My Honest Take on “Average Veterinary Student Debt” (From a Vet Who’s Paying It)

I’m Kayla, a small animal vet who works long days, loves dentals, and drinks too much clinic coffee. This is my real review of living with “average” vet student debt. Spoiler: it’s heavy, but it’s not the end of the story. If you want another vet’s perspective on balancing those same numbers, check out this detailed walk-through of average veterinary student debt.

My number, straight up

I graduated in 2018 with $214,000 in loans. Most of it was Grad PLUS at about 6.6%. My first job paid $84,000. I was proud. I was scared.

For broader context, the American Veterinary Medical Association’s 2024 report pegged the mean debt for new veterinary graduates at $168,979 overall—and $202,647 for those who carried loans.

The standard 10-year plan wanted more than $2,000 a month. That was not happening. So I picked an income-driven plan (it’s called SAVE now). My first payment was about $430 a month as a single person. That number moved with my income each year.

You know what helped? Under SAVE, unpaid interest didn’t stack up and make my balance grow. That kept me from feeling like I was running on a treadmill.

How it actually felt month to month

Real talk. My budget that first year looked like this:

  • Rent with a roommate: $1,200 (my half)
  • Loans (SAVE): ~$430
  • Car: $280
  • Insurance: $110
  • Groceries: $250
  • Dog food (for my lab, Toby): $45
  • Gas and tolls: $120
  • Scrubs, clogs, random vet stuff: $60
  • “Sanity” money (coffee, a movie, a plant I will forget to water): $60

I packed lunch. I learned to love beans. I said no to two weddings. That stung. I also worked one relief shift a month at an ER for extra cash. That helped.

I felt both proud and stuck. Funny how both can live in your chest at once.

Friends with more, friends with less (real examples)

  • Luis, ER vet: He finished with $320,000. He made about $95,000 and used SAVE too. He also got into the USDA Veterinary Medicine Loan Repayment Program. That paid him $25,000 a year for three years, just for serving in a rural shortage area. He said it wasn’t easy, but it cut his balance fast.

  • Mia, shelter vet: She had about $190,000. She works at a 501(c)(3) clinic and is on PSLF (Public Service Loan Forgiveness). She makes income-based payments for 10 years, and the rest should get forgiven. She keeps every pay stub and every form. She also keeps snacks in her scrub pocket. I trust people with pocket snacks.

  • Priya, GP vet: She had $150,000. After two years, she refinanced with a private lender at 4.3% and set a 10-year plan. Lower rate, higher monthly bill. She lost federal safety nets, though. Then her clinic sold, and her hours dropped. That was a scary month.

  • Jess, equine vet: She had $0. Yep. In-state tuition, family help, and three big scholarships. Same job. Very different start.

Average? Sure. But our paths were not average at all.

The mistakes I made (and fixed)

  • I deferred my loans during my rotating internship. My pay was $34,000. Interest piled up and then capitalized. That added about $13,000 to my balance in one year. Ouch. If I could redo it, I’d use income-driven and pay even $50 to keep interest from snowballing.

  • I put a surprise car repair on a credit card. I didn’t have an emergency fund yet. The fee and interest made me mad at myself. After that, I saved $1,000 fast, then worked up to three months of bills.

  • I tried to be “perfect.” That failed. So I used a simple envelope system for food, gas, fun. Boring. Effective.

What actually helped

  • SAVE plan: Payment fit my paycheck. Interest didn’t grow. That alone kept me in the game.

  • One extra $100: I sent an extra $100 to principal when months were good. Tiny, but it moved the needle. Wins stack.

  • Side work: One ER shift a month. Also vaccine clinics on some Saturdays. My feet hated it. My savings didn’t.

  • Talking about it: Shame makes money worse. I told my partner and two vet friends. We made noodle bowls and swapped loan hacks.

  • Taxes: The student loan interest deduction (up to $2,500) shaved my tax bill some years. Not huge, but hey, gas money.

  • Boundaries at work: Saying no to that sixth add-on spay when I was shaking from hunger. It saved my mood and, honestly, my spending later.

  • Low-pressure social life: Long shifts meant I lacked time (and budget) for elaborate date nights, yet I still craved human connection. I tried PlanCul—a discreet, casual dating platform that lets busy professionals meet like-minded people on their own schedule without pricey dinners or endless swiping.

  • If you’re in the west of Ireland and want an efficient, one-evening way to meet new people that fits around clinic shifts, look into a local speed dating night in Ennis—you’ll be able to see upcoming events, reserve a spot in minutes, and meet several potential matches face-to-face without the endless texting loop.

  • Bigger picture perspective: For an eye-opening look at how collective action is pushing for systemic fixes like debt cancellation, check out Occupy Student Debt.

The hard parts no one puts on the brochure

  • I delayed buying a home. Not because the math was awful, but because I was tired. Paperwork makes me wilt after a 12-hour shift with two dentals and a blocked tom.

  • I worried about kids. How do you plan daycare with loans and on-call weekends? We decided to try later, and we’re still okay with that.

  • I compared myself. My friend in tech paid off her loans in three years and went to Portugal. I learned to be happy for her and still be okay with my beans at home.

If you’re still in school (or about to go)

And if you're wrestling with the question of where the tipping point lies between “manageable” and “overwhelming” debt, don’t miss this straight-shooting take on how much student debt is too much.

  • Choose in-state if you can. That’s not small. It’s the ballgame.
  • Apply for every scholarship. AVMA, state VMAs, local groups, corporate ones. I won two small ones that paid for books and boards (for a first-hand review of a lesser-known option, read one vet’s experience with the Charles Cheesmans Student Debt Reduction Scholarship).
  • Keep a cheap life: roommates, used car, used textbooks, free clinics for skills.
  • Learn the loan terms now. Subsidized vs. unsubsidized. Interest rate. Capitalization. Boring words that matter a lot.
  • Think about your first job path. Nonprofit? Rural? Shelter? Teaching hospital? Some routes pair well with PSLF or loan repayment programs.

A quick note on numbers (because numbers calm the brain)

  • On SAVE, my payment around $85,000 income was about $430 a month. That was 10% of my “extra” income after a set amount for basic needs.
  • A year of internship deferment added around $13,000 to my balance. That was one of my costliest choices.
  • One relief shift a month, at $60–$80 an hour, brought in $500–$800 before taxes. That covered my loan payment most months.

Not perfect math. Real math.

Would I do it again?

Yes. And also… some days I’d say no. Let me explain.

I love being there when a dog with bloat stands again. I love telling a kid their cat’s kidney values look better. The work feels like a calling. The debt feels like a weight you have to train with.

So I’d do it again—with a stricter school choice, more scholarships, and income-driven from day one.

My verdict (since this is a review)

  • “Average vet student debt” as a life add-on: 2 out of 5 stars. Heavy. Sticky. Teaches you grit, but wow, it takes a bite.
  • Being a vet: 5 out of 5 stars on a good day, 3 on a rough one, but the trend is up.

You can carry both truths.