Category: Students

  • Hitting pause

    Hitting pause

    I’ve known for a long time I wanted to be a vet. This has meant that, since a very early age, a lot of my big decisions were pre-decided; GCSE and A-level options, university course, etc.

    My choice in universities was narrowed down to a one-digit figure before I’d gone to my first open day – and even then I could only apply to four of them, while all my non-medical friends applied to five.

    Even in the vet school itself, there’s very little wiggle room or chance to apply individuality to the curriculum. I don’t see this as a negative, as I understand why that is: when professionals graduate, an assumed blanket level of knowledge for everyone, the same playing field, same skills and knowledge base so that we can all perform equally in a career that requires us to do so.

    That being said, it’s the ability to self-direct my learning in a way I’ve never had a chance to before that’s made me jump at the prospect of intercalation.

    A year out

    Intercalation, for vets at Bristol, involves taking a year away from their studies between years three and four to pursue something related to their course and/or future careers, but that they wouldn’t have had the opportunity to learn otherwise. You can choose to do these at your current university, or somewhere new, and there are a variety of different intercalation courses you are briefed on in years two and three.

    It essentially allows students to broaden the depth of their knowledge in a specific area, either one they’re particularly interested in or that they feel will benefit their chosen career paths.

    For me, it’s a bit of both. I don’t see it as a distraction from the veterinary course and what I’ve learned, but as a way for me to figure out how I best want to utilise it.

    How long is too long?

    I know for a lot of people, especially non-vets, taking an intercalation year in the middle of a five-year-long degree might seem a little unnecessary – do you really want to double the length of the average degree? And is it really worth it?

    Looking back, though, the idea of a five-year course never fazed me; it was just another decision I took for granted as not really being a decision at all, and to be honest I wanted to be  a vet so badly the course could have been a decade long and I’d probably have been just as keen.

    Worth it

    In terms of worth, I think it all boils down to what you want to get out of your degree, and indeed your career. It’s also worth thinking about money, as well as time management – although, of course, it’s never too late to keep learning. If you wanted to return for another course at university after graduation this would take you longer than a year, and currently postgraduate student loan funding isn’t as easy to navigate as the undergrad scheme.

    I know it’s not for everyone, but I personally find the idea of intercalating and looking beyond what I need to know and a little more into what I want to know so, so, so exciting. And if it helps to give me the time and self-insight to figure out exactly what type of vet I want to be when I graduate, then I feel like that’s going to make me a better vet all around.

  • Don’t bite off more than you can chew

    Don’t bite off more than you can chew

    All students dream of having it all – straight As, buzzing social life and maybe a small part-time job to help you afford the latter…

    There’s no doubt that whatever year you’re in, whatever course you’re on, you’ve probably got a lot going on.

    The important thing I’ve found, however (easier said than done, mind you), is not to overload yourself in an effort to try it all right off the bat – I’m looking at you freshers.

    One step at a time

    When I first came to uni, I began juggling a lot: three jobs (yes, I appreciate the hypocrisy, but hear me out), making new friends, keeping in contact with friends and family at home, moving into a new city, joining societies – and occasionally sleeping, but who has the time?

    And then, of course, there’s the course itself – the very reason I was there in the first place – and yet it was just one of the armada of things I had to think about.

    I understand when you rock up to university as a first-year, everything around you looks equally shiny and new, and so exciting. It’s bursting with new opportunities, restaurants you never had in your corner of the country, clubs you’ve always wanted to join, sports you’ve never even heard of… it can be so easy to just run to fresher’s fair and sign yourself up for everything with the full intention of going to it all – and you may try. But, take it from me, if you actually want to enjoy each new experience, take it a step at a time.

    Find your passion

    Try joining a society or two in your first few weeks, and if you discover they’re not really you, there’s no harm with trying something else… and so on, and so on until you find something that sticks – something you have a real passion for.

    There’s no use spending significant amounts on new trainers, gym gear and a tennis racket before you realise you’ve zero hand-eye coordination, but have a real penchant for amateur dramatics.

    The average student is at uni for three years. That’s plenty of time to try everything you wanted to and more, and if you’re a medicine student – really, what’s the hurry?

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    Get a handle on those early starts before signing up to various clubs and activities, suggests Eleanor Goad.

