Sunday, July 29, 2012

I hate to badger you, but...

I am increasingly concerned about genocide, and we, quite rightly, are worried about TB.

Not (for once) TB the old warmonger, our ex-ex-Prime Minister, but tuberculosis, the scourge of Victorian England.

The disease has been on the increase recently, and the government has charged DEFRA with the task of doing something about it. The worry is that there is a reservoir of TB in the badger population. Badgers can pass it onto cows (if you let them have access to the cow's feed), and then the cows can theoretically pass it onto people via their milk.

Although all UK milk is pasteurised before distribution and this kills the TB bacteria, rendering it harmless. And TB in the UK is spread from person to person.

There are about 9,000 cases of human TB diagnosed in the UK each year.  Last year just 36 of these were due to the animal form. "The majority of cases are in people over 65 years old (and who drank infected unpasteurised milk in the past) or in those of any age who picked up the infection abroad." (HPA 2009)

So what is DEFRA's plan?

Let's kill the UK's badgers.

Never mind the basic biology. Badgers live in relatively small communities and don't travel much. There are those that have TB and those that don't. If you go in and slaughter all the badgers in one area, you create an ecological vacuum, into which the local males that do travel will go. If these guys come from a non-TB infected population with little natural immunity, they are highly likely to contract the disease.

Research clearly shows that where badgers have been culled or slaughtered, the incidence of TB around the edge of that area actually increases.

So DEFRA's proposed culling of badgers will kill off a population of our natural wildlife to reduce the chance of spread of a disease that is not spread to humans by pasteurised milk, and where the slaughter is likely to increase the disease incidence.

What on earth is the matter with these people?

And while we're at it, can anyone explain to me our national obsession with milk: - haven't any of you lot been weaned yet?

PS you can check the science directly from DEFRA and the Health Protection Agency

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

A breath of fresh air?

OK, we know that French Bulldogs are the latest BIG thing and that you all want one. And frankly, I can see why. They do have a certain winning way about them, and my personal theory is that owners of short-nosed dogs spend more time giggling at and/or with their chosen furry pumpkins than owners of many other breeds.

Each breed, their charm, and I guess it's probably fairly likely that each genetic weirdness (ie breed) within the genus Canis (err, dog) does attract a certain human type who would want to own one. Hence the idea that owners sometimes end up looking like their dogs. It could, of course be the other way round, with dogs seeking to emulate their owners' physiognomy by way of some exalted hero- or heroine-worship, but I doubt it.

You get a dog and generally fall in love with the endless/boundless affection and apparently uncritical adulation that goes with it. That's the idea isn't it? And so impressed are you with the wisdom of this creature that has chosen to recognise your magnificence (in a way that the rest of the human race is sometimes a little slow to catch up on), that over time, rather like those couples that end up dressing the same - always a pet hate of mine - you pick up on some of the behaviour and even the look of your canine companion.

And... hey presto! The 'Dog that looks most like it's owner' category in the Hyde Park Veterinary Centre Dog Show and countless others like it across the country.

But I digress, and apologise for it.

A recent survey (you've got to love a good survey) at the Royal Veterinary College, no less, showed that of 285 dogs referred to the hospital for awide variety of reasons, 31 were identified as being affected by the Brachycephalic Obstructive Airway Syndrome, which means they had difficulty breathing normally, snored loudly at night and struggled to exercise normally. Nearly 60% of their owners did not perceive this to be a problem, despite the fact that in the general population less than 2% snore.

The issue here is that many dogs, as a result of their specific breed conformation, really struggle to breathe normally, and they don't have to. Help is available to help these guys, so don't just tolerate the panting, wheezing and snoring: ask you vet and get help. It can revolutionise their lives. And yours.

If you want any more information on breed-related health problems, check the Universities Federation for Animal Welfare website.


Wednesday, July 4, 2012

A pain in the *#!@?

Teddy is a 6 year old Shar Pei dog, a breed not always known for their good health & temperament (yes, I know, Shar Pei fans, they're not ALL like that), but Teddy has been a bit extreme.

He had severe and long-standing ear infections with bacteria that were resistant to every single oral antibiotic that we had available to treat him with.

And he was extremely aggressive, to the point where his owner was completely unable to get anywhere near him to treat his ears at home. The only thing we could do was to admit him into the clinic each time to be sedated so that we could syringe out his ears and instill a medication into the ear canals.

We hated doing it because we knew that he hated the whole process. Every time he would become insanely aggressive to the point where, quite apart from our real concerns about his welfare, each time I was really worried at the prospect of one of us being very badly bitten.

Every time, it was horrible.

So earlier this year we sent him off to our colleagues at Davies Veterinary Specialists for ear surgery to remove all the infected tissue, a procedure called a Total Ear Canal Ablation. The idea is that if you remove all the infected tissue, despite the fact that they lose most of their hearing, you do remove the source of their pain. They, of course, found him a real challenge to deal with, and there were multiple complications with the management of his surgery wounds (and of course his behaviour), but eventually he did heal and went home.

He came back into the clinic yesterday with a cut on his face, just below his left eye.

Great.

Then I found myself sitting down in front of him, gently handling his face, cleaning his wound, applying a tissue adhesive, checking his ears and applying some gel to the ear flaps.

And he didn't move an inch. His owner and I could not believe what we were seeing. A total change in his behaviour, the raging psychopath turned gentle little teddy bear. Never in a thousand years would that have been possible before the surgery that took him out of pain.

Just goes to show, if someone is a pain in the *#!@, maybe it's because they actually have a pain in the *#!@...

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

A blast from the past

Then just this morning,  in walked Pepito. Or to be fair he was dragged in, in a massively over-sized travel crate. Weighing in at a thoroughly reprehensible 9.24kg, he has come for some much-needed dental work.

Pepito (despite his size) is a cat, but not just any old cat. Pepito and I have a bit of shared history.

He was adopted by his current owner many years ago from an animal welfare refuge in Rabat, Morocco, right down on the Boulevard de l'Ocean, where the Atlantic waves crash on the jagged rock formations as intrepid fisherman try to avoid being swept away to an uncertain watery fate and the sun blazes down 320 days a year..


Back in the 1990's, I spent 4 years of my life in Morocco, working for the Society for the Protection of Animals in North Africa and spent many of my days working in that self same refuge.

I was responsible for a chain of charity funded veterinary clinics across the country, and my job was to tour the clinics, training and supervising the local staff, providing equipment and supplies, identifying possible sites for new clinics and helping supervise their construction.

As a result, I spent many hours in that self same refuge in Rabat, helping treat sick & injured horses, mules and donkeys, operating on cats and dogs and planning how we could best improve the facilities on our limited resources.

The idea that Pepito was just another lost and helpless cat in North Africa, who somehow found his way to a animal sanctuary - unlikely enough in itself, given the territory, that somehow he managed to persuade a passing visitor that he was the one for her, and that he and she should then follow a very varied trajectory to bring them eventually to a clinic in central London...

Small world.