OSU grad isn’t in it for the money, London community rallies around local vet

In a small town like London, Ohio, it’s not just a cliché that everyone knows everyone else’s name. Some people refer to David Kipp as a hero, others insist he’s the most selfless man they know, but at least one kid still calls him “the man who killed my dog.”
Kipp isn’t a professional dog killer; he’s a veterinarian.
Animals have always been a significant part of his life. Originally from Dayton, Ohio, he moved to the London area in 1973 when his father started Ohio Feed Lot Inc., the largest cattle facility in Ohio. After graduating from Southeastern High School, he enrolled at Ohio State and majored in animal science. He received his Bachelor of Science in 1981, and immediately pursued a degree in veterinary medicine.
Dr. John Hubbell, 57 and a professor of veterinary anesthesiology at Ohio State, remembered Kipp being a “popular and engaging student” who was always “right there at the front.”
“[Kipp] filled the room in some way. He was eager to learn,” he said.
After finishing veterinary school in 1985, Kipp began working at the London Animal Hospital. When the owner wanted to retire 10 years later, Kipp seized the opportunity and bought the company in 1995.
Now 50, Kipp is the sole owner of London Animal Hospital, and one of three veterinary associates at the clinic. It’s rare to work in the same practice for the duration of a career, Kipp said.
“Owning a business isn’t 8-5, five days a week. It’s not for everybody, but it’s rewarding to build something,” he said.
Being a veterinarian isn’t what many think it is, he said.
“It’s hard and dirty and smelly. They have no idea,” he added with a smile.
Christina Coudret, one of the associates, has also never worked anywhere else. Coudret, 39, began interning on the weekends in 1997, and was hired immediately following her completion of school in 2000.
“Even though he’s my boss,” she said, “he treats me as a partner.”
His intimidating physical appearance contrasts with his friendly personality. Kipp towers over many at a height of 6 feet 3 inches, but many recognize his deep booming laugh before seeing him.
A lot of people would be surprised at how sentimental Kipp is, Coudret said. He got teary-eyed while giving a speech at last year’s Christmas party.
The clinic is open from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m., so the employees spend a lot of time together.
“They become your family,” Kipp said. “You see them more than you see your own family.”
The office’s laid back and friendly atmosphere is noticeable. Most of the employees wear jeans and can bring their dogs to work with them. Tucked into the back corner of his office is an old brown leather sofa, the “deep thought couch”, or the “napping couch”, depending on who is asked.
There are assorted signs in the waiting room. One reads “Pets welcome children must be on leash.” Another small plaque hangs on the wall thanking Kipp for saving a family’s dog hit by a car.
Susie Higgins, the dog’s owner, “couldn’t say enough good things about him.” While driving her two young children to school one rainy spring morning, Higgins, 41, noticed the family’s dog lying on the side of the road. She didn’t want to stop and let her daughters see their pet, she said.
Kipp also saw the white dog while he was driving to the office, and took it with him. The dog was given wonderful care, and he didn’t charge the family a penny, Higgins said.
“We were overwhelmed by his kindness. You don’t think there are people out there still like that,” Higgins said. “My kids think he’s the best thing on Earth.”
Kipp takes time to visit local second-grade classrooms. He teaches the importance of animal safety, and many children recognize him as the family’s vet. When he walks into classrooms, sometimes a child will point and proclaim that Kipp’s the one who killed their dog, he said.
Although many would consider him a social person, Kipp believes he lives a solitary life. He’s been married and divorced once, and doesn’t have any children.
When asked about his philosophy on life, he quoted Mark Twain, saying “to be good is to be lonely.”
But after 25 years, he’s finally at the point where he can be off when he wants, he said. Every year, he takes four to six weeks off and travels, mostly alone. He wants to go to all 50 states, and has been to 33, last time he counted.
He also loves to read and write, and is a Stephen King fan. One of his most valued possessions is an autographed copy of “Under the Dome.” Only 1,200 exist. Eventually, he wants to write a book, he said.
As for being 50, single, and having no children, he just takes age as it is, he said. “They’ve all been good years,” he said. “Hopefully the best are coming.”
As for right now, he enjoys doing what he likes.
“If I didn’t have to do paperwork everyday,” he said, “life would be a joy.”