First, an explanation and a disclaimer. All the following reflects my personal experience with vets. For a variety of reasons, I've dealt with quite a few vets. Most of them were modestly capable. A handful were very, very good. One of them was so bad- both in skills and intention- that I considered him criminal. Two of them were absolutely inspired with cats. And a great many of them, though good (horse or lizard or pig) vets, were at best mediocre with cats, and only treated them because cat owners kept coming through their doors.

Nonetheless, its my experience and my opinions I'm offering. Take them both with as much salt as you feel you need.

To start with, here are some don't's.
A big red flag is the vet who has to do promotional stunts to drum up business. The mall guy in the bunny suit handing out suckers and free exams for kittens is just the worst conceivable bet. A good vet has a clientele, critters with a history with him, and pet owners who trust him. Nobody goes to a bad vet twice, and he has to do such publicity stunts, or start selling insurance.

Don't go to the strip-mall cat'r'us vets. These vets aren't necessarily bad, but its a sure thing they are inexperienced, and certainly overpriced. You may well want to check out one or more of these places for emergency off-hour treatment, but you can do better by your cat for primary care.

Don't go to vets whose announced, advertised specialties are not cats. Lizard and bird vets do lizards and birds. Large animal vets are into cows and stuff. Though they may treat cats, their sympathies are elsewhere, and they're letting you know up front. Take them at their word. They don't do cats.

Don't, when you're looking for a vet, settle for a clinic. Just because one clinic has an ace cat vet doesn't mean you'll get him when you make an appointment, and it doesn't mean he's consulting with the lizard vet who just looked at your cat's conjunctivitis. Look for a vet, not a clinic, and when you chose one, make certain the clinic *understands* that an appointment means an appointment with *your* vet. You're new in town and Tigger hurt his paw- well, go to the first vet available. But don't take it for granted that will be your vet from now on, and, obviously, don't go looking for a new vet in a crisis.

Lastly, don't fail to doubt, question, and badger your vet. A good vet, if he understands what he's doing, can explain any aspect of it to even us mere mortals. Vets are *not* infallible, and if you don't assert yourself in a dialogue, you may find your vet making decisions that are properly yours. What is the problem? Why this treatment? What are the alternatives? What is the downside of this treatment? Ask, ask, ask. Vets are human, despite appearances, and they're working for you.

Now then. You want a vet for Tigger. The first thing is to get your former vet's records for Tigger. Get hard copy printouts for yourself. That's the only sure way you know the records have been transfered. Once you have the records, keep the original and copy it for your new vet. Referrals are the first place to start. A referral from your vet, from friends, from associates at work. Then you hit the phone book. A close vet is not a trivial consideration. A vet who treats cats is a must. It's my impression, sexist though it may be, that women make better cat vets than men, but I've known male vets whom I respected.

Make a list: name, clinic, address, phone number. Start calling, or if you prefer (and it may be more effective) visit each one. If you call, you may be able to arrange an interview with the vet. If you visit, the interview is less certain, but you'll get a candid look at the clinic. If you call, arrange a visit with the vet. I've never paid a vet for such an interview, but I wouldn't be surprised if they asked. A phone interview will work, too, if you're prepared, but in-person is better. Take along your cats' records when you call. The first thing to look at is the clinic. Does is smell okay? There is only one answer to the question, are they busy: yes, very. Big black mark if they aren't.

Are the support people okay, appropriately dressed, cordial, efficient? Strike up a conversation with other pet owners; tell them why you're there. They'll tell you what they think of their vet, and you only need to discount it maybe fifteen percent. Ask to see an examination room, the surgery, the cages and kennels and so forth. Expect clean, and nothing less. Recovering critters (if its a surgery day) should be a focus of attention for the support people. Don't expect the critters to be happy to be there, but do expect them to have food and water, and to not-be lying in urine or such. You can figure out the details. Look in the corners. Smell. Poke around and be a nuisance. Satisfy yourself. Five points if the clinic has a resident cat. Ten points if that cat goes home with someone at night. Ask the office manager or receptionist for prices; you can use the records you brought in and compare various procedures with your former vet's pricing. When the vet is available, explain what you're about. Ask and ask and ask. The questions go something like this, and it wouldn't hurt to write them down.

• How long have you been treating cats?
• Do you specialize in cats?
• Do you have cats? ( A good answer is five at home and one in the clinic. A not-so-good answer is two horses, a gila monster, two ferrets, six rabbits, and oh yeah a cat.) Chat about the vet's cats; you want a vet who is crazy about cats, and nothing less.

  Present your own cats' records, and ask for comments, recommendations, explanations of problems and treatments your cats have. The vet should be able to explain what happened, and what they might have done, and how the same problems would be addressed in his care.