    Slow and steady

    I would also recommend learning to adjust to your routine before adding new commitments (I’m sure you’ve heard the saying “don’t run before you can walk”).

    Lectures can be daunting enough on their own, so get a handle on those 9am starts first before signing yourself up for an away match the other side of the country that gets you up at 6am!

    Stress is a big problem for students, and not just for vets. It’s obviously important to extend your interests outside your course and do things that excite and drive you but, at the same time, be sensible and know that if you want to have it all, it might require a little bit of trial and error – and a lot of patience.

     

  • A different kind of exam

    A different kind of exam

    A veterinary career and examinations go hand in hand. I can’t count the number of papers I’ve sat over the last quarter of my life that have opened the doors to where I am now.

    If you manage to make it even half way through the vet course it can be assumed you have mastered the art of taking tests.

    But third year, I’m coming to realise, is a game changer.

    The same, but different

    I don’t think it properly dawned on me until our first day back during an afternoon practical. We were going over a routine canine examination, mimicking the role of any vet when a fresh patient comes through their doors; travelling from nose to tail, searching for abnormalities, checking mucous membranes, smelling inside the ears – the works.

    We also covered various injection sites along with their pros and cons, how and where to auscultate the lungs, and even how to wash our hands – which, it turns out, is far more complex than life up until now had led us to believe.

    Now don’t get me wrong, they hadn’t waited until third year to teach us all of this (a lot of it was basic stuff; the habits general practice workers could do in their sleep). No, the difference was that, in these practicals, we actually had real dogs.

    New experiences

    It sounds childish given our future line of work, but as any vet student will confirm, when we see an animal, any animal, but especially dogs, we get very excited. It’s not just the fact it’s a cute dog (although, I won’t lie to you, that’s also a big part of it, too), but getting to practice something you’ve spent hours, if not days, learning about in the classroom on an actual patient – even a volunteer one who’s really just there for the treats and attention is such a breath of fresh air and an experience to be jumped on.

    Palpating lymph nodes that aren’t sewn into stuffed animals, palpating an abdomen that isn’t lying on your dissection table – all these things are akin to luxury for new third years.

    But, with this rush of this new kind of learning, came to realisation of what they were preparing us for: the dreaded OSCEs – a whole new kind of exam.

    Image © stokkete/ Adobe Stock
    “Before long, we won’t be able to pass every test they throw at us by last-minute reading and flash cards” – Eleanor Goad. Image © stokkete/ Adobe Stock

    Growing up

    It’s always difficult having to start over or break out of an old routine into a new one, but when you go from pre-clinical to clinical you pretty much have to do just that. As you and your cohorts shuffle ever closer to becoming real full-fledged vets, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that you get treated more and more like one, and are expected to act a little more like one.

    Before long, we won’t be able to pass every test they throw at us by last-minute reading and flash cards. Attention to detail, compassion, patience and professionalism will begin to carry the same weight as memorising words from a page.

    In my mind, this can only be a good thing; a little scary, perhaps, but it’s also a nice reminder of where we’re headed. Working with real animals, working on problem solving – it all helps to make the future a little more tangible and less of an abstract concept.

    I don’t know how I’m going to shape up with this new style of assessment coming my way, but I’ll certainly give it my best.

  • Two down, three to go

    Two down, three to go

    Image: Image © stevecuk / Adobe Stock
    Eleanor Goard says that, at the start of your course, it’s hard to envisage how you’re meant to metamorphose into a competent and qualified vet in just five short years. However, two years into her studies, it no longer feels impossible. Image © stevecuk / Adobe Stock

    I feel so incredibly lucky to be where I am today: two years down as a vet student, on the course of my dreams and heading toward the career I’ve been aspiring to since I was six years old.

    And it’s still as surreal, stressful and exciting as ever!

    For Bristol uni, at least, the gap between the second and third years is significant in that it’s where we transition from pre-clinical to clinical content; moving from the nice safety bubble of learning and classrooms to more of the practical stuff, and the “this is why you were learning it in the first place”.

    Holding pattern

    If I’m being honest, it’s a little daunting. It’s uncharted territory – just like the beginning of the course.

    I think I’ve fallen into a comfortable pattern of learning, digesting and regurgitating theory, so the idea of breaking away from that is, quite frankly, a little scary. One thing that keeps the nerves at bay, however, is acknowledging how far I’ve already come.

