Is the veterinary profession at a breaking point—or on the verge of breakthrough?

In late 2024, a veterinarian took to an online forum to make a painful confession: “I go to bed every night with a feeling of dread about the next day…I’ve taken 3 months off since January, and it isn’t enough…It just feels like my whole life has come to nothing, and I’m so, so tired”[1]. This heartfelt post, which resonated with hundreds of veterinary professionals, is not an isolated cry for help. It reflects a pervasive crisis in veterinary medicine – one that predates the COVID-19 pandemic, was magnified during the pandemic, and continues to evolve in its aftermath.

Veterinary medicine, long idealized as a “dream job” for animal lovers, is now grappling with levels of stress, burnout, and mental health strain that rival or exceed those in human healthcare[2][3]. Research over the past decade has consistently found veterinarians at high risk for psychological distress – burnout, anxiety, depression, and even suicide – at rates higher than the general population[2]. A 2022 scoping review concluded that all studies reviewed reported a high prevalence of work-related stressors in veterinary practice, with long working hours and ethical dilemmas standing out as major sources of strain[4]. The culture of veterinary medicine itself has come under scrutiny for fostering unsustainable norms – vets are often labeled passionate and altruistic, expected to put patients above self and be “impervious to stress and fatigue,” which can normalize unhealthy work habits[5].

This article examines how the landscape of veterinary stress has shifted across three key periods – the pre-COVID era (2018–2019), the height of COVID (2020–2021), and the post-COVID “new normal” (2022–2025). We draw on empirical academic literature and real-world data from veterinary forums (Reddit) to compare what the research says versus what frontline professionals are experiencing. The goal is to identify overlaps, mismatches, and overlooked issues – and to spark a vital conversation about professional ethics, workplace culture, mental health, and the sustainability of the veterinary profession.

Before COVID: Longstanding Pressures Beneath the Dream

Even before the pandemic, veterinary professionals faced a perfect storm of stressors. Academic research throughout the 2010s painted a sobering picture of a field under strain. In a systematic review of studies from 2012–2022, Stetina & Krouzecky (2022) found that the majority of veterinarian stressors fell into the “social” category – chiefly conflicts and challenges in interactions with animal owners[6]. This aligns with a common refrain among vets: dealing with pet owners can be harder than dealing with pets. Communication difficulties, unrealistic client expectations, and emotionally charged encounters were cited as the number one stressor category, suggesting that improved communication training could be a key intervention[7]. Another widely acknowledged top stressor was the burden of euthanasia – making life-or-death decisions for animals – especially when driven by clients’ inability to afford treatment. Euthanasia has been “mentioned by veterinarians as one of the top stressors” in multiple studies[8], particularly “economic euthanasia” (putting an animal down for financial reasons), which inflicts moral distress on vets. Research indicates that performing euthanasia under such circumstances, combined with a lack of support in the workplace, can markedly heighten the risk of burnout[9][8].

Long hours and heavy workloads have also long been part of the veterinary reality. Surveys before 2020 showed vets often work well over 40 hours a week, with long shifts and overnight duties common, especially in emergency and large animal practice. It’s no surprise that studies have identified work hours and workload as major sources of stress for vets[10]. One scoping review noted that working hours and ethical dilemmas stand out as major stressors in veterinary jobs[10]. Poor work-life balance was taking a toll: conflict between work and personal life significantly raised odds of poor physical and mental health in one meta-analysis[11], and veterinary medicine – being a profession that deals with emergencies and caregiving – is especially prone to such conflicts.

Another piece of the puzzle is financial strain. By 2018, awareness was growing that many veterinarians graduate with massive student debt (often hundreds of thousands of dollars) only to earn relatively modest salaries, creating chronic financial stress. While scientific literature has traditionally focused more on psychological and workplace factors, the economic pressures were not lost on those in the field. (In fact, as we’ll see later, recent studies show feeling financially unstable is correlated with higher burnout[12].) Online, vets frequently vented about debt and money issues. For example, one pre-2020 Reddit thread discussed the veterinarian vs. physician assistant pay gap, questioning whether the stress and schooling for a DVM was “worth it” compared to other careers【34†】. Such discussions highlight a simmering frustration: a sense of being overworked and underpaid, which can feed into burnout.

Perhaps most alarmingly, veterinary professionals entered the pandemic with an already elevated incidence of mental health issues and even suicide. Studies in the late 2010s drew attention to higher suicide rates among veterinarians compared to the general public, and a high prevalence of depression and anxiety in the field[13][2]. By 2019, the conversation around vet mental health was gaining momentum – both in journals and on forums. Burnout had become a buzzword. In 2019, a European survey found veterinarians reporting stress levels averaging 6.9 out of 10, significantly higher than general working populations[14][15]. The same survey noted that younger and early-career vets were especially vulnerable, reporting higher stress and lower well-being than their older colleagues[16][17]. This is echoed by multiple studies: female and younger veterinarians consistently show higher risk of psychological distress and burnout than male or more experienced vets[18][19]. Reasons suggested include generational differences in coping, the steep learning curve for recent grads, and added pressures on women in a now female-majority profession (e.g. juggling family responsibilities, or facing gender-based client biases)[20][21].

What were veterinary professionals themselves saying in the pre-COVID era? On social media, there were hints of the brewing storm, even if the discussion was smaller than it would later become. A scan of Reddit posts from 2018–2019 on r/Veterinary reveals recurring themes: young vets and students sharing burnout stories, senior techs and vets talking about compassion fatigue, and people asking whether the career is worth the toll. In one 2019 thread titled “New grad, already need advice on getting out of the field”, a freshly minted veterinarian admitted they were so overwhelmed and disillusioned that they were considering leaving the profession within their first year【33†】. Another user in 2018 bluntly asked, “Have you ever needed to quit your job due to mental health and stress?”, sparking a discussion where multiple vets said yes – they had walked away from toxic clinics or taken mental health breaks to survive【33†】. There were also conversations about guilt and mistakes – for instance, “How do you deal with accidentally killing a pet?” one vet asked, referring to the trauma of medical errors or adverse outcomes. Likewise, the moral burden of euthanasia came up in posts seeking advice on coping with the emotional aftermath of putting animals down.

Table 1: Key stressor themes in veterinary medicine before COVID (2018–2019), as identified in research vs. as discussed in online forums. Sources: Selected veterinary stress studies and Reddit r/Veterinary posts.

The late 2010s revealed a veterinary profession under significant strain, even as it remained publicly revered as a caring profession. The cracks were evident to those paying attention: overworked practitioners, moral distress from difficult cases, friction with clients, and mounting mental health concerns. Yet for many outside the field – and even for some within – these issues were often downplayed as “part of the job.” That would soon change.

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