What’s Up Doc? Podcast Recap with Dr. Katie Gallagher

Veterinary medicine can be as emotionally heavy as it is rewarding, but what if humor and heart could lighten the load?

In this episode of What’s Up Doc?, Dr. Greg Bishop joins Katie to unpack how creativity, empathy, and honest communication can transform the way vet teams connect.

From navigating tough client conversations to redefining trust in the profession, this conversation is a breath of fresh air for anyone craving balance between compassion and business.

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Meet Dr. Greg Bishop

Dr. Greg Bishop is a small animal GP and emergency relief vet based in Portland, Oregon, with a focus on emergency and general practice. He teaches at a local vet tech college, writes a column on clinical communication for Veterinary Practice News, and is a sought-after speaker. He's also the creative mind behind Sasquatch Paw, an experimental storytelling and illustration platform.

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Highlights from the Episode

1. Finding Light Through Creativity

A few years ago, Dr. Greg Bishop reached a turning point. After years in the clinic, he realized he needed a new outlet and created Sasquatch Paw, an “experimental storytelling platform” featuring satirical articles and cartoons about veterinary life.

“I’ve always had this bubble of creative lava in me,” he shares. “I thought, why not use it to tell the real stories from the floor, honest, authentic, and representational.”

Through humour and storytelling, Sasquatch Paw has become a space for reflection, connection, and healing, proving that creativity can help process the emotional weight of veterinary medicine.

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2. Why Communication Is the Real Superpower in Vet Med

Dr. Bishop believes communication is the single greatest opportunity for growth in veterinary medicine. Miscommunication, he notes, is often at the root of client frustration and team conflict.

Drawing from his background in linguistics, he breaks down how veterinary professionals can act as translators, bridging the gap between medical jargon and everyday language. When vets communicate clearly and empathetically, trust flourishes, both in the exam room and within the team.

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3. Healing with Humor

Even in the most emotionally charged moments, Dr. Bishop finds ways to bring light and humanity into the room. During euthanasia appointments, he uses gentle humor to create connection and comfort.

He recalls making a small joke about a pet not needing to worry about missing a trip to Paris, an unexpected line that invited laughter through tears.

For Dr. Bishop, humor isn’t about minimizing grief. It’s about finding a shared moment of peace and reminding clients that compassion and laughter can coexist, even in goodbye.

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Final Thought: Turning Challenges into Connection

This episode reminds us that creativity and thoughtful communication can turn professional challenges into opportunities for growth. Even amid emotional and systemic pressures, finding your voice through humour, storytelling, or intentional communication can transform difficult moments into meaningful connection. By reframing obstacles as chances to grow and communicating with purpose, you can strengthen collaboration and practice more compassionate medicine.

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Resources Mentioned

Developing Communication Skills for Veterinary Practice by Jane R. Shaw & Jason B. Coe

Explore Dr. Greg Bishop’s creative work at ⁠www.sasquatchpaw.com ⁠

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About Dr. Katie Gallagher

Katie graduated from the Ontario Veterinary College at the University of Guelph in 2016. She currently practices at Grand River Veterinary hospital alongside her role as a co-founder and Veterinary Lead at Scribenote.

Follow Katie on LinkedIn

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Transcript:

Katie:

Hi everyone, this is Dr. Katie from Scribenote, and we're here for another episode of What's Up Doc?. Thanks for joining us. Today we have Dr. Greg Bishop with us. He is super interesting and very creative, and we're going to get into a little bit about him and some of the things that he's doing. Welcome, Greg.

Dr. Bishop:

Hi Katie. Thanks for having me.

Katie:

You're welcome. To start off, could you introduce yourself?

Dr. Bishop:

Yeah. So, I'm a small animal veterinarian in Portland, Oregon, and I mostly do emergency relief for my clinical work. I do some general practice as well. I've been out of vet school for about 12 years — 12 years this June. Oh my gosh. I did a rotating internship, and then I practiced in California and Oregon. But in the last couple of years, I've moved to relief work, mostly doing ER. I also do a little teaching at the vet college that's local here.

A lot of my time right now is spent writing about veterinary medicine. I've got a web column for Veterinary Practice News on clinical communication. I'm also doing some illustrations and cartoons about the current state of veterinary medicine and some of the things that I'm seeing on the floor, and I do some speaking as well. So just a hodgepodge of things. I'm like a general practitioner for non-clinical stuff too. I kind of try to do everything — like a good veterinarian.

