The last BSE case I diagnosed was on a Cornish dairy farm around 10 years ago. It was one of those “quaint” farms where the cow shed was an extension of the farm house, chickens nested on the kitchen shelves and you were only considered late for a call if you were more than a day behind with your visits. If you managed to turn up within 24 hours of the allotted time then you were typically greeted with a cheery “proper job”. If the call was done at the allotted time and didn’t result in the death of “Daisy” then, if lucky, you attained the dizzy heights of a “master job” – always a proud moment for an impressionable young veterinary graduate.
It was raining heavily on the day of the visit. The standard veterinary issue Holden Astra was no match for the bog hole which also doubled as the farm track so the farmer generously offered the services of the farm “ute”. The vehicle more closely resembled a 3 wheel motor bike on steroids but after scrambling in and shooing away the obligatory chickens we managed to splutter our way down the track towards the unsuspecting cow. What I remember most about the call is not the shaking, goose stepping and mentally challenged bovine but the two pieces of baler twine, one hanging through each side window of the truck. The windscreen wiper motor had long since died and the remedy was a bit of baler twine tied to each wiper blade. As we bumped along the track I was instructed to grab the string ends and pull from side to side to keep the windscreen clear – a bit of ingenuity any Kiwi would have been proud of.
Since that time, thankfully, the closest I’ve come to a case of spongiform encephalopathy in New Zealand has been in the form of sitting on the “BSE Committee” as the Dairy Cattle Vets’ representative. This committee was assembled last year with the task of increasing the number of cattle brain submissions for BSE surveillance. This is to prove to the rest of the world what we’ve known for a very long time that we do not have the disease in New Zealand. I’d have to admit to certain feelings of dread in attending yet another round of committee meetings. Despite these misgivings the experience was somewhat enlightening with the various representatives of the dairy industry, namely Federated Farmers, dairy vets, MAF, Meat & Wool & LIC working together towards a common goal. The cynics may argue that there was a dollar incentive for many of the parties involved to make the scheme a success. This may well be partly true but I still feel there was a willingness to make the scheme work for the common good of the dairy industry and I struggle to recall many (if any) other occasions where this has been the case.
The reason I mention this is my frustration over the years at the lack of cohesion between farm consultants, vets and dairy farmers. In the eight years of working in a busy dairy clinic I can remember only a handful of occasions when there were (constructive) round table discussions between the three parties. The main person to lose out here I feel is the farm owner/manager through a lack of clear recommendations.
Despite much opinion to the contrary, vets are truly interested in the financial success of the farm as well as the health of the herd. Maybe I’m being cynical, but I find it hard to believe that any consultant (including vets) can have all the answers to feed budgeting, financial planning, staffing, plant/soil science, animal health, nutrition, reproduction and mastitis. If someone claims otherwise my advice would be beware of the quality of the information. The next time the vet and farm consultant are planning their respective annual farm reviews or assessing a herd problem why not have a round table discussion?
