What Our Rhino Conservation Trip to Africa Taught Us About Vet Med, Purpose, and Perspective
It’s been a few weeks since we got back, and we're still trying to stabilize back into society, back into our jobs, and back into some version of routine. But this trip changed us. And like all meaningful experiences, we’re sitting with the question: How do we integrate what we’ve learned and use it to make our lives and other vets’ lives more meaningful?
It started as a somewhat last-minute opportunity through our friend Chloe, the Jungle Doctor: veterinarians were needed for a rhino dehorning mission in South Africa. We, of course, said hell yes without knowing exactly what we were getting into, just trusting that it would be big. It was!
The Reality of Rhino Dehorning
We joined the Wildscapes veterinary team in Hoedspruit, South Africa to help dehorn rhinos: trimming their horns to deter poachers. It’s a heartbreaking reality: rhino horns are sold on the black market for upwards of $60,000 USD per kilogram each, often used as status symbols or “aphrodisiacs” despite being made of keratin—yep, the same as our hair and fingernails.
Poachers don’t just cleanly take the horn. They kill the rhino, hacking through its skull to get access to the horn and sell it for money. The most effective method that’s proven to slow this slaughter is dehorning. It’s not glamorous. It’s not what anyone wants to do to these wild animals. But it’s making a difference.
Each weeklong mission costs around $50,000 USD and involves:
A fixed-wing plane to spot rhinos
A helicopter with a vet trained to dart and immobilize them
Multiple veterinary-staffed trucks on the ground
Potent immobilizing drugs (many times stronger than fentanyl)
20+ people working in sync, across rugged terrain (like, really rugged)
A Day in the Bush Looked Like This:
Wake up at 5 a.m.
Teams meet by 6 a.m. to prep trucks and gear
The plane scouts rhinos across massive reserves
Once located, the helicopter swoops in and the vet darts them from above
Ground teams race in, and the lead vet makes first contact
A blindfold is placed gently over the rhino’s eyes to reduce stimulation
We position their massive bodies carefully, place IV catheters, give oxygen, microchip, trim the horn, and mark them with spray paint so we don’t dart the same rhino twice
The sedative is reversed, the team clears the area, and we watch from a distance until the rhino rises safely and trots off.
A Few Rules:
Don’t touch the dart site. The drugs can be lethal to humans.
Stay alert. You’re in the African bush with other wild, deadly animals, from scorpions to lions to elephants.
Never be out of the truck when a rhino is awake.
Plan time for rest and relaxation. We took a few days to eat healthy, exercise, and have a spa day to recover. Shout out to our friends at Kateka Lodge for giving us the restoration we needed. #selfcare
The Experience: Dusty, Gritty, and Alive
The work is hard. Physically and emotionally. Rhinos weigh over 2,000 pounds. Moving them is no joke. The dust and mud cover you. Watch out for giant ticks that live on them. The adrenaline is real. You’ll laugh one minute and feel like crying the next.
And yet… it’s magic.
The helicopter is buzzing above. Trucks fly down dirt roads. You sprint toward a living, breathing dinosaur (close enough) and feel the thunder of its breath under your hand. You play frisbee and eat granola bars between rhino sightings. You feel connected to something primal, natural, and pure.
It reminded us: not every vet job looks like a clean exam room and an iPad.
Some vets live in safari parks and nature reserves. They’re on call, working long hours for limited pay. Their offices are the outdoors. Their days are filled with unpredictability versus appointments. No job is perfect. And even the “cool” ones have hidden costs.
What We Took With Us
This trip gave us perspective. We came home grateful for air conditioning, clean clothes, paid time off, and clients who adore their pets. But we also came back clearer about what matters.
Wildlife vets aren’t optimizing for higher ACTs or 15 minute appointments or perfect SOAP notes.
They’re measuring success in lives saved.
They still face heartbreaking cases and hard calls. They still second guess decisions and get frustrated with limitations. But they’re in it for the mission, and the mission is urgent.
At the end of the day, we’re all in this profession to help animals.
And if we’re lucky, they help us too.
They ground us. They remind us of our why. They bring us back to ourselves.
Feeling Stuck? Try This:
If you’re in a season of doubt, burnout, or boredom, maybe it’s time to step outside. Literally and figuratively.
Get into nature. Try something new. Use your skills in a totally different way. Volunteer.
Vet med has so many paths. Don’t let one version define you.
And if you’re craving an experience like this, something that cracks you open and reconnects you to your purpose, drop your email here to be the first to know when The Evolved Vets Retreats launch.
Hear all about our experience in episode 9 of our podcast!