Katie:

Yeah. You wear many hats.

Dr. Bishop:

Yes.

Katie:

Jack of all trades. That's a good thing.

Dr. Bishop:

Yes. So many hats.

Katie:

First, I wanted to say the creative stuff is really super cool to me. I don't know if everyone has seen your website — I'm sure lots of people have — but for anyone listening, Sasquatch Paw has satire, some really smart articles, really on the nose. I've read a couple recently. The one that stands out is “You Can Trust Your Vet,” which covers the common question we all get about friends contacting us with medical questions — it happens all the time. You referred to it as an “experimental storytelling platform,” which I think is great because “blog” just boxes it in too much and doesn’t give it its full creative license. Maybe tell us a bit about that and why you started it.

Dr. Bishop:

About two years ago, I hit this point where — I don't know if it was burnout or what — but I just couldn't picture myself doing exactly the same thing for the next 20 or 30 years, or whatever my career was going to be. I've always had this bubble of creative lava in me that had been coming out in certain ways. I'd been drawing cartoons forever, and I was illustrating some children's books at the time, but I thought, “I’ve got to take this more seriously — intentionally try to become a professional at this.”

As a storyteller, you have to write what you know and explore that. I thought, “Well, I'm here in the clinic, a lot of times on the ER floor in these intense situations, seeing stuff with animals — but also the human side of the ER. People get so personal.” And I thought I could turn this into something important to share — to document.

A lot of my colleagues are struggling, and a lot of the messaging we’re exposed to is either from the corporate side — squeaky clean, “here’s a wellness program, hooray” — or from the academic side, which can feel like, “You’re doing it wrong; do this and this and this.” I thought we need more voices from the floor saying, “This is our experience,” not in a destructive way, but in an honest, authentic, representational way. So that’s been my aim with the website: putting stuff out there. Sometimes it's completely bonkers ideas — I’m not trying to force them on anyone, but I need to get them out.

The one I wrote, “By the Way, You Can Totally Trust Your Vet”: I get so many phone calls — we all do. Calls and emails from friends: “Hey, I went to the vet. They said X, Y, or Z. Does this look right?” You get a picture of the estimate for dentistry: “Is this right?” I don’t know anybody I went to vet school with, any of my colleagues now, who’s in this in a corrupt way. Everyone is dedicated to helping animals. I wanted a form response to those people. Yes, it was satirical and a bit smarmy — that’s my style.

Katie:

I loved it, honestly. It was so good. It’d be nice to portray our viewpoint to clients — the people coming into the clinic. I wish money weren’t a huge part of it, because it makes things super challenging, especially in ER. It adds to the day-to-day exhaustion: the constant discussion about money, the constant distrust, all of that. You’re totally right — we certainly need another voice.

Dr. Bishop:

I'm so drawn to language and communication. I started undergrad as a linguistics major. I love asking: how do we take ideas that are in this population and get them over here? You do it through language. At one point I was a field assistant in the Amazon jungle for a few months and worked with folks who spoke Quechua — the language of the Inca. I would sit with them and write down words and try to learn the language, because there’s a richness of experience you can have through language.

In veterinary medicine we get confused, because we’re both speaking English — but we’re not. We’re speaking “veterinary medicine,” and our clients are speaking normal human. We forget there’s a translation, with techniques and ways to do it. I like the idea of mediating that conversation back and forth — not only explaining to veterinarians (I do CE talks where I translate what’s going on over here to them), but also explaining to the public what’s going on with veterinarians right now and what they should know.

Katie:

I totally agree. It’s super important to have both perspectives. Being that mediator is a really unique way to approach what you're doing. Really cool stuff. I’m looking forward to reading more of the articles you have on there. You also have some of your art — I saw “New York Rejects” or something. Maybe tell me about that.

Dr. Bishop:

I’ve drawn cartoons my whole life. Every once in a while I’ll do a whole series; I’ve tried different formats. My neighbor is a nuclear engineer who, on the side, draws cartoons for The New Yorker. You know those single-panel gag cartoons. He submitted for years and eventually got a few in. I love that format and idea, so I started drawing some. There are actually a few New Yorker cartoonists in Portland; we’d get together, hang out, talk cartoons — composition, the joke — and deconstruct them. I loved it.

