Learning to be a vet – the hidden price

If you ask most vet students why they chose to study veterinary medicine, you’ll hear the same reasons: a love of animals, a passion for science and a desire to make a difference. What no one really talks about is the financial reality behind that dream.

I’m now in my final year of vet school, and while I wouldn’t choose another career path, I can’t ignore how much the system feels designed for the financially secure: the student with a car, rural experience and parents who can help cover the costs.

I’m fortunate to have that support, and without it, my journey would have looked very different. Even so, I’ve learned that the maximum loan doesn’t really let you live; it lets you survive. Constantly budgeting, fearing overdrafts and missing out on opportunities isn’t thriving. Vet school is long, demanding and expensive. The financial strain can quietly determine who gets into the profession and who stays in it. That’s why I’ve worked throughout my five years – to support myself and make the most of student life.

Now, I want to talk honestly about the financial realities of studying veterinary medicine; not to discourage anyone, but to prepare future students, share what’s helped me, and push for a more inclusive and sustainable profession for all.

Unspoken financial barriers

Not enough time for paid work

When I applied, one of the biggest shocks wasn’t the workload (I expected long hours and tough exams), it was how little time there was to actually earn money.

Between lectures, practical classes, studying and placements, vet school quickly becomes more than a full-time job.

But the real challenge I faced: consistency. Most employers want reliable regular staff to cover set shifts, but as a vet student your availability changes week to week, day to day.

One week you might have a free afternoon; the next, you’re on placement from dawn to dusk, and this could be hundreds of miles away from university.

It makes you far less employable in traditional part-time roles, even if you’re willing and capable. For many students, this creates a frustrating cycle – needing money, but having no predictable time to earn it.

EMS: amazing experience, poorly communicated cost

We complete 38 weeks of EMS (12 pre-clinical, 26 clinical), all in our holidays. Sounds like great experience when you’re bright eyed and writing your personal statement, until you realise:

• It’s usually unpaid.
• You often need accommodation.
• You might need to travel across the country.

Some placements – especially clinical rotations – require your own equipment (scrubs, waterproofs, scissors, thermometer… the list grows).

If you’re lucky, practices offer accommodation (or a farm caravan with or without heating), sometimes with a surcharge. If not, hello AirBnB debt.

You basically need a car

Rural practices, farm placements, equine rotations: these aren’t optional, they’re part of the degree, and public transport rarely cuts it (surprise – buses don’t usually run to the middle of nowhere).

Being a car-less vet student is absolutely doable, but significantly harder (especially in clinical years). Fuel, insurance, maintenance – it adds up fast.

Five-year course and higher living costs

Every student deals with rent, bills and food, plus the occasional (okay, frequent) night out expenses. But most students finish after three years; we don’t. And many vet students are also post-grads who are self-funding their fees.

Five years of student living equals five years of financial pressure and loan anxiety.

Falling through the financial support gap

Hardship grants are available, but what about students who don’t qualify as “deprived” yet don’t have a bank of mum and dad, either? This is incredibly common in vet school. The grey-zone student – the financially stressed but unsupported student – is the one we so often forget.

Why this matters

Finance isn’t just numbers – it affects:

• Diversity and representation in the profession.
• Student mental health and sense of belonging.
• Future workforce inclusivity.
• Client relationships (yes, socioeconomic awareness matters in practice).
• Student performance and confidence.

If we’re serious about a profession that reflects society, we have to acknowledge financial barriers and advocate for change.

How to survive vet school finances: real tips

Part-time work is possible (with strategy)

I’ve worked in hospitality (Wetherspoons; various catering jobs), retail (Boots), online freelance roles (marketing executive at Practice Made Purrfect), and even for my university as a careers coach.

Golden rule

Flexibility is everything. Employers must understand vet school always comes first and your schedule changes weekly.

Use flexible work platforms

Apps like Indeed Flex help you pick shifts around lectures and EMS.

Seasonal and chunk work

Short bursts during breaks are game changers:

• Shows and festivals (I worked Paris Air Show and Great Yorkshire Show).
• Christmas retail temp roles.
• Summer catering/event work.

Work hard, get paid, move on.

Paid EMS exists

Especially pre-clinical:

• Lambing placements.
• Kennels and catteries.
• Dairy/milking jobs.
• Petting farms.

Some pay better than others: I once earned £50 for two weeks of lambing, while friends earned hundreds, so shop around.

Apply for EMS bursaries

Bursaries can be a total lifesaver during clinical years. Look for:

• Vets4Pets internships.
• IVC Evidensia schemes.
• University-funded bursaries (for example, Liverpool Interns).

Have a placement away from home and can’t crash with friends or family? Try using VetBeds on Facebook for free accommodation.

Get hyper organised

Balancing vet school, jobs, EMS and a social life is no joke. My survival tools:

Google Calendar (colour-coded, naturally).

A yearly planner.

Block out EMS, work slots, rest time.

Say “no” sometimes – burnout helps no one.

Final thoughts

The journey to becoming a vet isn’t just intellectually and emotionally demanding, it’s financially draining, and the burden isn’t shared equally. A more equitable future for veterinary medicine means acknowledging this, talking about it openly and building better support systems. If you’re a prospective vet student: you can do this, just go in prepared. To current students struggling: you’re not alone and you’re not failing, the system is tough. To the profession: if you’re someone who can advocate for change in veterinary education, let’s push for better. Our future colleagues deserve it.

• This article appeared in Vet Times (28 April 2026), Volume 56, Issue 17, Pages 16-18