We must be rapidly approaching the full moon’s maximum effects. I can tell because almost every post this week has been soooo self-centered and sensitive. I know you guys get sick of it (I can tell from your exasperated comments, at times) but here’s one more self-indulgent post on the topic of…you.
As vets, we’re in the business of selling our advice…one way or the other. Like most other professionals, we’re in the habit of expecting the majority of our clients to accept it. Sure, sometimes they don’t (as in Dingleberry’s extreme case) and we can get indignant—even furious—at our clients’ obvious failings. But we all have to remember we’re providing a service our clients don’t always have to buy.
It’s true that ego sometimes gets in the way. How can you insult me by ignoring my brilliant recommendations so flagrantly? Human docs get accused of this far more than we do. (“The God Complex,” its been called.) But vets do it too. And in such cases we’d do well to take a step back and whack our egos back into reluctant submission before going on the ugly offensive—defensively.
The big picture in giving and taking advice is pretty simple: we all have responsibilities we need to address according to our own priorities. That’s why I seek out clients with my own values and nurture these relationships with lavish attention—even if most of this decision-making happens in my subconscious brain. I also have the tendency to engage in the converse activity—conveniently forgetting phone calls to clients who are clearly on my last raw nerve, for example.
And that’s where you come in. By writing this blog every day, I’ve managed to recruit a group of supportive contributors to the cause we all believe in: animal welfare through pet health. It’s only a little contribution but it’s something special…and it’s by no means all mine.
Your comments, in case you don’t know it, are not only read thoroughly; they’re internalized to a degree you might not imagine. OK, so I’m sensitive. But that means that I do take your advice and I do change my way of thinking when you make clear, persuasive arguments. I especially like those comments that make me think for weeks on end about my point of view on a topic. More so those that challenge my biases and make great fodder for evening conversations with my confidantes.
I think a reasonably good professional in any field does this, too. Whether it’s the vet on the other side of the stainless steel table or the lawyer across the lacquered desk, thoughtful suggestions from clients—accepted with an open mind by the service provider—are crucial to the success of any joint enterprise.
Sometimes a professional is only as good as the partnership with her client is solid. I mean, you can’t fix a pet if his owner refuses to medicate him and fails to tell you about it, to boot. Right?
I can tell you that I’ve changed my approach to feeding dogs and recommending foods after doing a lot of research many of you suggested. (Yep, the pet food recall played a big part but we got through that together, didn’t we?) My biased take on fat pets deserves a big mea culpa after you got through with me. Even my recent shock collar post has given the pro-collar position more credibility in my eyes (in spite of follow-up, no-never discussions with vet behaviorists on the subject).
These are just a few examples that come to mind—I have several every week I could cite. So thanks for your words and your sincere contributions. Smarmy as it sounds (appropriate silly voice here)…I love you, man. ;-)
