By the time Rachel Loppe, DVM, realized something had to change, the problem was no longer confined to the clinic. Even on days she made it home at a reasonable hour, she found she had nothing left to give, and the exhaustion followed her into the quieter parts of the day.
“I remember feeling like I couldn’t even do normal household chores,” Loppe says. “I couldn’t make dinner. I felt so mentally exhausted.”
At first, she tried to explain it away as a lack of motivation.
“I kept telling myself I was just being lazy,” she says.
But the feeling persisted, and when she brought it up with her therapist, the response reframed what she was experiencing.
“My therapist said, ‘It’s not that you’re lazy. Your nervous system is shot. You’re in burnout.’”
Even then, accepting that reality was difficult.
“When my therapist first suggested medical leave I thought, ‘Absolutely not, I can’t do that,’” Loppe says. “But about a month later, I realized she was right.”
Stepping away from practice gave Loppe the space to confront something many veterinarians eventually encounter: the realization that the way they are practicing may not be sustainable.
A Pivot to Veterinary Medicine
Long before she was navigating burnout, Loppe was trying to figure out what kind of career would fit her in the first place.
She entered university thinking law might be her calling, but early science courses began to change that perspective. She also realized that she couldn’t see herself sitting behind a desk all day. The shift in thinking eventually led her toward veterinary medicine.
“I was talking with a friend at university, and she mentioned offhand that she was trying to get into vet school,” Loppe says. “I thought about it, and realized I could actually see myself really liking that. So, I started volunteering in clinics and working more with animals, and I was like, ‘Yep, this is what I want to do.’”
This set Loppe on a new trajectory.
But reaching veterinary school — and eventually building her own practice — would require persistence, resilience and a willingness to rethink what a sustainable veterinary career can look like.
Admissions Challenges
The next step proved to be one of the first major tests of that persistence. Veterinary school admissions are highly competitive, and at the time Loppe was applying, the number of available seats for applicants from British Columbia was limited and she was unable to secure an interview.
Rather than abandoning the goal after an initial setback, she felt strongly enough and chose to adapt. She relocated to Alberta, where she worked while establishing residency and prepared to apply to the University of Calgary, which had much larger class sizes.
“I worked for a year, applied, didn’t get in, kept working, applied the second year, and finally got in,” Loppe says.
Although the delay was frustrating at the time, Loppe now sees those years as an important part of her professional development.
“Looking back now, I would never trade those two years before vet school,” she said. “Working and living on my own helped me feel a little more grounded when I started the program.”
That grounding proved valuable once veterinary school began. Having already spent time working and living independently, Loppe entered the program with a clearer sense of purpose and a stronger understanding of why she wanted to pursue the profession.
Finding Her Niche
While Loppe entered veterinary school with a broad interest in animal health, exposure to cattle work gradually shaped the direction her career would take.
Large animal medicine appealed to her for several reasons. The work was hands-on and varied, often requiring quick thinking in unpredictable situations. It also offered opportunities to work closely with producers and contribute directly to the health and productivity of their herds.
By the time Loppe graduated from veterinary school, she knew cattle practice would play a central role in her career.
What Early Career Veterinary Practice Really Looks Like
Like many new graduates entering practice, Loppe quickly discovered the transition from veterinary school to the field can be abrupt. Responsibility arrives quickly, and the learning curve can be steep.
“Looking back, I have a lot of respect for that environment, but I definitely got thrown into it” she says of her early work experience. “I was a new grad and on call within the first couple of weeks. There was another veterinarian as backup, but a lot of the time I was figuring things out on my own.”
Situations like that are not uncommon for veterinarians entering rural or mixed animal practice, where staffing limitations can require new graduates to take on significant responsibility early in their careers. While the experience can be stressful, it can also accelerate professional growth.
“When you’re in that situation, sometimes you haven’t done something before by yourself,” Loppe says. “But you know the basic principles. You know tissue handling, you know the textbook information and you figure it out.”
Those early months forced her to rely heavily on the foundational skills she had developed during training.
Over time, however, the demands of practice began to accumulate.
The Signs of Veterinary Burnout
For a while, the workload felt manageable. Then it didn’t. The demands of practice began to show up outside of work, gradually affecting Loppe’s ability to recharge.
“Work was just taking all the energy from me,” she says. “Even if I got home at a reasonable time, I couldn’t do anything else.”
What she was experiencing was not a lack of motivation, but a signal that something needed to change. Burnout developed gradually, building until it became impossible to ignore, and stepping away from practice ultimately gave her the opportunity to reassess both her workload and her direction.
A Veterinary Practice That Supports Long-Term Career Sustainability
The time away from practice gave Loppe the opportunity to figure out what she wanted from veterinary medicine. Rather than leaving the profession entirely, she began thinking about how she could shape a work environment that aligned with the parts of the job she valued most.
Starting her own practice offered the chance to do exactly that. Practice ownership allowed Loppe to build a professional environment that reflected her priorities while continuing to focus on the cattle work she enjoyed.
But the confidence to take that step did not appear overnight. Instead, it grew from the experiences she accumulated earlier in her career. Reflecting on those years, Loppe says they ultimately helped her trust her own abilities as a veterinarian.
“It did give me a lot of confidence in myself,” she says. “I realized I was able to do these things, even when I hadn’t done them before. You know the basic principles, and you figure it out.”
For Loppe, starting her own practice became a way to reconnect with the aspects of veterinary medicine that first drew her to the profession: hands-on work, problem solving and meaningful relationships with the producers and animals she serves.
Lessons for Veterinarians: Find a Sustainable Path in the Profession
Loppe’s journey reflects a reality many veterinarians encounter during their careers. The path into the profession is often clear and well defined, but the path through it can be far less predictable. From navigating competitive admissions to managing the realities of early practice, her career was shaped by persistence, with burnout ultimately serving as a turning point rather than an endpoint.
Stepping away from practice gave Loppe the space to determine what she needed from her career and how she wanted to practice medicine moving forward. Instead of leaving the profession entirely, she chose to reshape her role within it.
Support from the individuals in her life also played an important role in that process. As Loppe reflects on that period, she emphasizes the importance of surrounding herself with a strong community.
“It really helps having a support system,” she said. “Even one or two people makes a big difference.”
Today, her practice reflects the lessons learned along the way. The road that led there was not linear, but it reinforced something many veterinarians eventually discover: finding a place in the profession sometimes means redefining what success looks like.
For Loppe, that process ultimately led to the place she had been searching for all along — a veterinary practice built to support both the animals she treats and the veterinarian behind the work.
