One of our senior large animal vets, Sunita has penned her thoughts on her first 20 years with VetSouth. Her words paint a colourful picture of her time in Southland. Here's to 20 more Sunni!
On the 15th of March it’s 20 years since I started working at VetSouth. These days working at the same place for that long is a milestone. I’m a definite hen’s tooth you might say.
I have had many hours to ponder life, driving around the countryside looking for pus in cow’s orifices, so I thought I’d pen a reflection of how I got to where I am today. From a little brown, half-Indian, half-Kiwi, Aussie city girl to now, almost a legitimate Southlander! It’s a bit of a read, but it’s not often you get to write a story about your life.
I was one of the lucky kids, at the age of five I knew exactly what I was going to do when I grew up. A ‘calling’. One day I just announced to my parents, “I’m going to be a vet”. Mum’s vision of a ballerina or concert pianist were very low down my list. I think my parents knew when I started cutting holes in my soft toy dog, Barney (that I got for my first birthday), then spent hours stitching him up and practicing bandaging techniques that there was no other job I’d be doing when I was older. Being banned from watching Lassie after school due to being annoyingly inconsolable afterwards was also an indication for them of my impending career choice.
I give credit to Dad for my passion for animals. He would take me to my local pet store religiously every Sunday afternoon, and nine out of ten times we’d return home with some critter. He’d also bring home wild animals he found on the road, of which there were plenty in Aussie, for me to either befriend or analyse to find the cause of death (hit-by-car was always at the top of my differential list) and then hold a funeral for. For those concerned, nothing alive was ever harmed and was released soon after show-and-tell at school. Dad bought me my first dog at the age of two. A pedigree Shetland Sheepdog named ‘Daniella’ – or ‘Dalla’, which is all I could pronounce at the time. My childhood was full of animals. So yeah, I think Dad was the instigator in all of this.
As I grew up, there continued to be nothing else I wanted to do. I sat watching and listening to my careers advisor in high school telling me I needed a Plan B, as getting into vet school was extremely difficult – virtually impossible. She rolled her eyes at me and I’m sure she was thinking, “Dimwit kid”, as I firmly told her there was no Plan B! She was right though, it was tough (bloody tough!), but luckily reverse psychology had always worked well on me.
After many years of studying and partying, I got out of Massey Uni with my important piece of paper. A shy, fledgling vet ready to save animals. I just needed some poor bugger to employ me.
I was dragged down to Southland, literally kicking and screaming, by Hayden (my now husband, also a vet). We had an agreement that we would not move to his homeplace of Southland after vet school. A place with no shopping mall and forever winter temperatures, a place where a puffer jacket was your second skin and sushi was unheard of. I also said there would be no cows to deal with. He listens a lot better now, back then he was a bit of a rogue.
Then, I found a poor bugger to employ me. And so my life in Winton began.
I was a mixed animal vet at the start, performing surgeries on all species. My days were filled with all sorts of exciting things, from dealing with manic cats, and plating fractured legs in dogs, to investigating why lambs were dying, and stitching up horses that had (yet again) gone through fences after a storm. I even once had to find out for an owner if their pet turtle was dead or just hibernating – trickier than you’d think! I would often bring back to the clinic (on the backseat of my Toyota) patients I’d found on-farm to operate on or try to save with intensive fluid therapy. It was what I called proper James Herriot vetting. Living my lifelong dream!
Cow numbers were increasing in Southland and sheds were getting built by the dozen. At each vet meeting we’d discuss who was building what and where. My cow skills were required on farm more and more, and I spent less time in the clinic and more time driving around the district with my fierce Jack Russell Terrier, Milly. I gained a few clients here and there, and got to know them and their families well, rewarding them at Christmas with homemade baking for being nice clients. I got good at reading the textbook and giving things a crack, pretending I had done it several times before. Don’t worry, no more pretending these days! I soon had a few more farms to look after, got busier and had to learn skills fast to keep up (but I also got a few more breakfast shouts, yum!).
