I graduated in 2004. Took the board exam the same year—and passed. That was supposed to be the beginning of my story.
But what I didn’t know then was that it would also be the continuation of someone else’s—those who came before me.
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My first job was at my aunt’s clinic—St. Joseph Veterinary Clinic in BF Homes, Parañaque. I was fresh out of vet school, full of theories, full of hope, and honestly, full of questions I was too shy to ask.
I had classmates, of course. Friends who were finding their way, just like me.
But I quietly chose to spend more time in the company of senior vets. Not because I didn’t love my peers—but because I longed for something deeper than just catching up. I wanted wisdom. The kind you don’t read in books. The kind passed down through years of listening, observing, and learning the hard way.
Doc Perlita Ordona—her years in practice were as old as I was. But never once did she make me feel small. Her hands knew what mine didn’t. Her eyes saw what mine couldn’t. And her heart, that calm and steady heart, taught me what vet school never could: how to be a vet without losing your soul.
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They mentored me not through PowerPoint slides or formal lectures—but through life. Through late-night consults, through laughter after a long day, through silent nods that said, “You did okay.”
There was no pride, no need to impress, no silent competition. Just real people, healing animals, and holding space for each other.
When I was with them, I felt safe. I didn’t have to pretend. I didn’t have to prove anything. I was allowed to grow slowly, quietly, and sincerely. And that was enough.
Looking back, I’m deeply grateful I chose them. Because some of the best things I learned in this profession weren’t about medicine—they were about humility. About grace. About doing your work quietly and letting the animals speak for your impact.
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To every young vet who feels overwhelmed, lost, or unsure: seek out those quiet giants. They won’t always have fancy titles or thousands of followers, but they carry something even more powerful—heart.
And to the mentors who never knew they were mentoring—thank you. You may have seen me as just a rookie, but I saw you as a lighthouse.
You didn’t just shape my career.
You shaped the kind of human I wanted to be.
Sharing this helps others understand what it really means to be a vet. Like and follow if you’re with us.
Dr. Geoff Carullo is a Fellow and the current President of the Philippine College of Canine Practitioners.
