In Wyoming, cattle outnumber people two to one, and plenty of other furry pets roam around. But there are fewer and fewer veterinarians to care for these critters. That puts pets and livestock at risk of disease, which can become a food safety issue.
The federal government says vets in the rural U.S. are aging out, and there’s not many young people who want to – or can afford to – take over.
But new funding opportunities at the federal and state level could help.
Wyoming Public Radio visited a vet clinic in the tiny ranch town of Big Piney, where the issue is on full display.
“Big Piney Zoo”
Inside Dr. Bob Beiermann’s veterinary clinic lobby, Patsy Cline plays from an old radio. A secretary answers the phone. Cats meow, a lady holds an old chihuahua and a horse trailer pulls up outside.
“You didn't know Big Piney had a zoo?” Beiermann chuckled.
He broke from the interview to advise the owner of Tip, the cat.
“I don't want to see her any heavier,” he said. “If we can bring her, trim you back a little bit.”
Beiermann is tall with a friendly mustache, a real James Herriot, ‘All Creatures Great and Small’ type.
He’s the only brick and mortar clinic in a 40-mile radius. People drive two hours to see him, and sometimes vice versa – especially now, during calving season.
“I got two C-sections under my belt so far this year,” he said. “One was in the middle of the night.”
Beiermann also checks for pregnancy and vaccinates cattle, a critical step for the meat we eat so we don’t get sick.
“There's been at least three veterinarians involved in that process to get to your plate,” he said.
A lot of work. Little pay.
Beiermann’s been on call 24/7 for the majority of his life. He’s 71 years old and trying to retire.
“The practice is listed. Had a couple nibbles, but it's got to be the right person who wants to come to this,” he said of his mom-and-pop clinic.
Fewer than 10% of veterinarians in the U.S. are doing mixed animal practice. Even fewer are in tiny towns like Big Piney.
It’s partly because of the remote lifestyle. Big Piney is 100 miles from a Walmart, and say you want a date night?
“Well, we only have one, no, we have two sit down restaurants now,” Beiermann said.
But also, it’s not a lot of pay. Starting salaries in rural areas can be around half what a corporately owned veterinarian clinic in a big city can offer. That matters when the average vet school debt is nearly $200,000.
Plus, being a rural vet is a lot of hours. Just ask Beiermann’s wife, Janet.
“Always Christmas. Almost every single holiday, we end up taking some calls,” she said.
Beiermann and Janet started the business in 1990. She taught herself how to keep the books.
“We couldn't find a place, and so we had the vet clinic in the basement of our teeny, tiny house,” Janet said.
All while raising two kids.
“I'd be like, trying to make a birthday cake, and there'd be somebody standing there with their dog to be seen,” Janet chuckled.
They lived paycheck to paycheck for a long time. Eventually, they built the clinic up to what it is today, a thriving business that isn’t in their basement and has loyal clientele from Wyoming’s top agricultural commodity.
“A lot of people say, ‘How do you make a living in a town of 1,000 people?’ Well, that's because we have several thousand cows here, too,” Janet said.
Solutions will take time
Taking on this type of all-consuming rural business is a passion for them. A way of life. Something Beiermann’s intern, Annika St. George realized she shared while living in Seattle.
“I was in the big city, and it was just so overwhelming. And I realized that I wanted to be in a rural area, working with animals,” she said in between animal patients.
St. George starts vet school this summer. She’s willing to take a pay cut to one day practice in a small town. But that’s only one piece of the puzzle.
“If I work in these rural areas, will I be able to pay out the debt that I'm going to have to incur from school?” she said.
To make it work, St. George is betting on a federal program that trades student loan repayment for rural veterinary work. Wyoming also just approved funding for a similar program that’ll sponsor four students.
Beiermann is hoping it’ll funnel graduates his way.
“But it takes four years of vet school, so it takes a while before those kids are out in the workforce,” he said.
So in the meantime?
“We got an appointment in here right now,” Beiermann said after a sip of coffee.
He will keep doing what he’s always done: vaccinating, calving, medicating and stitching up animals -- like his next patient, a paint horse.
“These kinds of horses get cancerous tumors,” he said as he sliced off a growth and put stitches in.
All stitched up, the horse slowly clip-clopped out of the treatment area to the horse trailer.
“There ya go, sis,” Beiermann said to the mare.
And just like that, he’s off to the next critter.