Those of you that know me, know I like things tidy, organised, clean, and (most importantly) for things to run as efficiently and smoothly as possible. Whether this is just an innate drive, a by-product of having lots of stuff to get through in a day, or from being trained by a certain Scottish vet who would yell at me while learning to scan cows “What are you f'ing around at? Stick the probe in the f'ing cow Sunni, c’mon hurry up, we haven’t got all f'ing day!”. I’m not entirely sure, but I’m thinking more of the latter, which was probably a good thing. I was determined to earn my keep!
Fast forward 20 years later… here I am, still. I had a student ask me a while ago, “How do you keep doing the same thing year after year for so long?”. She almost made me sound a bit boring and dull. I have, however, asked myself this question several times, especially when the alarm goes off at 2.30am and I drive an hour to my job with my beloved sausage dog, Twiggy, on my lap. Then stand for hours on a platform or scoot along on a trolley, doing the same the next day, and the next.
I do love cows (and dogs and horses), but to be honest some of the things we do as cow vets can be pretty boring, monotonous and physical. There are always bad bits to any job though, and there are also lots of exciting and fun bits to being a cow vet. I’ll pick up a scalpel without being asked twice. Surgeries are still my favourite. The scenery we have down here is jaw-droppingly gorgeous and I often pull over and take a photo for my ‘gram (#lovelysunrise #ilovesouthland). Being cooped up in an office would drive me spare. I love a competition too, whether it’s beating my previous record of how many calves my team can disbud in an hour or seeing how fast I can scan a herd of cows. Making jobs fast, smooth and, of course, accurate is what I enjoy.
I have finally acclimatised to the weather too. Seven layers I find quite comfortable most days. A sushi shop in Winton and an undercover mall in Invercargill (although it could do with a few more shops, just saying) has been the icing on the cake!
When I think about it though, the main reason I have stayed in this job this long is people.
Some of my workmates are my best friends. When the *proverbial* hits the fan – in or out of work – the people I work with are there without question. Like a family. The jokes, grossness of the things we see and do, and the stories we share could be a bestseller book (maybe… if you were a vet).
And then there’s you: the reader, our client. Clients are who I aim to please – always have from day one. 'The client is always right' is my motto. I’ll try make anything work. Ensuring you’re happy and your animal is looked after is one of the biggest drivers for what I do. Sure, things don’t go to plan all the time, but if you are feeling annoyed or upset when they don’t, please know the feeling is ten times worse for us as your vet. Failure is one of our biggest downfalls. If vets were dogs, we’d be Labradors. Feed us, give us a pat once in a while, and we’ll be your best, loyal friend.
In my 20 years here, I have met so many wonderful, genuine people (of course, there’s also the odd nutter here and there to keep me on my toes). The vast majority of my daily dealings are with people I like, and enjoy working with and seeing on farm. Being part of the farming community and helping to improve animals’ lives makes me happy and fulfils me as a vet. That’s why I keep doing what I do. I’m proud of the input I’ve had (and the clinic has had) on farms and animals over the years. Cows and other animals are in a much better place now than they were when I first started. They continue to live happier and healthier lives, and I’m sure it’ll only continue to improve.
Did I dream as a five-year-old I’d be doing what I’m doing now, being a cow vet? Absolutely not. Would I change it? Nah, but maybe ask me again when I’m face down in mud in sub-zero temperatures calving your cow! I’ve learnt so much from the dairy clients I’ve been lucky enough to be the KeyVet for. I’m not sure how many more years are left in me getting up half a day before the sun rises, but I will continue to do so and provide a good service until my time is up – which is hopefully not for a while yet.
So, thank you to all my lovely colleagues, our loyal clients, and the poor bugger that employed me and has had to endure me for the last 20 years! I hope I’ve done alright. I would not have survived this long without you all.
A special thanks to Hayden for hauling me down here and helping fund my dog addiction, and to my awesome kids for putting up with their crazy mum!
Sunni x
