It is especially good timing, as those of you in colder climes will no doubt attest, what with the reduced demand for veterinary services during wintery weather. As most of you reading this well understand, access to the repeat revenue derived from a series of well-pup visits can make or break a small practice's entire year—especially should it coincide with the winter's less heated patient traffic pattern.

Purebred-based practices

But it is not just in wintertime, of course. Veterinary medicine benefits tremendously from the purebred pet trade throughout the year. Not only does the very concept of a purebred pet serve as inducement for "investment" in an animal companion—one that requires maintenance and repair—but any purebred's inherent predisposition to pathology fuels much of the demand for our services.

As one of our path professors used to say, "If you want to start a successful practice, try befriending some boxer and Shar-pei breeders." Although I date myself with this reference to currently less fashionable breeds (today we might rely more on our über allergy-prone doodles and everything-prone Frenchies), the core truth remains: We rely on our purebreds for profitability.

Think about it: If every single purebred patient in your practice was suddenly replaced with a third-generation mixed-breed of otherwise identical signalment, how do you think your income would be affected? Can you even hazard a guess? It is hard to say, but I am pretty sure you would agree it would not be great for your bottom line.

An easier way would compare your existing annual revenue to what you would have earned were all your patients mixed breed dogs and generic domestic cats. The trouble with this latter method, however, is twofold:

1. As with comparing the revenue derived from dogs to what we earn from cats, we know we are not always dealing with the same kind of clients. Are they equally willing to spend, regardless of breed type? Are we always willing to offer equivalent services?

2. Even more troublesome is the issue of purebred genetic influence. When is a mix still suffering from a genetically derived disease our patient would not have were it not for the purebred pet industry?

Putting a precise dollar value on the economic impact of purebreds on our profession may be impossible, but I'm pretty sure we can all agree it is sizable. There is no doubt –– none at all –– that our industry's economy would be markedly different without the influence of genetic pathology derived from humanity's role in canine reproduction.

Back to the real world…sort of

As I write this I'm on Hawaii spending Thanksgiving with our dearest chosen family members. While it is hard not to feel grateful in this environment, I have just received some distressing news from back home: a puppy shop has just declared its intentions to lease a retail space just a few shops down from ours. We have been told it's a "high-end" puppy store. "It'll be good for business," says the landlord, and it may well be.

Self-confessed NIMBY that I am, though, I'm loath to live next door to any kind of puppy store, much less one that makes its entrance just in time for the holiday gifting. While the lease is a year long, it is unlikely to exist come January, if our local history of similar shops is any guide.

Their typically fleeting presence underscores the lack of accountability inherent to the standard December-launched puppy shop business model: Sell 'em fast and flee the country. That is how it works here in Miami. Pet lemon laws mean nothing to these people since they are gone before the parvo kicks in on the sickliest batch they have saved for the Christmas Eve stragglers.

Yeah…it is that bad. That is what got me hopped up enough to start writing while still on vacation (that, along with my editor's urgent ask). But when I got to writing I knew my landlord had a point. Purebreds are good for business. Hence, why I call myself a NIMBY ("not in my back yard"), a term reserved for those of us likely to enjoy the proceeds (financial or otherwise) of an industry they are unwilling to live near, look at, or otherwise examine too closely.

The closer you look

It is no stretch to assume a puppy store is something most veterinarians tend to abhor. They are the filthy fingers to the unwashed hands of the commercial breeding enterprise we collectively deride as puppy mills. Yet we blithely enjoy its proceeds and tend not to dwell overmuch on our role in supporting this status quo.

The uncomfortable truth is these commercial breeders keep the purebred pet industry alive and kicking. It's why the American Kennel Club (AKC) has little to say on animal welfare when signing off on the paperwork that allows breeding operations to charge their premium. Without commercial breeder fees the AKC would not survive (not in its current incarnation) –– just as we would see our veterinary practices suffer were they to suddenly disappear.

Hands off the sausage-making

It is not surprising our profession has historically assumed a laissez-faire stance on commercial pet breeding. We have made sure the United States Department of Agriculture regulates them and supported laws to improve animal welfare, but we have remained conspicuously silent, otherwise. To be sure, it is because we profit handsomely from the sausage they deliver, but also because regulating any commercial breeding operation sets precedent for how we regulate the entire animal agriculture industry; and we cannot have that, either.

All of which provides a perfect storm for a purebred industry we would rather not ponder too deeply. We may wring our hands over Cavalier breeders' unwillingness to cross-breed to relieve their cardiac disease crisis (in the name of "history" and "purity") and decry the prevalence of every poorly bred Frenchie than crosses our exam tables (is there any other kind?), but think on the alternative:

A veterinary profession that actively opposes the influence of purebred genetics would be undermining its current business practices. It means there might be fewer of us, most of us would probably be making less, and we'd have to change quite a lot about how we structure our businesses.

Now, I'm not saying I'm grateful for purebred pet diseases or a pop-up puppy shop insinuating itself next door, but I'm equally unwilling to overlook our role and I have to wonder how we might evolve into a profession that cannot live without its addiction to purebred pathology and the marketing savvy of an industry that undeniably puts food on our tables this holiday season.

Patty Khuly, VMD, MBA, owns a small animal practice in Miami and is available at drpattykhuly.com. Columnists' opinions do not necessarily reflect those of VPN Plus+.