South Africa Field Experience

By: Michael Lovasz

Class of 2012, Ross University

Did you know that Echinococcus is commonly found in the fur of the leopard?  I do now. This is just one of the many interesting facts that I learned while doing a two week externship in South Africa last April. A group of four of us were about to start our third year of Veterinary School and we were very eager to apply what we already knew, or believed we knew, to the field.

In our first week we had the rare opportunity to assist in Cape buffalo herd management in the Red Zone. These animals were either infected or acting as a buffer zone to animals infected with Foot and Mouth Disease, Tuberculosis, Brucellosis, and Corridor Disease (Theileria parva). Tuberculosis is a huge concern in South Africa because it affects populations throughout the ecosystem. It effects the immunocompromised humans, which is an immediate concern, and tuberculosis has also decimated the lion population.  The value of a disease-free buffalo is about ten times greater than an infected one. While the story of tuberculosis in buffalo, lions and man is interesting, this article is going to focus on my time with leopards, and their story is an unfortunate and sad one.

Leopards have two really big strikes against them. First, they are predator animals. They usually feed on slow antelope or anything they can catch in the wild of South Africa. Unfortunately for the leopard, there is very little “wild South Africa” left. Because of the lack of hunting grounds and animals in the sparce open lands, leopards go where the food is – private farms. Leopards are unfamiliar with the idea of “trespassing” and only have a real notion of survival. But to a farmer or owner, fence or no fence, if an animal comes onto their land, they are legally protected in shooting it. The desperation for food is bringing these cats to more and more “private farms” and to the edge of annihilation.

The leopards’ second problem is a very sad incident of mistaken identity. We were staying very close to the heart of the Zulu nation. To become a man in the Zulu nation, armed only with a spear, a boy as young as twelve was sent into the bush. You return as a man once you have killed a cheetah. I am only speculating here, but if I was in the woods, hunting in the dark (leopards are nocturnal creatures while cheetah are diurnal), and without food or water for a few days, just about anything is going to look like a cheetah. And so a leopard is often killed instead. And its fur is worn as though it were a cheetah. But much like a person trying to pass off a fake Rolex or Prada as the real thing, we know the truth.  To tell the difference other than their different times of activity, a leopard has rosette shaped spots covering its body and a white stripe under its eyes to help reflect moonlight, while a cheetah’s spots are singular and large and it has a black stripe under its eyes to absorb sunlight. There are other reasons why the populations are at risk but where we were staying, these are the biggest.

Our job that afternoon (after a morning of moving rhino), was to a father-and-son run preserve. Their land housed the Big Five (elephant, rhino, buffalo, lion and leopard) distributed across an enormous amount of land. Both research on these animals and ecotourism bring a lot of money to South Africa, as does private game hunting, and to lose any of these incredible creatures would be a tragic loss.  The reason for our visit was simple: collar replacement. This preserve is hard at work reestablishing the leopard numbers in South Africa. Each adult leopard is monitored via radio tracking collar, which has a battery life of about seven years. Fortunately for me, seven years was coming up. There were six of us in total:  the veterinarian, the client/owner, and the four of us students.

We drove in two trucks and soon left the comforts of the estate home as we entered the wilderness.  The road led to a ridge and a pretty tight road leading to a valley below. The sun was already halfway set, and as I looked into the valley I watched a herd of giraffe gallantly striding amongst the trees. This was something like the beginning of “Jurassic Park!” Warthogs scuttled and Guinea hens were running about. Antelope and huge eland were running from the sound of our engines; it was incredible. The cliff finally leveled to the valley floor, we drove for a few feet, and then the trucks stopped. A group of elephants were blocking the road. One very large elephant in particular stomped its feet impatiently while watching us.  One thing was certain, we were not going to beep our horns at him. So we sat there very, very quietly. The other three elephants continued to eat, ignoring us, while the largest was still quite adamant in keeping us where we were. If this elephant decided to charge us, it would have no problem at all flipping our trucks. Five more minutes passed, and the two of us that were in the outside bed of the truck were terrified to even make a noise to breath. Finally and very slowly, the large elephant took three steps back. This was just enough space to continue on the road and just enough to allow the elephant to do some damage if it changed its mind. The engines started and the trucks crept by slowly. While I appreciated that the drivers were going slow to keep the elephants calm, they were not on the receiving end of the hairy eyeball I was getting from that elephant! And while we were not charged, as soon as we were a few feet past, the elephant reclaimed that spot.

With all of the trees in the valley, the predator animals had a great advantage over us. What was worse, the radar was not getting a signal due to the trees. We needed to find some clear high ground and soon – the sun was just about to set. We finally found a high patch of clear ground and I heard the doppler beat of the radar. It reminded me of the tracking devices used in the movie “Aliens”.  The principle was similar. The closer you got to the leopard, the more intense the sound became. The veterinarian and the owner got out of their trucks and came to the back where I was sitting. Next to me was a cooler which I had given little thought to. Inside this cooler were chunks of some animal, and they were quite ripe. I could not help but feel a little nervous that I was sitting next to the bait for these powerful cats. The collars show the cats’ patterns for hunting, and so a spot was designated for putting out some of the meat. After setting the meat the four of us students were sent back down into the valley while the veterinarian and owner remained in waiting.  We were sent to a spot where another pride of elephants had recently been. Their fresh droppings were the last thing I was able to make out as the sun disappeared for the rest of the evening.

