Once upon a time, most veterinary school graduates—weaned on a steady diet of entrepreneurial dreams and James Herriott books—dreamed of owning their own practices. After a few years of paying their dues with late nights, weekends, and emergencies, of course, they would follow the predictable path. But somehow that dream has changed. For many associates, it's dead.

A closer look: The seven-year itch

When I visit veterinary schools across the country, I ask students about their ownership intentions. The results, while not scientific, are very similar. Sixty percent or greater say ownership's not in their plans.

> Who will current practice owners sell their businesses to?

> Will veterinary medicine become a part-time profession?

> What will happen to veterinary compensation when fewer practice owners bear more of the debt risk and earn more of the reward?

> Will corporations increase their ownership of practices?

> Will the entrepreneurial spirit within our profession flicker out?

The biggest question is, of course, why the decline?

Revealing reasons for an ownership decline

I don't want to be overly dramatic, but this decrease in desire for ownership can have a huge impact on our profession. During our meeting, some advisory board members argued that a decreased desire to own stems from the gender shift. A whopping 80 percent of veterinary school graduates are female. And in its study of ownership trends, the latest Veterinary Economics survey found that only 24 percent of women associates want to own a practice someday, compared to 45 percent of men.

Other board members argued that the ownership shift has to do with the diminishing returns of ownership in today's economy or the school debt that today's students now bear upon graduation. Still others said the long hours required for ownership turn off a new generation focused on work-life balance.

Personally, I think much of the problem stems from young veterinarians' lack of positive role models. I hear this all the time when I visit veterinary schools. Many students following in their veterinarian parents' footsteps have watched them work 60 to 80 hours a week while handling night shifts and emergencies. They've seen their parents sacrifice their personal lives. That's their picture of veterinary practice ownership, and they're choosing another path. One student told me, "I don't want to work as hard as my dad. I respect him, but I don't want to be like him."

Recently I received a phone call from a veterinarian who had been in practice for almost 30 years. He had moved back to his hometown after graduation, joined a practice, and, several years later, purchased the business. He fulfilled his lifelong dream. He was married straight out of veterinary school—and not long after that, divorced. He had three children, and he was never able to spend much time with them as they grew up. He handled his hospital's emergencies and worked weekends. He told me he never thought much about an exit strategy; he just assumed he would sell his practice at retirement. He wanted me to help him, but, truthfully, it was too late. He hadn't kept up with changing technology and medicine. The practice had gone downhill and looked old—because it was. It'll be very hard for this owner to sell this practice. He might be lucky if he gets the value for the real estate and tangible assets.

What's more, this man's children resent him because he wasn't there for them while they grew up, and he now resents veterinary medicine and worries about his future and his long-hoped-for retirement.

Is this the role model we want new doctors to follow? Is it any wonder many of our graduates don't want to own a veterinary practice? Yes, there are plenty of practice owners out there who worked long hours and also led fulfilling family lives. But this was not an easy balance to strike. And our children have seen that.