Ever found yourself cringing at your vet’s latest social blunder? You’re not alone.
Working in a small veterinary practice can feel like being part of a tight-knit family—for better or worse. And just like in any family, sometimes you find yourself dealing with that one relative who just doesn’t quite grasp social cues. Except in this case, it’s your boss, and you can’t just avoid them at Thanksgiving.
The Reality of Small Practice Dynamics
Picture this: You’re in a practice with just three techs, maybe an occasional relief tech dropping by, and one veterinarian who’s brilliant with animals but… well, let’s just say their people skills could use some work. Sound familiar?
The challenge becomes even more pronounced in small practices where there’s nowhere to hide. You can’t just transfer to another department or work different shifts. You’re all in it together, day in and day out, sharing the same cramped treatment area and break room microwave that nobody ever cleans.
Why Does This Happen So Often?
Here’s the thing—many veterinarians are drawn to the profession because they genuinely prefer animals to people. (Can we blame them? Dogs never argue about their bills.) They’ve spent years buried in textbooks learning about kidney values and cardiac physiology, not necessarily mastering the art of reading the room.
Add to that the stress of running a practice, dealing with difficult cases, and the general burnout that plagues our profession, and you’ve got a recipe for social awkwardness that would make even the most patient tech want to hide in the supply closet.
Real Talk: Strategies That Actually Work
1. The Direct (But Diplomatic) Approach
Sometimes, believe it or not, they genuinely don’t realize they’re being socially tone-deaf. I once worked with a vet who would make the most inappropriate jokes during euthanasias—not out of malice, but because humor was his stress response. A gentle, private conversation about how it affected both staff and clients was all it took.
Try something like: “Hey, Dr. Smith, can I share something with you? I noticed during Mrs. Johnson’s appointment yesterday…” Keep it specific, factual, and focused on the impact rather than making it personal.
2. The Buffer System
In our practice, we developed what we called the “buddy system.” If Dr. Awkward was about to enter a particularly sensitive situation, one of us would brief them beforehand. “Just a heads up, the Johnsons are really emotional today about Fluffy’s diagnosis. Maybe keep it clinical and brief?”
3. Lead by Example
Sometimes the best teaching happens through modeling. When your vet fumbles a social interaction, smoothly step in and demonstrate the appropriate response. They might not consciously realize what you’re doing, but over time, they may start to pick up on the patterns.
4. Create Structure Where There Is None
Socially clueless people often do better with clear guidelines. Consider suggesting:
Team meetings with structured agendas
Written protocols for client communication
Regular feedback sessions (both ways!)
5. Pick Your Battles
Look, if they’re wearing socks with sandals, maybe let that one slide. But if they’re making clients uncomfortable or creating a hostile work environment? That’s when you need to speak up.
When It’s More Than Just Awkwardness
Let’s be real for a moment. There’s a difference between social cluelessness and being a jerk. If your vet is:
Consistently disrespectful
Creating a hostile work environment
Refusing to acknowledge the impact of their behavior
Then you’re dealing with a different beast entirely, and it might be time to consider whether this is the right practice for you.
The Power of Perspective
I’ve been in this field for over a decade, and I’ve learned that sometimes our socially challenged vets are also our most dedicated, caring practitioners. They might not know how to give a compliment without making it weird, but they’ll stay three hours past closing to save a patient.
One vet I worked with—bless his heart—once told a grieving owner that their deceased cat “looked really dead.” (I know, I KNOW.) But this same vet also personally called every single surgical patient’s owner the next day to check in, remembered every pet’s name, and never once made us feel stupid for asking questions.
Building Bridges, Not Walls
The veterinary field is small, and burning bridges rarely serves anyone well. Instead of letting frustration build, try to:
Focus on shared goals (healthy pets, happy clients)
Celebrate the wins, even small ones
Remember that change takes time
Build alliances with your fellow techs for support
A Final Thought
Working with a socially clueless vet can test your patience like nothing else. But remember, we’re all human (even if some of us seem to communicate better with the four-legged variety). With patience, clear communication, and maybe a healthy dose of humor, you can navigate these choppy social waters.
And if all else fails? Well, there’s always the supply closet. Just make sure to leave room for the rest of us.
What’s your experience dealing with social challenges in the veterinary workplace? Every practice has its stories—the good, the bad, and the “did that really just happen?” moments that keep us coming back (or running for the hills).