Submitted by Alex McIntee, Iowa State University

Op-Ed: Reality Check for Veterinary Students

Submitted by Ann Ramsey, Oregon State University

It is easy to lose yourself in veterinary school. The onslaught of information in close quarters is  claustrophobic and deeply fatiguing. When the classroom feels more dooming than inspiring, here are five tips to refresh your attitude: 

1. Practice gratitude. Few people in this world have access to higher education. When I  hear my classmates complain at nauseum, I often think of my great-grandmother: never  educated beyond middle school and mother to nine children. She led a noble life, but it  was not one rich in choice. Education is a privilege—in the scope of human history, you  are among the scholarly minority. What will your legacy be?  

2. Tune out the crowd. Even in professional school, I sometimes encounter students with a  “too cool for school” attitude. Veterinary school is financially and emotionally  expensive—you cannot afford to let others distract you from being your authentic self. To  quote Taylor Swift: “Never be ashamed of trying. Effortlessness is a myth” (NYU  Commencement Speech, 2022).  

3. The knowledge you retain is more important than that quiz grade. The veterinary  curriculum is cumulative. Last-minute rote memorization may help you ace a quiz, but if  you never retain what you learn, then you need to re-evaluate your methods. Studying for  true understanding requires that you engage with the material in meaningful ways every  day. This process is difficult and imperfect, but it starts with grounding yourself in the  magic of learning rather than the tedium of point-chasing (with which I still struggle).  

4. You cannot predict the future. Many veterinarians pivot between fields throughout their  career. Cost of living, family commitments, job availability and personal preferences  change over time. Be open to practicing (and learning) outside of your comfort zone. You  never know when those skills and connections may come in handy.  

5. Your career starts now. At times, the classroom feels like a case study on how different  people handle stress. Always conduct yourself with patience, kindness, and self awareness. Remember that your professors and classmates are your colleagues. The  impressions you make matter. Veterinary school is not just another hoop to jump  through— it is part of the work/life synthesis that defines us.

Cutest Pet

Submitted by Purva Nagarajan, University of Pennsylvania

Experiences - My Time at Tufts at Tech

Submitted by Lyndsey Hornbaker, Cummings SVM at Tufts University

When I was a teenager, my favorite mornings were the brisk, crisp New England  mornings that smelled sharp and clear, and left your lungs a little chilly, and your tongue with a  sweet, earthy taste, because these mornings meant the leaves were changing to their best and  brightest yet of the year, and school was back in session.  

Ah, high school.  

Every teenager’s most dreaded four years.  

Except for me. My high school wasn’t the average, seven-hour daily classroom stretch  that existed for SATs and AP courses and college essays, week after week. I was subjected to  those miserable milestones, but every other week. The weeks I didn’t spend seated in a pre calculus class or staring at a physics problem I knew I’d never understand, I spent in a veterinary clinic.  

Nestled in the heart of Worcester County, at the top of one of the seven hills, sits  Worcester Technical High School. Signs on the campus direct the public to the Tufts at Tech  Community Veterinary Clinic, where I completed part of my pre-college education, and it was there I first experienced what it was like to be part of a community, not just the one we as the  staff and students created, but also the community of people and pets we aided.  

It was this community of students and staff members, of clients and patients, that taught  me more than any algebra book or chemistry experiment ever would, and with the three-week DVM student rotations and new client faces I would meet, this community was ever changing. But those who had experienced this community never completely left, and that was the best part. My classmates and I felt a lightness in our chests when our favorite DVM students returned for a  second rotation or stopped by just to say hi, remembering each and every one of our names. One  of them developed such a connection with us that we asked him to be the keynote speaker at our  AVA ceremony, and like a proud older brother, he watched us take our oaths and accept our certifications.  

Jess, the receptionist, greeted us with a warm smile at the front desk every morning and  Pam, the hospital manager, laughed every single time an assistant cracked a joke, no matter how  lame. Clients brightened my day when they shared their animal’s latest antics with me, sometimes providing photographic evidence, during our appointment. Above all, I loved 

listening to our favorite Californian clinician, Dr. Wolfus, lead rounds for the day as I stacked  towels and stocked syringes. He would get the room’s attention with his characteristic address,  listen up bros, and this put a smile on every student’s face. But as he would go on discussing the  challenging cases and providing his experienced insight, he held the interest of the entire room,  because everyone, no matter what stage of their education they found themselves in, could learn  something from listening to him.  

As a vet assistant and aspiring veterinary student, it became clear I was fundamental to  the smooth functioning of the bustling clinic. Before the first appointments arrived, I found  myself cleaning and stocking necessities alongside my high school peers. We took pride in tidy  exam rooms that smelled faintly of Simple Green and IV catheter flushes all meticulously drawn  up to the exact same level as we eagerly glanced over the appointments for the day. I was  fortunate to work alongside such an amazing crew. They made the difficult moments easier, like  the words of comfort they provided me the first time I experienced the loss of a patient, and they  made the silly moments, such as the drawing competitions we high schoolers would hold on the  whiteboard where we asked the DVM students to judge the best artist, unforgettable. They made  me feel like I was part of something, and when we decided to hang up a painting I had made, a  colorful, acrylic spin on Eadweard Muybridge’s The Horse in Motion, in one of the exam rooms,  I knew I was right where I was meant to be  

While I learned much from my peers and from the DVM students, the veterinarians  taught me the most. Observing Dr. Wolfus and all the other wonderful doctors and staff who  provided care to our patients showed me the kind of person I wanted to be. Someone who is constantly giving and never asking for anything in return, who takes time out of their day for  every single member of their staff and every client they see, and who doesn't hesitate to lend a helping hand even while theirs are full.  

Working in the Tufts at Tech clinic alongside eager DVM students, seasoned technicians, and patient veterinarians gave me a glimpse into the world I would soon be entering. We saw  cats and dogs of all shapes and sizes—from the mastiff mixes that weighed more than me, to the itty-bitty kitties barely bigger than my palm—belonging to clients just as diverse. Tufts at Tech taught me how to care for people as much as it taught me how to care for veterinary patients, and how the veterinary field is centered around improving lives, animal and human alike.