I started submitting a couple years ago. I haven’t had any accepted. At the same time, I wondered about cartoons for a veterinary audience. A cartoon is a little joke you can read in five seconds — perfect for the modern, low-attention-span online environment. I pitched them to Veterinary Practice News. I had a relationship with the editor, and she said, “Yeah, sure. This is great.” As far as I can tell, it’s the only veterinary cartoon series being published in a magazine format. The feedback has been really good.

For me, it’s personal. I’ll put into the cartoons something from a crazy experience — like doing CPR in an emergency — and find the funny aspect, draw it, and then other veterinarians or colleagues who’ve had that happen can connect with it and hopefully find the humor. The feedback’s been awesome. People have been really appreciative. If I can be a bit grandiose, I think it enriches our culture of veterinary medicine — gives us something different than we’re used to. It’s the stuff I would want to see out there.

Katie:

Not a lot of people bring laughter and humor to what can be a really dark profession. We deal with hard stuff: difficult conversations, discussions about end of life, cancer, and all the emergencies — hit-by-car cases and more. It’s heavy. That lightness and laughter — putting a bit of a spin on it to look at it differently — is really refreshing.

Dr. Bishop:

Yeah. And what’s the alternative — just stay in the darkness? In vet school, everyone says, “I’m going to be a cardiologist or a neurologist,” and I always thought, “I don’t feel smart enough or good enough to do those things.” If I have a facility with anything, it’s language, communication, and the creative side. It seemed like there was a genuine need. Maybe that’s me talking myself into spending time on it, but it’s been fun.

Katie:

Communication is such a huge aspect of the profession. We can’t do our job without it, so you have to be good at it. If you can make it more relevant to the people you’re talking to, that brings you closer to meeting people where they’re at — their understanding, their experience, all of that. Good for you — it’s a refreshing way to deal with the heaviness of this job.

We were briefly chatting before we started about all the challenges in veterinary medicine, and you want to reframe them as opportunities. I’ll ask a super-vague question: what do you think is the biggest opportunity in the veterinary profession right now — to change the way things are and move forward?

Dr. Bishop:

I honestly think it’s communication. There’s so much tragedy from miscommunications — clients being unsatisfied, angry, even verbally abusive. I don’t think it’s our responsibility to make people act mature — agreed — but there are genuine communication skills that can prevent a lot of that. Within teams, too: if clear communication were at 100%, our profession would be in a much better place.

That’ll never be 100%, but it’s really important — and it’s not something many of us, as animal-kids who grew up wanting to be Doc McStuffins, want to spend more time on. We don’t want to train in that because it’s not the fun part. But it underpins so much, especially as pets become more emotionally salient to people. That’s happening — French Bulldogs are the most popular breed. We want these little cute things in our house to feed our own egos; we’re more anxious and sensitive. The delicacy of communication is really important. That’s my bias. It won’t solve everything, but it will make teamwork better, and ultimately everything is a collaboration.

You can have the most upset client and a case going poorly, but if you can get people on your side, you can practice better medicine and do more of what you want. So how do we get ideas transmitted fluidly to each other? Everybody is here to help. People don’t come into the vet clinic to be a jerk. They come for help. They might end up being a jerk in the clinic, but they didn’t get out of bed thinking, “I’m going to abuse my vet.”

Katie:

I think it’s because it’s such a charged environment — money, stress, the perception that we’re judging them for certain things, how long they’ve waited, how they care for their dog or cat. The communication part — even though it takes longer and makes the appointment more complex, and sometimes you go in circles trying to meet people exactly where they are at the time they bring their pet in — would make it easier.

But I also feel like appointment workflows don’t always set us up for that. Some corporate models I’ve seen have support staff take a history (which is great), and the vet is in the room for 10 minutes and then out. I think we need to move away from that toward a true team approach, where clients get value for the money they’re spending. We have to pay our staff, but people are also paying us a ton of money — they deserve the time.

I find I get most exhausted because I take my full appointment time. This is how Scribenote came to be. I’m always in the appointment discussing, teaching, going over things, then I’m running to the next one. It’s an onslaught of never having time to breathe, use the bathroom, drink water — you know what I mean? It seems unsustainable sometimes. I just wish there were some way to still make a good profit for businesses, but also check off the boxes people need for client experience.

