In the year 2016

Qui vult dare parva non debet magna rogare." ~~ He who wishes to give little shouldn't ask for much.

Springfield Animal Clinic - Springfield , USA

May 15, 2016: 8 a.m.

Rebecca Swain waits at the reception area. She had just walked inside through the double entry hallway. In order to enter the veterinary office she had swiped her client ID card on the weatherproof reader and the receptionist had activated the outer door in order to let her and "Petey" inside.

Rebecca was trying to be patient, but Petey, her 6-month-old Bishon Frise, was spinning on his leash. Petey was to be neutered and needed some additional vaccinations and heartworm medication.

In a few moments the receptionist peers through the double pane Plexiglas that separates her from the waiting area. She smiles and hands Rebecca a pile of papers to sign.

Far different experience

Rebecca thinks to herself how, as a little girl, going to her hometown veterinarian had been a far different experience. The building was much more open and "user friendly." She remembers the vet being open and more social and knew the family on a more personal level.

Just then the receptionist directs Rebecca to a small, enclosed area for her to sign the necessary paperwork.

With Petey spinning by the leash on her left wrist, Rebecca tries to read over the paperwork involved. Some of the language is quite cryptic and legalistic. Rebecca will need to sign as the legal guardian for Petey.

Another document lists in detail the potential hazards of the surgery. Most of the hazards mentioned death and long-term disability in rare cases.

Another document is a disclosure and release form detailing the "individual rights" of the patient with respect to the guardian.

An addendum page asks Rebecca to verify that Petey had not been married in any civil ceremony and/or had been certified as legally married in any state or municipality of the union and had not been pledged to act or stand as "stud" for another guardian's pet.

Language in each document stated that Rebecca had to sign away any right to bring suit against the veterinary hospital in the event of complications.

The final piece of paper was a promissory note to pay all the surgical costs in the event that the insurance carrier defaulted or would not pay. She cynically notes that the minimum fee that was stated in the estimate for neutering either by chemical or surgical means exceeded her monthly house payment. She had no choice. City ordinance now requires sterilization. Fifty percent of that fee will be split between the city and state taxing bodies. She left Petey and cried all the way to work.

Springfield Humane Society - Board of Directors Meeting

May 15, 2016: 7 p.m.

Helen Hickok jumps up and yells at Sarah Bankester. It was getting ugly and the monthly proceedings had just turned hot again.

This had been the norm for several months and things were not getting better. Sarah Bankester is the attorney for the city of Springfield and had been a longtime animal activist in the area. Sarah had also been active in recent years in helping to nurse several new animal laws through both the state and city political jungle.

Helen is the administrator for the local humane shelter. In the past two years Helen had seen the number of pets relinquished to the shelter skyrocket. The euthanasia to placement ratio is now at an all-time high and is showing no signs of dropping. Additionally, Helen was being pressured to stop all euthanasia operations in light of future litigation problems. The shelter was about to have a meltdown.

Good old days

Ten years earlier the shelter had been in great shape financially and had been on the receiving end of grants and endowments. Since the new laws had been enacted, several lawsuits had been filed and the shelter was on the losing end of most of them. The endowments soon began to disappear.

These suits were filed primarily on behalf of guardians but also on behalf of the state itself. Helen felt that she was on the losing end all the way around.

"Even attorneys are giving their pets up for adoption!" Helen cried, then walked to the center of the room. "The cost of guardianship, both financially and emotionally, is unbearable for most folks these days. Add to that the restrictions we place on adoptions and you have a prescription for disaster at the shelter.

All the "no-kill" shelters went out of business or left a few years ago and are showing up in extremely rural areas where regulation is poor. Reports from our friends in those areas say that these shelter are nothing but death traps."

The remainder of the board sat silent. They did not know what to say. After a few seconds, Sarah stood up and gave a 15-minute diatribe filled with double-talk. Somewhere in the middle, Sarah noted that even though animal ownership in this country had dropped dramatically, the remaining animal owners were taking very good care of their pets in keeping with the dignity that they deserve.