    When you start vet school and walk away from those first few lectures realising how much you already have to learn, it can be really hard to envisage how on earth you’re meant to metamorphose into a competent and qualified veterinary surgeon in just five short years. But here I am, two years later… and I think the pieces are starting to come together.

    Voyage of discovery

    I know so much more now than I ever thought possible: how everything works, why it sometimes stops working and how to make it work again – the gist of any medical degree at its heart.

    The fact I will be able to call myself “doctor” in just a few short years still seems incredible, but no longer impossible.

    Yes, it’s something new, something slightly intimidating; but I’m so excited to explore this new part of my degree, where I’ll begin to learn new skills I will use for the rest of my career – to start discovering what being a vet actually means, and what kind of vet I want to be.

  • Things I wish I’d known

    Things I wish I’d known

    Looking back, applying to vet school was probably one of the most stressful times of my life – and for good reason.

    There’s a lot to get your head around; I was juggling A-levels, work experience, open days and, in hindsight, I‘m so thankful for whatever pearls of wisdom regarding the whole the process I managed to glean in the form of various blogs, websites and face-to-face talks with my local vets.

    It’s only been two years since I, too, was anxiously waiting my results. So much has happened since then, vet school of course bringing its own set of trials and triumphs, but nevertheless, as the month of exam results looms I can’t help but empathise with those who are now where I was not so very long ago.

    I know when I was at that stage I had so many unanswered questions. About student life, the course, the application requirements… So I’d like to try and help any others who might feel the same way by going through a few misconceptions I heard floating around when I was applying to vet school, with a little bit of friendly advice thrown in for good measure.

    Common misconceptions

    # 1: It’s all about the grades

    Now, to all you budding vets out there, I’d love to tell you that grades don’t matter in the slightest, but the vet course is demanding and most vet schools out there expect the standard three As.

    That being said, if you fall short just a little it doesn’t have to be the end of the road. The University of Nottingham requires an A in Chemistry and Biology with a B in another chosen subject, and one of my closest friends in my year was admitted to Bristol with two As and a B. What stood her apart and made the university look past her grades is a part of the application process that outranks exam results in so many ways: interviews.

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    Didn’t quite hit the mark? Don’t worry, says Eleanor Goad. If you fall slightly short of your three A-grades, it doesn’t have to be the end of the road. Image © highwaystarz / Adobe Stock

    Universities receive so many applications each year, most of which promise academic excellence and prowess. But, when it comes to sorting through these candidates, what really helps you stand out from the crowd is what you‘re like as a person. Not the letters on a piece of paper, or even your personal statement when all’s said and done – just you. This is where you show your passion, your enthusiasm and, most importantly, get to make eye contact with an actual human being instead of filling out a variety of forms.

    It’s daunting, I know. I remember the butterflies at my first and, in fact, all my interviews. But the key thing to remember is you’re only nervous because of how much this means to you, and if you let the interviewer see this for themselves it says far more about you than your grades ever could.

    # 2: You will live, sleep and breathe the vet school, you will have time for nothing else

    One of the main things I kept hearing, especially on open days, was that the curriculum of vet school was so demanding it would consume my entire student life. I was told many times I would have no time to work, to socialise or live my student life in the same way as the rest of my cohorts.

    I know that every uni experience is different and indeed each vet course is different but, in my opinion, it IS possible to have your cake and eat it too.

    If you manage to get into vet school you already must have excellent time management skills and so if you’d like to get a small term-time job (I even managed two) or join several societies or explore the nightlife of whatever new city you’re venturing to has to offer, a little time management is all it takes.

    I’m not saying you won’t be busier than some of your friends on other courses or that you can slack off – rolling into bed at 4am every morning, but you can have a life outside of vet school if you so wish.

    # 3: I need to study all the sciences and have 100 weeks of work experience to be good enough for vet school

    Honestly, this one is just plain wrong.

    If you’ve got an itch only science can scratch, then by all means enjoy those triple sciences – maybe maths too if you’re that way inclined. But if you’re anything like me and you have a penchant for English, economics, history or something that doesn’t seem entirely “vetty”, unless you’re looking to apply to Cambridge or Glasgow (these do require more “academic” subjects) it is okay not to go down the all-science route.