Dr. Bishop:

Yeah. Because historically we’ve been such a trusted profession, and now more and more it seems— I haven’t seen data on this, but it seems—there’s more complaining about vets not being there, or about the cost of care. I didn’t know this: in the last two decades, the cost of veterinary care has gone up faster than inflation and faster than the cost of human health care. These are normal people out there who want help. And I don’t think it’s 99% of vets’ fault that that’s happened. There are reasons. But of course that’s going to manifest as frustration and venting.

We look at animals that come into the clinic acting fear-aggressive—really, they’re just afraid, and they have a repertoire of behaviors they do when they’re afraid. We don’t judge the animals. It’s not fun to deal with a 150-pound Cane Corso that has never been muzzle-trained and the owner’s a [ __ ] who thinks the dog’s fine. It’s not fun. But we don’t look at the dog and say, “This dog should have known better.”

With people, it’s so easy to judge them—like, I just used the word [ __ ], right? We have to remember everyone’s coming from a different experience. If we just open our minds and horizons a little bit—which is hard when we’re swamped, backed up, overwhelmed—I do think this is part of why we have so many problems.

Sometimes we’re put in impossible situations. For me, when everything sucks, the only thing I can do is try to reframe at least a small part of it—with a laugh, hopefully—and that’ll make it seem slightly easier, at least for a little bit.

Katie:

Yeah, for sure. There’s this line: tragedy plus time equals comedy. I totally agree that’s true. I like that you reframe it—it’s a good way to be. I’m sure it helps with some of the exhaustion and the burden we carry as veterinarians. It’s a complex profession to explain to anyone. As a kid you think you’ll pet cats and dogs all day, or not have to deal with people—but people are the biggest part of this profession. They come with the credit cards, the leash, the carrier; they’re the intermediary. If we can’t connect with them, I don’t know how far we’re going to get.

Dr. Bishop:

Yeah, totally. Top of mind, I always think 80% of my job is just talking to other humans. The other 20% is great and amazing—but you can’t have it without the 80%. So why not try to make that better? That’s been my mentality.

Katie:

So, you do the cartoons and the satire. Is there a different way you go about your appointments? With your explanations—do you draw things, use comparisons? Any differences there?

Dr. Bishop:

Definitely in communication style. I’ve been really curious about this and following the research—there’s kind of a golden period right now of clinical communication research. Jason Coe is one of the people who does this, and Jane Shaw—I think they’re both in Ontario.

Katie:

Yeah, Jason.

Dr. Bishop:

They’ve published a lot about communication styles. I’ve been reading their textbook and writing Veterinary Practice News articles about it, too. I actually use these techniques—like “warning shots.” I was talking to a very experienced colleague who’s a great communicator, and I mentioned warning shots—when you know you’re going to deliver bad news, you send a clear signal beforehand: “Hey, we’re about to go into something hard.” He wasn’t familiar with the term. I think he subconsciously does it, but I now really pay attention to using it. I also think about humor in the appointment as a tool. There are lots of communication tools: warning shots, humor, signposting, agenda setting. Client interaction can be a beautiful part of clinical work. You can take someone who’s really elevated and bring them back onto the team in a collaborative way.

As I’ve learned more, I’ve been intentional about putting it into practice. I’ll be in conversation with a sort of meta-awareness: Now’s the time for a warning shot, or this might be a moment where a light joke could help. I always talk about euthanasia—I do so many. I did a workshop on clinical humor—using humor in clinical settings—and asked, “Do you ever make jokes during euthanasia?” The prevailing mentality was no: too sensitive, not the right time. My experience is that, if you’re open to it and the timing is right, you can help someone who’s devastated by reframing a key part: people often think their pet is experiencing human-like fear of mortality—“Oh my gosh, I’m going to die.” That’s not the case. The pet’s experience is like going under anesthesia; animals live in the moment.

I’ll sometimes drop a gentle line like, “Your pet isn’t worried they’ll never see Paris.” If I’m reading the client right and the timing is right, I get genuine laughter about 90% of the time. In that moment—going from terrible to a light feeling of mirth and a reframing of a horrible experience into something beautiful—that’s powerful. I’ve become very intentional about that and more convinced of its value.

Katie:

Wow. I can see that being a very unique way to approach euthanasia appointments. Reading the room is crucial. It’s probably not for everyone, and I’m sure you don’t use it in every appointment, but those strong emotions can change quickly—the line between sorrow and laughter. When people are in that state of mind, you have more opportunity to impact them. That’s really beautiful; it sounds like a peaceful way to go through those appointments.

