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“Josh, are you sure you don’t want to get a PhD?” For the first maybe five years after I graduated from vet school my mom repeated this mantra. She evidently was in a state of disbelief and shock all this time that her son would be ministering to the needs of dogs and cats rather than doing research in a laboratory. After all, she had a masters in Histology and had grown up pet-less. And for sure, there was little in my early years to indicate that I was going to grow up to be a small animal doctor. The only “pet” I ever had was a turtle found in the street and kept for a few months in a back yard pen until it escaped and went back to the wild. My dad, who was the PhD in the family (ichthyologist, NY Aquarium and American Museum of Natural History) and had been the one to suggest vet school in the first place, remained reticent, I’m sure secretly pleased that once again there were pets in an Atz household. Eventually, though, even Mom could be caught lovin’ on a dog or cat.
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