• Does the clinic have night staff? Most don't. Despite a general practice of keeping critters overnight, and even for several days, most of the clinics are closed up, lights out, locked up at the end of the day, and critters left there are left alone. Out of all the clinics I've known, only one had a caretaker for the critters at night, and that was only on the days when surgeries were done. Expect the wrong answer to this question, but at least ask it. It puts them on notice that an animal left at their clinic is an animal abandoned off-hours. Now that I think of it, if you already have a vet, ask them about night attendents. It really frosts me when a vet insists that a critter in crisis has to stay at the clinic- and that usually means a critter in crisis, alone, in a strange place, in the dark. Ask.
• Ask how surgeries are scheduled. In some clinics, the techs prep, anesthetize, open, and then close after the surgery; the vet rushes from theater to theater, doing whatever procedure is required at each surgical theater and leaving everything else to the techs. This isn't an uncommon practice, but it means if your critter has a crisis, the tech will have to deal with it, because the vet isn't even going to be available. He's going to be doing something critical on some other critter. This practice is done to save money, but its risky. Expect a vet who handles every aspect of a surgery to charge more (perhaps 20% more) but don't settle for less than that.
• Ask for the name of a back up vet. Consider that vet as a prospect as well, and especially if two vets recommend. Don't expect vets to say anything at all bad about their fellow vets, even the bad ones. They won't. They may offer the name of a particularly good one above others, though.
• Ask any other questions useful to you or the care of your cats. Don't stop with my questions. Do write them down.

So you're interviewing vets, trying to determine which will be best for your critter. What, specifically, are you looking for? It's a tough question, and there are no concise answers. I can suggest some guidelines, though.

In general, I want a vet to be knowledgeable, compassionate, and professional. Evaluating this is going to require a couple things of you, though. First, you have to realize that vets are *not* gods. That was a tough one for me; I have a lot of respect for the years and the discipline it takes to get a license. It's not always easy to question a vet's conclusion. They're trained. They know. Right? Naw, wait. They deserve respect; they are not gods, nonetheless, and something isn't true simply because they believe it. Doubt them, and question them with respect if your doubt seems reasonable. Second, the more you know about your cat, and cat health, the better you can make an intelligent selection of vets. Learn about cat health; you can make a better contribution to your vet's treatment, better recognize problems that arise, and, of course, put your vet on notice that half efforts aren't good enough for yours.

Also, there is a range of knowledge you have that your vet can never have, and that is the day to day experience of your cat, its habits and personality. Knowing how your cat should act can be critical to learning what a problem might be. A good vet won't dismiss your impression that Fluffers just isn't acting right. A bad one might. A vet has to put forth a considerable effort to stay current in his discipline, reading journals, research, new stuff. It isn't a casual effort, and the ongoing commitment to do that is impressive and valuable. To my knowledge, a vet trained to use ether is under no compulsion to try isoflurane; the benefits are significant, though, and that's only one example. Finding a vet who stays current means you have to know yourself what's current, but, honestly, you can ask the vet that yourself, and a good one will answer candidly. Experience is a strong aspect of a vet's knowledge, and I personally prefer experience over current education, but both is what you're looking for.

Compassionate. Of course, what else? But there are vets out there who don't have some fundamental respect for animals, or at least for cats. Don't let a vet off the hook. I recall one vet, who, annoyed with me because I insisted on remaining with my critter, handled her roughly in his examination, indifferent to her cries and distress. Perhaps it wasn't out of spite; he was, at least, clinically thorough. It annoyed me, though. I asked him to be careful. When he flipped her suddenly on her side, and her chest slapped the stainless steel table hard, I told him to stand away from her. I had to repeat myself, and I was furious; I couldn't hit him because he still had his hands on my cat. I might have otherwise. He figured that out, apparently, and moved to the other side of the room as I comforted my critter. "Not with my cat," I said. "You don't do that with my cat." I was too frigging furious to speak coherently, almost, but he got the picture, and left without a word. I can see why he preferred treating animals without owners present. He didn't like animals.

Compassionate, anyway. By that, I don't mean the fussing and baby talk. You get that from the receptionist and the techs. It's what they're paid to do. Gentleness and respect is more like it, and though you may not see it clearly in a vet with compassion, you certainly will know its absence in a vet who has none.

Professionalism is something else again. Objectivity is perhaps its largest aspect, the ability of a vet to set aside a cat's misery and my voluble anxiety for long enough to explore, with clear sight, the cause and extent of a problem. One vet looked over an old stray who'd come to us (we named her Tersh, and she had a rather vague malaise) She examined Tersh, asked several questions of us, considered for half a moment, then left the exam room and returned with a small bottle. "She has hyperthyroidism. Tapazole, twice a day. We'll do a blood test to confirm it, but I'm sure that's it." It was. Tersh gained two pounds in six weeks and regained her vitality. It had taken the vet all of three minutes. Of course, there was the seven years of schooling, the residency, her twelve years in practice... I was going to include something like responsiveness in the above list, and certainly I like a vet who's willing to discuss stuff in detail. But I've met several vets who, though really very good with animals, were reticent with people. One was shy almost to the point of hostility, though she was most impressive treating a patch of pressure necrosis in one of my critters which had been, ironically, caused by another vet. Chatty, informative vets are my preference, anyway, but some vets like their charges better than they like people, and there are times I do too.

My impulse in posting this advice is a bit defensive. Those who read my posts in the cat groups know I'm rather quick and aggressive to question peculiar and perhaps nonsensical diagnoses from vets. It isn't that I don't trust vets; I simply don't trust all vets, and some of them really should take up insurance sales. Thus, this ramble about vets.

The conclusion is this, really. The health and well-being of your critter doesn't end with your vet. It ends with you. Choose a good vet and participate in your cat's well-being, and your lovin critter will be with you a very long time.

This article is Copyright © Paul F. Hoff, and printed with permission of the author.
March 29, 2000