    Vet schools look for well-rounded enthusiastic individuals and if your choice of A-levels are brought up at interview, as they were at mine, it’s much easier to enthuse over a subject you’re genuinely passionate about than one you’re taking for the sake of it. And in regards to work experience, not all of us can be fortunate enough to live within range of three farms, two vet practices, a vet hospital, a cattery, a kennel (etc) or to even have access to, or the funds to travel to, all of them.

    As long as you get as much varied work experience to the best of your ability, for example the RVC only asks for a minimum of four weeks, then you won’t be dismissed for not having enough.

  • Always on: a new perspective

    Always on: a new perspective

    It was a couple of weeks before I set off for Bristol and an uncertain, but exciting life on the vet course that my mother – who’s been a member of the medical field for many years – began pointing out various dogs and cats to me as we passed them, stating that, once I began studying medicine, I would never look at these animals in quite the same way.

    They would be patients, not just pets, she reminded me. In the same way she herself subconsciously clocked subtle signs and symptoms in the people she interacted with day to day, not even meaning to look for things a person without the same training or knowledge would ever think to look for.

    At the time, I was dubious. To my mind, a cavalier King Charles spaniel would always be, to me, an adorable cavalier King Charles spaniel. Two years on, I can, perhaps begrudgingly, admit to her she was right.

    A blessing and a curse

    I think one of the greatest strengths of any medical profession – their extensive and almost unfathomable reserve of knowledge – is also their greatest curse.

    There’s a reason they say doctors and nurses make the worst patients – it’s most likely because when you‘re drilled over your 5-year to 6-year course – whatever your poison – to consume gargantuan amounts of knowledge about anatomy, physiology, microbiology and how it all goes wrong, when it comes to your down time, you can’t just switch that off.

    There’s no way to know all you need to know between 9am and 5pm, and then just un-know it until you need it again the following morning. Knowing everything that can and could go wrong is perhaps one of the plethora of reasons why medical staff – human and veterinary – suffer from stress the way they do.

    Can’t help but think about…

    To put this into context for you, I am a lover of fluffy breeds and, aside from empathising with them a little over the hotter months, I didn’t ever think too much about them in the way of anything remotely pathological.

    Now, though, I can’t help but catch a glimpse of what is undoubtedly a very well-cared for animal without thinking about the dermatitis, the ear mites, the conjunctivitis…

    I don’t want to be thinking about that, I can assure you. I’d much rather be thinking about the adorable dog I’ve just witnessed – but take it from me, it’s a really hard thing not to do; much like being told not to think about elephants and then finding yourself only thinking about elephants.

    Wealth of knowledge

    Don’t get me wrong; I love having this ever-growing pool of information at my fingertips. But is the knowledge of every disease or parasite I could ever contract slightly stressful? Yes. Is the act of learning all of these also somewhat stressful? Also yes.

    But learning all this is half the reason any of us decided to become vets, doctors, nurses and so on in the first place. There’s a lot of good that can be done with it. For starters, I was completely unaware of the medical issues surrounding brachycephalic breeds until my first year on the vet course. If vets don’t know the worst that could happen, how can they advise owners on how to prevent or manage it?

    One of the greatest responsibilities of medical practitioners is to educate; to pass the knowledge on. It will be a part of your life in a much wider capacity than just your career, so it’s not something to be scared of, but taken advantage of.

  • Head versus heart

    Head versus heart

    For those, like myself, who started off wanting to be a vet from a very young age, it was most likely with the sweetest of intentions: wanting to take care of animals (particularly the cute ones), wanting to help people – just wanting to make everything okay.

    More than a decade on, I’d like to think those are still three solid goals I’ll carry with me throughout my career. But as my journey towards that career continues, I’m beginning to learn not all problems have an easy solution and, a lot of the time, you have to choose your professional opinion over your personal one.

    Sense of community

    Since I first stepped foot on a dairy farm, I’ve fancied myself as a farm vet. This was initially fuelled by a new found love of cows, but, over time, was reinforced by a fondness for the farming community and respect for those who worked within it. When I discovered that, despite the profession being largely dominated by women, most vets within the agricultural sector are male, I think it just spurred me on more.

    Though I may still choose to pursue this path some day, my concept of what it means to be a farm vet has drastically changed over the past two years of my vet course.