Helen scowled as she listened. Never mind, she thought, that the remaining dogs and cats in shelters (or worse) were housed and euthanized in numbers that no one would ever believe. Helen reluctantly realized that her only hope for sanity was to submit her resignation. Her mission to help animals that had started many years ago had become a house of cards.

Springfield Animal Clinic

May 16, 2016: 1 p.m.

Dr. Kaylie Bronson's hands tremble as she opens the letter on her desk. It had arrived earlier in the morning, but she had been postponing the inevitable. She had learned to dread the annual premium notice from Consolidated Insurance and Trust that arrived every year.

A few years earlier she had been put in a growing special pool of doctors who had had a malpractice claim in the past five years. Consolidated was the only insurer for this special pool of veterinarians. It was just another reminder of a dreadful day that had occurred three years ago in her practice. Almost every day since then as she was in the process of anesthetizing one of her patients she would, for a moment, see the image of "Cassie" lying lifeless on the table. She would also remember the numb visage of Cassie's owner calling the funeral home as Dr. Bronson helplessly looked on.

There had been a wake and two-column notice in the obituary page of the local paper. The family and members of a national dog club attended the funeral. The letter from an attorney had arrived a few weeks later.

Kaylie now opens the premium notice and the tips of her fingers grow cold. She stops breathing for what seemed an eternity and draws a deep, cold breath. She looks blankly at the sheet of paper before her and knows she can never pay the new premium. It would mean the end of her animal hospital. She also knows veterinary hospitals are now being sold only for the underlying real estate. An auction follows for the residual equipment.

Kaylie stands and slowly walks through the hallway and out the side door. She stumbles to her car and silently drives her 1998 Toyota home to call the bank and her accountant. Afterward she would have a very long cry.

Impossible and absurd?

Oh, really? Who, 10 years ago, would have predicted the overwhelming and practice-changing impact that Internet pharmacies would be making in today's veterinary marketplace? Absurd would have been the cry in 1994.

We, in fact, have to consider the far-reaching impact that today's animal rights movement and well-meaning lawmakers are making for the pet population and even the whole of the animal population. Some of these changes are needed and welcome. This is especially so regarding animal welfare issues in general.

However, the pendulum is swinging beyond reason when animals are raised to the status of people and/or citizens of this country. This is where we may be headed. Laws are already on the books in two states that could set a precedent that may make the foregoing storyline a reality. This would be a tragedy for the animal population as well as our profession.

What if?

What if our profession could weather this storm for a while relying on insurance and other third party scenarios?

Ultimately, the legal profession and insurance companies would bring forth a similar system that is currently sucking the medical profession dry.

The process that has taken 50 years to unravel the medical profession could, in our case, take less than 10 years due to inherent narrow margins at all levels. The profession would enter a Dark Age that would take many years to recover.

The possibility exists that the profession could retreat into a corporate cocoon where a faceless profession plies its trade under the protection of a corporate drug company curtain and its attorneys. Rural practice would disappear.

What to do?

Get organized. Unfortunately, if we are anything, we are a diverse and poorly organized profession.

Our small numbers and the disinterest of a large proportion of the profession in anything but their own practices have left us vulnerable. Our only real hope is in organized veterinary medicine.

Those organizations that have the unmitigated brass to ask for dues are the organizations that can ultimately help the private practitioners the most. Never mind that they are over-politicized and pompous at times. They are the best we have and we all ought to belong and contribute in meaningful ways.

Too many of us are just baggage being lugged along at the expense of others. There ought to be a long line waiting to "pony up" for the good of the profession. Unfortunately, most of our professional organizations must devote precious resources and time creating membership drives that achieve limited success.

Get to know your congressman and involve yourself in the community. Too many of us live and act like civic hermits. Throw away your cynicism and enter the fray.