Paul A. Henny, DDS

In a Town Full of Dentists, One Stood Out

Early in my professional development, I worked as an associate dentist in a small town that served as the economic hub for about 20,000 county residents. The town itself had a population of 6,000—and surprisingly, six dentists and an oral surgeon. The area was known for its quail hunting reserves, and many locals, including dentists, were avid bird hunters.

One dentist in particular stood out. He was in his 50s and worked at a relaxed, comfortable pace. He genuinely enjoyed interacting with his patients, most of whom he knew well as part of the close-knit community. When he had openings in his schedule, he’d retreat to the back room of his converted house/office to load shotgun shells.

Through the Eyes of a Young Associate Dentist

At the time, I couldn’t understand it. I was struggling to get paid based on collections in a practice that wasn’t great at collecting (a problem that eventually drove me to seek a better opportunity). I’d watch this dentist and think, “This is crazy! He could be working and making money. Why isn’t he working his patient base more efficiently?”

The answer didn’t come to me until years later.

The Tortoise Was Right All Along

The shotgun philosopher had chosen a modest, intentional lifestyle that aligned with his values. His home and dental practice were paid off. His retirement accounts were well-funded. He didn’t need to work—but he loved his patients, his community, and his hobbies. His schedule reflected the kind of life he wanted to live.

It was, in many ways, the opposite path from scaling up, running multiple locations, or selling early to a DSO in pursuit of (theoretical) “generational wealth.” It was a tortoise-and-hare story—and one that’s available to many of us, if we have the clarity of mind and discipline to pursue it.

Did this dentist sell his practice for a high multiple? No.

Did he need to? Also no.

Was his life stressful? Not really—because he was selective about the dentistry he chose to do and made sure he was compensated fairly.

From Simplicity Comes Freedom

David Cook, who trained at The Pankey Institute other postgraduate programs, chose a similar path. Now retired, he recently told me:

I’ve seen dentists at the end of their career moaning about how good it used to be—how the golden years were 20 years ago. But the golden years for those entering dentistry are right in front of them. That doom and gloom passed down from one generation to the next has to be squashed. I felt it early in my career, too. I heard all the negative talk about this new thing called an HMO that was going to eliminate private dental practice and fee-for-service dentistry. Then came the capitation concept…My wife and I did careful financial planning years ago. We don’t spend extravagantly—we don’t have a second home. We live simply. I didn’t start collecting guitars until I knew my retirement was secure. We got out of debt early, so by the time the kids were in junior high, the practice and house were paid off. We covered private school tuition, college, and even my son’s dental school—all from cash flow.

His story, and that of the shotgun-shell-loading dentist, has me thinking. Maybe it’s time I set up a back room of my own, or at least check online for another guitar.