    I’ve touched on the fact before that treating working animals is a far cry from small animal practice. Of course, we’re still driven by the same desire to protect animal welfare, comfort and respect; but when you’re dealing with animals that are part of somebody’s livelihood (which are essentially an asset of a business) you also have to juggle costs and efficiency – and, in some cases, make a hard choice you wouldn’t have to make if the animal in front of you was, say, a golden retriever.

    Weighing the options

    That’s not to say evaluating costs isn’t a regular part of small animal practice. In my local practice I’ve seen more than a few cases where owners are forced to have their pets euthanised because they simply couldn’t afford the treatment.

    It’s also a matter of thinking what’s best for the animal, even if the owners do have the funds. Chemotherapy, for example, is incredibly expensive. If an owner wants to opt for this treatment, the first opinion vet must still consider whether the animal would ultimately benefit or suffer from the treatment, even if life was prolonged.

    Do the right thing

    Judging quality of life is a job that spans the medical fields of both humans and animals. The difference is vets have the legal right to euthanise when they feel the suffering outweighs the good.

    This, I think, will always be the ultimate battle between head and heart for any vet – the inherent will to prolong and protect life, weighed up with the knowledge of what, in that specific situation, is the right thing to do.

  • A vet’s role in an environmental crisis

    A vet’s role in an environmental crisis

    Climate change and mass extinction have been hot topics over recent weeks. But, if we’re being perfectly candid, these subjects should have reached the headlines a long time ago – which is perhaps why so many people have taken to the streets of London in protest.

    Though I share the plight of the people who have, and continue to demonstrate, as well as the frustration in the rate of progress being made (as it can appear, at times, to be achingly slow), there is nothing to be gained for mourning the time that’s been lost, as it’s time we will never get back.

    The only change we should concern ourselves with is that to come and, in the current climate (no pun intended), the next generation of vets will be vital in filling environmental, public relations and food health roles as they never have before.

    Food industry

    In recent lectures we have been encouraged to research and understand elements of the food industry outside of our curriculum. One expert informed us that if we carried on consuming and demanding food at the rate we are now, we would require five-and-a-half planet earths’ worth of space to feed the population within the next 100 years.

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    Within the next 100 years we will require five-and-a-half planet earths’ worth of space to feed the population, it has been claimed.

    This statement introduced what went on to be a two-hour seminar, and although none of the content was to be examinable, we all paid attention.

    I think it’s because we all understood that what we were being taught went beyond text books and exam papers – it represented a facet of the veterinary career that probably very few of us had even considered before applying for the course, and yet now seems one of the most important.

    Turning the tide

    A veterinarian’s role in conservation is no new thing, but with multi-species extinction on the rise, and with no signs of slowing down, it’s never been more important to encourage graduates to forego the comfort zones of first opinion practice and expand their experience in this field.

    It’s only by pooling together the research, time and expertise of as many trained medical, zoological and biological professionals as possible that we can begin to turn the tides, and protect the most vulnerable, but beautiful, creatures on our planet for good.

    Sustainable diet

    As for the world food crisis, reaching a solution is two-fold: finding a sustainable diet, and then finding the most efficient and cost-effective means of producing this diet on a global scale.

    Veterinary involvement is paramount for this to be achieved. Not only are vets crucial for both ethical and reliable research, they are also the bridge between the scientific and farming communities.

    By working alongside the farming industry and educating the next wave of agricultural workers in efficiency and sustainability, we can begin to form the infrastructure from which real, tangible change can be seen in all of our futures.

  • Staying motivated

    Staying motivated

    When your course is a minimum of five years long, and your days are filled with lab work, lectures and study, it can be easy to lose sight of the big picture – the real core driver behind why you wanted to be a vet in the first place.

    Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I’m sure no 18-year-old, fresh from 14 years of full-time education, has ever signed up for their degree purely for a love of spending the fleeting British summertime in an exam hall and 9am-5pm every day staring at a white board.

    For most of us, investing the money and dedicated years of our lives that university demands are all part and parcel of building the foundations for our futures.

    What’s it all for?

    For vets especially, many options are available: whether you’re driven towards specialised surgery, welfare, research or first-opinion practice, it all starts with the same degree, the same path, the same investment.

    However, while the journey may be unavoidable, the repetitive humdrum of student life (and life in general for that matter) can make it difficult to keep your eyes on the end goal.

    How bad do you want it?

