My Take Tuesday: Why We Keep Showing Up

Some days, I pull into the clinic parking lot and just sit there for a moment. Engine off. Hands on the steering wheel. Staring ahead at a building I know like the back of my hand. There are mornings I’m already tired before I even step through the door.

Maybe it’s the phone call from a grieving client that still echoes in my head.

Maybe it’s the patient I lost last night despite doing everything right.

Maybe it’s just the wear and tear that comes from carrying too many stories in one pair of boots.

Veterinary medicine is a calling, but some days it feels more like a crucible.

We often work through lunches. We miss birthdays. We answer frantic messages at 10:42 p.m. about a dog who “just started acting funny.” We witness the last breath of beloved companions and hear the unspoken heartbreak of owners who blame themselves. We do it all with our hearts wide open—and sometimes, they break too.

So why do we keep showing up?

We show up because of the border collie who finally walks again after weeks of therapy.

Because of the kid who hugs their kitten a little tighter after we saved it from pneumonia.

Because of the couple who brings cookies to say thank you—six months after we held their hand through goodbye.

We show up because the work is hard—but holy.

Because there’s something sacred about stitching life back together with your own two hands.

Because there’s beauty in being the one who stays calm when the world feels like it’s unraveling.

Because sometimes, against all odds, we win.

We show up for the sunrise farm calls, the miracle calves, the unexpected recoveries, and the steady rhythm of purpose that pulses through this strange, beautiful life.

I once heard someone say that resilience isn’t about being tough—it’s about being tethered. To meaning. To community. To the deep-down belief that what you do matters.

And I believe that.

Even on the hard days—especially on the hard days—I remind myself of the MMA fighter who cried when his dog made it through surgery safely. Of the child who named his kitten after me. Of the quiet nod from a client who doesn’t say much but trusts me just the same.

That’s why I keep showing up.

Not because it’s easy. But because it’s worth it.

And that is My Take.

N. Isaac Bott, DVM