Modernization of Veterinary Medicine

Imagine a young veterinarian driving along a narrow country road in the Yorkshire Dales of England, sometime in the 1930s.

A cold morning mist hangs over the hills. A farmer has called because one of his cows is having difficulty delivering her calf. Our young veterinarian arrives, rolls up his sleeves, and prepares for what promises to be a rather unpleasant morning.

Before the day is over, he may have treated a horse with colic, examined a sick sheep, attended to a lame dog, and perhaps been persuaded by an elderly widow to look at her rather overweight cat.

Such was the world of James Herriot, the beloved veterinarian whose stories in All Creatures Great and Small captured the hearts of millions.

It was a remarkable time in veterinary medicine. The hours were long, the roads were poor, and the compensation was sometimes little more than a handshake and a grateful smile.

But there was something special about it.

Veterinarians were respected members of their communities. They were problem solvers, trusted advisers, and, quite often, friends. Their calling was not simply to treat animals but to help the people who depended upon them.

And the veterinary education of that era reflected the world in which they lived. A veterinarian needed to know a little about nearly everything, because nearly everything might come walking through the door.

A Different World, A Different Profession

Across the Atlantic, American veterinary medicine developed along much the same lines. Our country was largely agricultural. Horses, cattle, pigs, and other livestock were essential to the economy and everyday life. Dogs and cats certainly had their place, but they had not yet become the cherished family members we know today.

Veterinary schools were designed to produce doctors capable of treating a wide variety of species. And that made perfect sense.

But something remarkable happened over the following 75 years. America changed.

Farms became larger and fewer. Horses largely disappeared from everyday transportation. Dogs and cats moved from the barnyard and backyard into our living rooms, onto our sofas, and, much to the dismay of some spouses, into our beds.

Veterinary medicine underwent an extraordinary transformation. We now have ultrasound, CT scanners, MRI machines, advanced orthopedic procedures, sophisticated laboratory testing, cancer treatments, and medications that James Herriot could scarcely have imagined.

Our profession has become enormously more sophisticated. Yet, in one very important respect, we continue to educate veterinarians under a model rooted in another era.

We expect veterinary students to acquire extensive knowledge across multiple animal species, regardless of which species they ultimately intend to treat.

We have changed the medicine. We have changed the technology. We have changed the patients. But have we sufficiently changed the way we educate the doctors?

I believe the answer is no.

The Numbers Tell an Important Story

This is not simply an observation from an aging veterinarian who has watched the profession change over more than four decades. The numbers tell the story.

According to the American Veterinary Medical Association's 2025 Graduating Senior Survey, 72.6% of veterinary graduates pursued companion-animal medicine. By comparison, 10.9% pursued mixed-animal practice, 7.9% equine medicine, and just 3.2% food-animal practice.

These figures include relevant advanced-training placements, such as internships. The profession's established workforce reflects a similar pattern. According to AVMA estimates for 2025, approximately 71.5% of veterinarians with reported employment information worked in companion-animal practice. Only 3.1% worked in food-animal practice, 3.9% in equine practice, and 5.6% in mixed-animal practice. That means approximately one in eight veterinarians worked in these three practice categories combined.

These are not guesses. They are figures drawn from the profession's own workforce research. And they raise an important question.

If nearly three out of four new veterinarians are pursuing companion-animal medicine, why do we continue to require extensive education across species that many of them will never treat professionally?

Certainly, every veterinarian needs a sound foundation in animal biology, comparative medicine, infectious disease, public health, and the relationships between animal and human health. But there is a substantial difference between understanding the fundamentals of veterinary medicine and spending valuable educational time developing clinical skills in species that a graduate has no intention of practicing upon.

There are only so many hours in a day, so many weeks in an academic year, and so many years that a student can reasonably spend in school. And the knowledge required to practice modern companion-animal medicine continues to expand.

Something has to give.

Educated, But Ready to Practice?

Consider a young veterinary student who has dreamed since childhood of becoming a small-animal veterinarian. Yet during her veterinary education, she must devote considerable time to learning about other species, including their diseases, reproductive systems, nutritional requirements, and clinical management.

All worthwhile knowledge, certainly. But how much of it will she actually use? Meanwhile, she may graduate still needing substantial practical experience and mentorship before feeling confident handling the daily challenges of clinical practice.

That does not mean veterinary schools are producing incompetent graduates. Nor does it mean that every new graduate is unprepared. It does suggest that we should ask whether our educational priorities are aligned with the realities of modern veterinary practice.

Wouldn't it make more sense to give students a strong foundation in veterinary science, then allow them to concentrate much more intensively on the species they intend to treat?

Perhaps James Herriot himself would have appreciated the irony. He needed to know how to treat nearly everything because his community needed him to treat nearly everything. Today's veterinary graduate often faces a very different reality. Why should the education remain substantially the same when the needs of the profession have changed so dramatically?

The Case for Species-Focused Veterinary Education

I believe the time has come for a fundamental restructuring of veterinary education. Not another committee studying the problem for the next ten years. Not a minor adjustment in clinical rotations. A genuine change in how we prepare the next generation of veterinarians.

Veterinary education should offer distinct, species-focused professional pathways. Students should first receive a strong foundation in the essential sciences of veterinary medicine, including anatomy, physiology, pathology, pharmacology, infectious diseases, public health, and comparative medicine. They should then be able to pursue focused clinical education in areas such as:

• Companion-animal medicine
• Equine medicine
• Food-animal and production medicine
• Mixed-animal and rural veterinary medicine
• Other defined fields requiring specialized preparation

These pathways should provide substantially greater clinical experience in the species graduates intend to treat. They should also maintain rigorous competency requirements, with additional training available for veterinarians who wish to expand into other species later in their careers.