There are a lot of noises in the bush once the sun goes down. Some animals yelp to each other, some grunt, and some take this time to sharpen their horns or tusks. It is the grinding sound that is most disturbing to listen to while sitting the back of a truck in total darkness. I had a headlamp and occasionally I would turn it on, but seriously, what was I going to do if we were surrounded by elephants or lions? There were two machetes on the bed of the truck next to me and those machetes gave me a very false sense of security. As a few minutes became a few hours and the rubbing sounds got closer and closer. I became a bit more nervous. But the machete was now in my hand, so I was keeping it together. Finally one of the other students said the one thing I dreaded to hear the whole evening. “I have to go to the bathroom”. This is the bush and if you are going to the bathroom, you are going with a buddy. At least I had the comfort of the bed of the truck, now we had to leave its comforts for the unknown. We survived the ordeal thanks to a lot of laughter and bravado, and once we got back to the truck our classmates wanted to know if we wanted to squeeze into the cab. Of course I did, but if the veterinarian and the owner came back down the mountain to find the four of us huddled together, we would never hear the end of it. Besides, I still had my ancient, rusty, handle-split and taped-together machete. Finally, by the third hour of waiting, the lights from the vet’s truck came at us pretty fast. It was time to go.

The leopard was out in an open field and we carefully made our approach. It was darted with butyrophenone/midazolam cocktail, but you never know exactly how the cat will react. “You must respect the cat at all times,” we were told. The grass was pretty tall and we used flood lights to scan for signs of the leopard. The truck stopped and I was told to grab the board in the back and the scale. The others grabbed the rest of the supplies. We carefully set the supplies down while admiring the leopard a few feet away. It was a male and his head was wrapped in a towel by the veterinarian.  “Be especially mindful of the tail, if you step on it or pull on it, the cat will wake up”. I made it my number one priority to know where that tail was at all times. Since there were no tree branches to hang the scale from, and I was the low man on the totem pole, I became the tree.

After getting a weight, it was time for a head to toe physical exam. This leopard was in a fight recently. I saw scratches and some puncture wounds that were going to need exploring. The wounds turned out to be superficial. “Well?” I was asked. “Is he the winner or loser?” I went with my gut and said, “Winner. He would probably be dead if he had lost.”  The veterinarian contemplated my answer for a moment and agreed with my answer but not my logic. “If he were the loser, his legs would be torn up, from running away.” That made a lot of sense and I was a little embarrassed of not considering that. We flushed his wounds and I administered an intramuscular injection of selenium and vitamin E to help our champ towards recovery. No antibiotics were indicated or given. I recorded the measurements as the veterinarian called them out:  tail length, shoulder height, body length, and dental findings. Finally, his collar’s battery was replaced. Upon reversal of the drug, we remained in the cab and observed the patient. The male leopard was fully recovered in about two minutes from administration of the reversal. He grabbed the chunk of meat and vanished into the bush.

The female was found a lot sooner. Her hunting grounds were not as wide as the male’s was. Again the bait was placed and we left the area. The night was not as intimidating as it was an hour before, and we talked about the leopard, the drugs we used and after a few minutes, the truck re-emerged. The female leopard went down by some trees so we were not able to get in as close with the trucks as we did for the first leopard. Once again the supplies were off loaded from the truck this time being carried a longer distance. I should mention, there are a lot of holes in the ground in South Africa. I should also mention that it is said that if you fall into a hole, that you own that piece of land. If this is the case, then I own a great portion of that continent. Once again the veterinarian placed a towel around the leopard’s head before any of us were to approach. We lifted her on to the board, being careful with the tail, and moved her into a clearing. This meant once again my expert tree-like skills were required. The owner seemed very excited and it took me a moment to realize why. The leopard had a little belly, which meant she was a good eater or she was bred. Once again we did a physical exam recording everything. Finally, the veterinarian palpated her abdomen. He asked if we wanted to feel and gently placed our fingers where you could feel tiny bumps of life. The owner glowed with pride. This was very exciting news and he took out his camera to get some pictures of her for his newsletter.

As we finished palpating the leopard the veterinarian made a suggestion. “Do not touch your mouths or eyes until you wash.” We looked at each other as though we did something wrong. He explained that through normal grooming, the Echinococcus eggs are seeded in the leopards fur.  Unfortunately for the veterinarian, this was a lesson learned the hard way. While he was a veterinarary student in South Africa, he actually believed to be infected by Echinococcus.  So he asked his professor what to do. At that moment the four of us looked at each other in disbelief. His parasitology professor was the same person we had. Ten years later and half of the world apart we learned we shared not one but two professors.

Thanking the owner for allowing us for this opportunity we left the reserve. Once we made it to a highway and found a gas station we stopped. We darted for the restrooms to scrub our hands and hope that we had not touched our mouths. As I looked into the mirror I saw the reflection of a coal minor. The dirt was cacked on me in layers. After I emerged a few minutes later and a lot cleaner, the attendant casually asked why we were so dirty. I explained our story and he was really pleased and even excited that we were Americans. As a general rule and as ambassadors for our school and country, we are always polite and never discuss politics.

The morning of our departure I went to thank the veterinarian and his family for taking us into their world. He stood motionless over the phone. His wife gathered us together to tell us what had happened. A friend and fellow veterinarian was found shot to death in the bush. While we were told many stories about poaching and the ways of fighting it, this made it all very real. This field of veterinary medicine has so much against it as it is, to lose a member to violence makes you question it all. This is the field in its darkest moment, much like that other evening with the pregnant leopard was its brightest.

Whether or not conservation medicine is a field of interest to you, I highly recommend doing an externship. Field medicine is incredible, you have to be innovative and think in the moment. The herd management and public health aspects were enlightening. You hear about diseases in class and hear how it might affect people, but when you put faces and cases to the information, it is incredible. I returned to school with a great deal of respect for all of my professors, because up until this trip, I had no idea what I had really learned in veterinary school. I wondered why they always pushed me so hard, forcing me to memorize what seemed to be infinite information. And then I went to South Africa, saw a hartebeest and when I was asked which disease this animal carried, I was able to answer that it is the host for Malignant Catarrhal Fever.