    It’s not a matter of commitment. Trust me; if you even manage to get an interview for a veterinary course, you’re as committed as they come. There’s no way you’ll find a teenager voluntarily scooping poop – from a staggering variety of sources – on their weekends without a real solid mindset as to where they want to be.

    poo
    “There’s no way you’ll find a teenager voluntarily scooping poop – from a staggering variety of sources – on their weekends without a real solid mindset as to where they want to be.” Image © chelle129 / Adobe Stock

    When I was applying to vet schools, the standard requirements for work experience ranged from four to 12 weeks. I just about managed the latter, but I had friends around me doubling that – don’t ask me how.

    Getting sidetracked

    University life can be repetitive, not to mention full on… in a particularly heavy week, I managed to have a dream about revising ectoparasites, so let me tell you, sometimes there really is no escaping it.

    Through all this it’s understandable you might lose track of the driver that got you here in the first place, let alone what you want to do when you leave. When you‘re struggling to keep your head above water to deal with the task in front of you, how on earth are you supposed to look so far ahead?

    Personally, I didn’t realise I’d reached this point until very recently.

    The epiphany

    My university had organised “practice consult sessions” with some of its vet surgery’s genuine clients. Each client came to us with his or her dogs and had been told by our teaching staff to be as difficult as possible in an attempt to get us out of our shells.

    In groups, we had to practise gathering a patient history – not easy, as it turns out, when the client’s been instructed not to play ball – and describe a simple neutering, addressing both pros and cons.

    Not only did this supply a very realistic “hands-on” scenario, it forced us to use the collective knowledge provided to us in countless lectures and seminars and regurgitate it in a manner that was both professional and understandable. For example, a lot of the clinical terms we’re encouraged to memorise aren’t commonly used by the general public, so you must find easier ways of explaining things without oversimplifying anything important like surgical risks.

    Remind yourself

    I can’t describe how motivated I felt when I came home after that practical – I was buzzing.

    I had stood behind real vets in real consultations for so long, watching how they interacted with clients and patients and itching, from such a young age, to do what they did. I wish I could carry that feeling with me every day, but, of course, after a while you find yourself treading water again.

    I think the important thing is to give yourself moments every now and then to stop and reflect on how far you’ve already come, as well as where you want to go. The course, the workload, life in general – none of it’s easy. But if you want it enough, it’s so, so worth it.

  • Brachycephalic syndrome

    Brachycephalic syndrome

    The pug, shih-tzu and chihuahua are all breeds vets would describe as brachycephalic. This means their noses are proportionally shorter than the rest of their head – a far cry from their ancestors that would have these in about a 1:1 ratio.

    A lot of people find the large, puppy-dog eyes and wrinkly face charming and adorable. But, in truth, the aspects we love the most about these breeds might not be so desirable from the dogs’ own perspectives. The pug might be one of the nation’s favourite breeds – popularity for them has been on the rise in recent years – but, for vets, this is mirrored with a growing concern.

    Unintended consequences

    After cats, canines were the second animal to be domesticated by humans – and we have been selectively breeding them for thousands of years. Sometimes this is advantageous and the animal benefits from improved speed or stamina, but other breeds are less lucky – Labrador retrievers are prone to hip dysplasia, boxers to heart disease and pugs to a condition known as brachycephalic obstructive airway syndrome.

    The characteristic grunting and wheezing associated with pugs is not an endearing quirk, it indicates a far more sinister underlying issue.

    Pugs have changed dramatically just the past century, being purposefully bred for big eyes and a progressively flatter nose. Although, from the outside, this may not appear too big of an issue, it can lead to a severe impediment of the dogs’ ability to breathe, and the bulging eyes can also cause issues such as cherry eye, dryness and irritation.

    The big picture

    In June of 2018, Disney released Patrick, a film starring a pug as the main character, prompting the BVA to request its brachycephalic working group assist the studio in reducing any negative impacts the film might produce – particularly the anticipated interest in pugs after the movie’s release.

    Vets want to raise awareness of side effects of pedigree breeding, but it’s a fine line between showing concern for animal welfare and challenging a person’s livelihood, particularly as a lot of breeders idolise their favourite breeds and see no problem with the way they are made.

    Subsequently, a lot of the public are unaware of the link between some breeds and certain congenital diseases, and the increase in demand for pugs and similar dogs means the issues are only going to get worse over the next generations of breeding if nothing is done to raise awareness.