For a long time, I was against purebred dogs and subscribed exclusively to the "adopt don't shop" mentality. I lacked an understanding of the practice of responsible, ethical dog breeding. Once I came to vet school, one of the faculty members here at UC Davis, Dr. Danika Bannasch, had a huge impact on my view of purebred dogs. She studies genetics and breeds and shows purebred dogs of her own. She has taught us that purebred dogs, when bred according to kennel club standards, maintain maximum genetic diversity, minimize genetic abnormalities, and select for desired and beneficial characteristics for the breed. Purebred dogs are important because they can provide owners with predictable health profiles, trainability, and personality qualities. The best breeders work closely with their veterinarians to ensure the health of their breeding dogs and the puppies they produce which can only be beneficial for owners and the field of veterinary medicine alike. Many important working dogs are purebred and have long histories of breeding specifically for their desired skillset. Examples of such dogs include Border Collies who show an instinct to herd from a very young age, German Shorthaired Pointers pointing at decoys as puppies, and Belgian Malinois with their incredible intelligence and drive to bite instilled in them seemingly from birth. Even for problematic breeds such as the French Bulldog, professional breeders can help produce Frenchies with less health issues than we see with the backyard breeders. It's when inexperienced and unqualified people decide to breed dogs for quick profit that we see the worst of the worst genetic abnormalities. These people typically don't pursue the genetic testing of their breeding dogs that the qualified breeders do and instead breed according to what will sell without considering the quality of life those puppies will have. With the understanding I have now, I am a big proponent of responsible and qualified breeders maintaining purebred dog breeds.

In three years, I'll be approaching my 35th birthday. I'll be a recent graduate from UC Davis School of Veterinary Medicine, and I will finally have those three letters behind my name. I'll be completing a rotating internship, having created some lifelong bonds with my intern-mates, and I will have a strong conviction to whatever specialty I decide to spend the following three years pursuing. Right now, I say that specialty will be ECC, but I want to keep an open mind like everyone tells us to. My whole career as an RVT has been in emergency and ICU, and my favorite patients have been some of the sickest because of the level of care, ingenuity, and collaboration their cases required. Their families have also been some of the most memorable and dedicated I have had the pleasure of working with. I know a lot of people going into veterinary medicine talk about doing so because of their love for animals, and I agree with that sentiment whole-heartedly, but through working in the field and through my own personal experiences with my own pets, working with the families who love them has become my other biggest motivator for pursuing my DVM. When I was a kid, my grandma (Lita) nurtured mine and my sister's love for animals. She put me on my first horse, bought my sister and I each a rabbit after we begged our mom and she had already told us no, and one day Lita surprised us with kittens who were found in a neighbor's yard and couldn't have been more than a few days old. My grandma taught us to bottle feed them, clean them, and my sister and I each raised our own kitten and loved them more than we could imagine we would every love anything else. I named my cat Angel, and my sister named hers Stephanie. We never grew up taking our animals to the vet regularly. Our family would go to the vet when something seemed to be wrong, and that was it. One day, I went to pick up my cat, and she turned and hissed at me. This kitty that I had bottle-fed from a baby and watched her eyes open had never done such a thing towards me. I knew something was wrong, so I put her in her carrier and rushed her to the nearest ER I could find. The front staff took one look at her, someone came out from the back, took Angel in her carrier, and I sat down in the waiting room. I remember some time going by before I was placed in an exam room. A lot from that day is a blur, but I remember feeling panicked, rushed, lost, and confused. There was fluid in her chest, and I was being presented with paper after paper, signing for more and more money each time, but no one took time to sit with me and explain what was happening or check for my understanding. Angel was euthanized and her last day with me is one that replays through my mind often. This is a story I remind myself of when a client is being difficult or I am frustrated with a family's decision. I remind myself that they don't understand the situation like I do. We may have the same goal, but we are seeing the situation through different lenses. As a veterinarian, I will continue to replay this story in my head and take the time necessary with each client so that they don't feel the way I did that day.