Cutest Pet

Submitted by Purva Nagarajan, University of Pennsylvania
Submitted by Purva Nagarajan, University of Pennsylvania
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.
Submitted by Larrea Cottingham, Washington State University
Veterinarians swear to use their scientific knowledge to protect animal health and welfare, and promote public health. This commitment places veterinarians on the frontlines of the highly pathogenic avian influenza (HPAI, the H5N1 virus) outbreak. However, as H5N1 is rearing to become the next pandemic, the industry that should be championing veterinary voices, silences professionals who attempt to raise the alarm about the risks of this disease and the methods used to control it.
HPAI arose when a milder avian influenza virus mutated within infected chickens on commercial farms, creating the deadly H5N1 virus responsible for HPAI. Since January, 2022 the scale of this crisis has been staggering. In the United States, H5N1 has been detected in nearly 11,000 wild birds and dozens of mammalian species. Over 125 million poultry have been culled, and in March 2024, the first case of H5N1 in dairy cows was confirmed. The virus has now spread to 875 dairy herds across 16 states, with California declaring a state of emergency in response. There are now 64 confirmed human cases, over half linked to contact with infected dairy cows.
Throughout the outbreak, the poultry and dairy industries have prioritized profits over transparency. While The National Chicken Council assures the public the virus will not enter the food supply, it has failed to acknowledge the role industrial poultry farming has played in the emergence and spread of H5N1. The American Association of Bovine Practitioners has rebranded HPAI as Bovine Influenza A to “maintain confidence in the safety and accessibility of beef and dairy products for consumers.”
Veterinarians who raise concerns about the management of this zoonotic disease face retaliation from both industries and the American Veterinary Medical Association (AVMA). Dr. Crystal Heath, a California veterinarian, highlighted the biosecurity risks posed by dead H5N1-positive cows left along public roads. In response, a prominent animal agriculture Facebook page accused her of exploiting the outbreak for personal gain, prompting calls for her veterinary license to be revoked. She faced similar backlash through a coordinated smear campaign by industry groups for opposing the use of Ventilation Shutdown Plus (VSD+) as a method of depopulation. Subsequently, Dr. Heath and several other veterinarians were barred from attending the AVMA’s Humane Endings Symposium, where depopulation methods for disease outbreaks were under discussion.
VSD+ involves sealing buildings and raising the temperature to over 104 degrees Fahrenheit, causing animals inside to die from heatstroke over several hours. Though this method is marketed as a last-resort depopulation strategy, it is endorsed by the AVMA in “constrained circumstances” and has been used extensively on chicken and turkeys to control H5N1 and to kill pigs during COVID-19, despite ethical concerns and the availability of less cruel alternatives.
The AVMA’s approval of VSD+ has enabled corporations who use this method to receive $840 million in taxpayer-funded bailouts from the USDA Livestock Indemnity Payment program. Jennie-O Turkey Store received $107.9 million, while its parent company, Hormel Foods, reported $12.1 billion in net sales in 2023. Tyson Foods received $29 million while earning $13 billion in sales and compensating its CEO $13 million. This system incentivizes a reactive, profit-driven approach to disease management rather than proactive measures to prevent outbreaks in the first place.
Although over 2,000 veterinarians have signed a letter urging the AVMA to reconsider the classification of VSD+ as “not recommended,” in June 2024, the AVMA voted to include depopulation in its Principles of Veterinary Medical Ethics, equating mass killing methods like VSD+ with humane euthanasia. The AVMA has defended its position by emphasizing "ethical decision-making" and balancing "competing interests.” Yet, its actions suggest a bias toward corporate profits over animal welfare and the ethical obligations of its members.
The AVMA has an opportunity to condemn cruel depopulation methods. By advocating for less cruel alternatives the AVMA can uphold its commitment to animal welfare and public health. Veterinarians and veterinary students can submit comments on the AVMA depopulation guidelines until January 30, 2025, and sign the letter urging the AVMA to reconsider the classification of VSD. This is a critical moment to demand accountability and transparency from an organization that represents the veterinary profession and an industry that relies on veterinary credibility.
Submitted by Jamie Daniels, The Ohio State University