Hidden Struggles of Veterinarians

When compassion meets an impossible system

Written by Kim Matheson



Many of us have a love–hate relationship with our veterinarian. On one hand, we deeply appreciate the care, compassion, and expertise they bring to our pets’ lives. On the other, we’re often shocked and dismayed when the cost of care becomes a barrier—when saving our beloved pet seems to hinge not on the vet’s ability, but on whether we can afford it.

To make things more complicated, more and more veterinary clinics are being bought out by large corporate chains. These companies often invest heavily in cutting-edge diagnostic tools and treatment technologies. While that may sound like a good thing, it also means higher prices and pressure to sell these services. As a result, the best care can become something only the well-off can afford.

This model of veterinary care presents a lot of challenges for pet owners. But what’s often overlooked is how much pressure it puts on veterinarians themselves—especially those who entered the profession out of compassion, a strong ethical code, and a desire to provide high-quality care.

A Silent Mental Health Crisis

It may surprise you to learn that veterinarians have some of the highest suicide rates of any profession. Male vets are nearly twice as likely to die by suicide compared to the general population. For female vets, the risk is three to five times higher (Silva et al., 2023).

Why? There’s no single answer, but one major factor is the ethical tension that arises when financial limitations prevent a vet from providing the care they know is possible. In survey after survey, veterinarians report this as one of their most painful dilemmas (Batchelor & McKeegan, 2012; Moses et al., 2018; Kondrup et al., 2016).

When Ethics and Reality Clash

These dilemmas can lead to what’s known as moral distress or moral injury—the emotional harm that comes from being forced to act in ways that violate your personal or professional values. For vets, this might mean having to euthanize an animal that could have been saved, or being unable to stop the suffering of a pet because its owner refuses euthanasia but can’t afford treatment. It can also include witnessing incompetent behavior by colleagues, or feeling powerless in the face of animal abuse.

These situations are heartbreaking—and they’re far too common.

The Rising Bar of Expectations

In today’s world, pet care is changing. With access to more advanced technologies, many clients expect vets to “do everything possible” to save their pet. That expectation changes the entire dynamic between the vet, the pet, and the human caregiver.

Unfortunately, newer vets are often trained in university animal hospitals filled with the latest technology. While this training is valuable, it can mean that basic, lower-cost diagnostic methods that nonetheless meet important standards of care are underused. When clients can’t afford the high-tech options, the only alternatives may be euthanasia or doing nothing at all.

On the flip side, wealthier clients may place pressure on vets to pursue treatments, even when there’s little chance of improving the pet’s quality of life. Unlike in animal research, where humane endpoints guide decisions, pet care often lacks clear lines. This can lead to extended suffering as treatments continue as a result of human clients emotional needs rather than medical benefit for the beloved pet (Grimm et al., 2018).

The Bigger Picture

All of this adds up to a veterinary profession under immense strain. Vets face growing pressure to succeed in cases that are medically and ethically complex—often while having less freedom to make decisions that reflect both their knowledge and their values. They navigate tense relationships with clients, confront financial constraints daily, and sometimes walk away feeling helpless, even when they’ve done everything they can.

This isn’t just a personal burden—it’s a systemic problem. If we want to protect the mental health of veterinarians, we need to rethink how we approach pet care, pricing, expectations, and ethics.

Veterinarians are healers, not miracle workers or salespeople. If we truly value them—and our pets—we owe it to both to build a system that supports compassionate, realistic, and sustainable care.






















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