Ever since I can remember a veterinarian is what I’ve wanted to be. When people ask why I chose veterinary medicine over human medicine I simply answer, “Veterinary medicine, because people are gross”. They laugh, I laugh, but it’s true. People are gross and animals aren’t. I find it difficult to watch people draw my blood but I find eating spaghetti while observing surgery on a horse to be easy.
When I was little I used to rescue injured animals and try to help heal them. Injured birds with broken wings and legs would find themselves in my care. I once used two sticks and tape to make a splint for a bird with a broken leg. Needless to say the splint did not last and a cat found my bird and I found its remains the next day. I was crushed and cried long and hard as I buried what was left of it. I’ve “rescued” birds literally from the paws and mouth of cats, thinking I was their savior when it probably would’ve been more humane to let the cat have it. Every bird I rescued died and I cried each and every time. We rescued baby squirrels and I took care of orphan kittens and stray dogs. If it was an animal and it needed help then I would take action. So choosing veterinary medicine as a career seemed like the most obvious choice.
I’ve shadowed three equine veterinarians, two small animal veterinarians and one bovine veterinarian. With every vet I shadowed my desire to become a veterinarian grew. It’s hard to believe what started out as a childhood dream is now becoming real. I sometimes don’t even believe it’s happening. In eight (long) years I’ll be a practicing equine/bovine veterinarian doing what I’ve always loved doing. Helping animals.
As we get closer and closer to my college departure my emotions grow more confused. Some mornings I wake up and feel on top of the world, confident and nothing but excitement for the journey ahead. And other days I wake up and my stomach is in knots, I have no appetite and feel anything but confidence. Some days I feel prepared for college and other days I feel as if nothing is ready, me especially. It’s a rollercoaster I’d love to get off of.
I’ve been staying on my Grandparent’s ranch in Texas since the end of June. On their ranch lives two dogs, chickens, a horse and several cows. There is one cow in particular, Cow 39 that will always be my favorite. I’ve known Cow 39 since I was six years old and she was four years old, that’s twelve years I’ve known her. I can go out into the pasture with the cows and she’ll leave the herd to come say hello. My family and I have taken to referring to her as “My Honorary Cow” as I’ve known her for so long. Every minute I spend with 39 reminds of why I want to be a veterinarian. I love animals. I love to help animals. I love being with animals. I love cows. I love horses. I love chickens. I love them all and love taking care of them when I can.
I’ve always dreamed and wanted to be a veterinarian for horses and cows because they’re my favorite animals. I’ve always wanted a ranch in Texas where I’d raise Quarter Horses and use them for cutting, reining, team roping and team penning. I’d raise black and red Angus and show them and sell them as well. I’d have my chickens for eggs and even a few ducks. The ranch would be roughly 150 acres with a few ponds and plenty trees. I’d have an indoor and outdoor riding arena and two large, lovely barns for my horses. The tack room would double as a lounge for guest and there’d be a loft for guests in both barns. I’d live in a small town similar to Rice or Corsicana and set up my veterinary practice out of my house on my land. This has always been my dream and goal and in a month I’ll be taking the first steps to achieving just that.
Every time I wake up feeling nervous I just look out at my Grandparent’s land, the horse, the chickens and my girl 39, and remember that someday soon I’ll have that and then some.