This would require thoughtful changes in veterinary school curricula, accreditation standards, and potentially professional licensing. It would not be simple. But neither was the development of modern veterinary medicine.

And there is another important benefit. Focused educational pathways could help strengthen food-animal and rural veterinary medicine by attracting students genuinely interested in those fields and preparing them more thoroughly for their particular challenges.

The objective is not to abandon large-animal medicine. Quite the opposite. It is to prepare every veterinarian more effectively for the animals and communities they have chosen to serve.

And What About Veterinary Technicians?

There is another group of veterinary professionals who deserve equal attention in this discussion. Veterinary technicians. In my opinion, they represent one of the greatest underutilized resources in our profession.

Yet their education often follows the same broad, multispecies approach. Veterinary technology programs are generally shorter than veterinary medical programs, commonly requiring approximately two years for an associate degree. Within that relatively limited time, students must acquire knowledge and clinical skills across multiple animal species while also learning anesthesia, dentistry, diagnostic imaging, nursing, laboratory procedures, pharmacology, and other essential disciplines.

Think about that for a moment. We expect these students to become competent in an enormous range of skills within a very compressed educational schedule. And then we wonder why some graduates require additional training, why technicians become frustrated, and why retention remains a challenge.

We need to rethink this approach as well. Veterinary technicians should have opportunities for species-focused educational pathways, with more extensive practical preparation in the areas where they intend to work.

A companion-animal technician should graduate exceptionally well prepared for the daily demands of a dog-and-cat hospital. An equine technician should receive concentrated training in horse medicine and nursing. Food-animal technicians should be prepared for the particular needs of livestock medicine and production systems.

And just as importantly, credentialed veterinary technicians should be fully utilized within their demonstrated competencies and the laws governing their profession.

A properly trained and fully utilized veterinary technician does not replace the veterinarian. That technician allows the veterinarian to help more animals.

If we are serious about improving access to veterinary care, veterinary technicians must be central to the solution.

What Does This Mean for the Pet Owner?

You might reasonably ask what all of this has to do with the average family trying to care for its dog or cat. Quite a lot.

Veterinary care has become increasingly expensive. Many pet owners struggle to afford routine examinations, vaccinations, dental procedures, and treatment for common illnesses. For some families, an unexpected veterinary bill can become a financial crisis.

Meanwhile, veterinary practices face rising operating expenses, staffing challenges, increasingly complex medical technology, and the responsibility of mentoring newly graduated professionals.

The educational model is certainly not responsible for all these problems. But if we can better prepare veterinarians and veterinary technicians for the work they will actually perform, we may improve clinical efficiency, strengthen confidence, reduce unnecessary training burdens, and make better use of the veterinary workforce. Those improvements could become part of a broader effort to make veterinary services more accessible.

The ultimate goal is not simply to produce more highly trained professionals. It is to build a system in which those professionals can deliver competent, compassionate care to more animals and their owners.

A dog suffering from a painful ear infection does not care whether its veterinarian studied equine reproduction. A family with a sick cat is not concerned about the historical traditions of veterinary education. They simply want someone competent, compassionate, and available to help their animal at a price they can reasonably afford.

Surely, that is not too much to ask.

Remembering What Made Veterinary Medicine Great

I have spent more than four decades in veterinary medicine. During those years, I have witnessed extraordinary advances in our ability to diagnose disease, relieve suffering, and extend the lives of animals. I have also watched veterinary care become increasingly difficult for many families to obtain.

Through my work with United Pet Fund, I have seen firsthand the challenges faced by animal rescues, shelters, and organizations trying desperately to help animals whose owners cannot afford traditional veterinary services.

These experiences have reinforced something I have believed throughout my career. Veterinary medicine is, first and foremost, a profession of service. That is what drew so many of us into the profession. And that is what James Herriot represented so beautifully.

He practiced in a world with fewer diagnostic tools, fewer medications, and far fewer treatment options. But he understood something that remains every bit as important today.

The purpose of veterinary medicine is to help animals and the people who depend upon them.

We must not lose that identity in our pursuit of technological advancement. Nor should we cling so tightly to our traditions that we become unwilling to question whether those traditions still serve the public.

A Blueprint for the Next Generation

This is why I believe veterinary medicine needs a new blueprint. Not merely a few adjustments around the edges, but a fundamental reexamination of how we educate veterinarians, train and utilize veterinary technicians, incorporate technology, and deliver veterinary services.

Species-focused educational pathways should be an important part of that transformation. So should expanded access to veterinary telehealth, a more practical Spectrum of Care, better utilization of veterinary technicians, and a renewed commitment to making veterinary medicine accessible to families across the economic spectrum.

None of these reforms will happen overnight. But if we continue to postpone serious change, we risk allowing access to veterinary care to become increasingly restricted — not necessarily because we lack the medical knowledge to help animals, but because our system has failed to evolve with the society it serves.

Over the coming weeks, I intend to explore these issues, explain why they matter, and offer practical ideas for moving our profession forward. Some of those ideas will challenge long-established traditions. They should. Because progress rarely comes from asking only the comfortable questions.

The world of James Herriot was a wonderful one, and his stories remind us of the very best qualities of our profession. But we no longer live in the Yorkshire Dales of the 1930s.

The spirit of All Creatures Great and Small deserves to live on. The educational model of that era does not have to.

Our animals deserve compassionate care. Their owners deserve reasonable access to it. And the next generation of veterinarians and veterinary technicians deserves an education designed for the world they will actually enter.

That is what the Blueprint for Modernization of Veterinary Medicine is all about.