Dr. Bishop:

Yeah. It’s the total value of communication as a collaborative tool. It’s like watching a good surgeon move fluidly. When I do surgery it can feel clumsy—but communication fluidity comes with time. It’s amazing what you can do with just words to other primates—other large, bipedal primates.

Katie:

What is that book called? I’m super interested. The textbook?

Dr. Bishop:

It’s never far from my side: Developing Communication Skills for Veterinary Practice by Jane Shaw and Jason Coe. It’s totally readable, with good examples. It’s a slim textbook—not something many people buy for pleasure—but it’s so important. I keep seeing the value.

Katie:

For sure. I went to the Ontario Veterinary College where Jason Coe teaches, and while I was in school he was teaching. We used the Calgary-Cambridge Guide. Are you familiar with that? A lot of what you mentioned—agenda setting, etc.—does become second nature. You have to be intentional at first, but then it becomes part of your workflow. You don’t have to hit every step; it depends. Communication is different in every situation—like our jobs. No day is the same; every appointment is different, and you juggle a lot in an 8–12–16-hour day.

Dr. Bishop:

Yeah. It’s funny how you go from school—“Sweet, I knew the multiple-choice answer”—to practice: “Wait, what? There’s no clear answer.” You have to make up a plan because the situation seems impossible. There was never a test question like this in school. Then it’s like, you’re the doctor now. You decide and come up with your best plan.

Katie:

That’s the craziest transition. I graduated in 2016 and do the same thing you did—lose track of years out of school. Time goes fast. We always say “once you’re out,” like you were incarcerated—kind of! The amount you learn by trial by fire as a new grad is insane. Communication is huge, but nothing follows the textbook. You encounter so many different situations, and there’s nothing like the feeling that you’re the final decision-maker. In school you do it, but it doesn’t feel the same as in practice. It’s such a crazy transition—I remember it well.

Dr. Bishop:

Yeah. Literally the power of life and death. The self-doubt and impostor syndrome—everyone I know in the profession has it to some degree. Psychologically, it can be a real gauntlet of horror sometimes.

Katie:

I agree. Clinical medicine is complex. There are so many facets. Try explaining what you do to a five-year-old—you can’t just say, “I see dogs and cats all day.” It’s practicing medicine on beings that can’t talk, within a budget. It’s super hard.

Dr. Bishop:

Yeah. A couple years ago I did my RECOVER certification—great, really well done. One thing they teach is: convey what’s happening in CPR to your client in 60–90 seconds. Right after finishing that, a 19-year-old Cavalier in heart failure came in coding. The owner wanted CPR. I go to talk to her: “It’s actually my son’s dog; I have to get him on the phone.” In my head I’m counting down: 89, 88, 87… Impossible. The way it’s presented in the video makes sense; it’s the proper way to teach. But the real world is messier and more chaotic.

You have to believe: you’re the captain of the ship. It doesn’t have to be perfect or like the video. There’s no one else—just me. I can be here, talk to them, and be better than nothing. Maybe that’s not the perfect mindset, but it helps me get through it. Same with surgery: I’ll close an incision and think, “Oof, that looks ugly—not like the textbook.” But it’s closed; it’ll hold; it’ll heal. I don’t need to beat myself up. I can be okay with it.

Katie:

And dogs don’t go to beauty pageants. If they get a funny haircut, hair grows back. Give yourself grace. You’re doing the best you can with what you have. Impostor syndrome is significant in this profession because there’s so much to know—about so many things—and so many other factors. It’s overwhelming. I really like your reframing—changing perspective on a situation is super positive. Hopefully some listeners can get help from that—and maybe read that textbook. I love the communication part of this profession. It does add time; you can’t rush it. People need time to understand, and that’s challenging.

There’s a lot folks can take away from this discussion. I can’t wait to read more of your satire—edgy, relevant writing about the profession. It’s changing all the time, and the community aspect, plus writing from a place of knowledge, is really cool.

Dr. Bishop:

Yeah. I felt like, I’ve been a vet for basically 10 years—I think I can say some stuff about it now.

Katie:

For sure you can. On that note, we’ll wrap things up and maybe follow up in the future based on new articles and such. Thank you so much for joining me. It’s been a pleasure, and we’ll see everyone next time on What’s Up Doc?.

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