Chronic wasting disease not just someone else's problem

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Last week, an unusual note crossed my desk, from an editor in the newsroom at the Kennebec Journal. It read:

"A caller who didn't identify himself suggested we might want to look into chronic wasting disease. Said game wardens are going to a local animal farm to put down a whitetail deer because of it, at 10 a.m. tomorrow, Tuesday."

Before anybody gets too worked up -- the story proved false. At least, for now.

It was true that a warden and biologists from Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife had gone to a local game farm, and they did take a deer with them, but only for routine testing.

A wild deer, I was told by Mark Latti, department spokesperson, had been taken inside the fenced area to be rehabilitated with domestic deer, like red deer and sitka deer. When this happens, department policy says that the wild deer must be removed, destroyed and immediately tested for chronic wasting disease -- a highly infectious disease that occurs naturally in North American deer and elk, which has been slowly creeping eastward over the past decade or so.

The disease has devastated deer populations in parts of the Midwest. Last year, Maine tested nearly 600 deer for the disease. All turned up negative.

Still, after I received the tip, I couldn't help but investigate -- at least just a little.

I drove down to visit -- at 10 a.m., as the e-mail specified. I've left the name of the establishment out -- because what occurred I don't want to cause the business, or the owners, undue harm.

When I arrived, I saw a fish and wildlife truck parked behind a locked gate. A chain link fence was strung around the area, intended to keep the animals in, and people out.

The scene intrigued me, so I came back to the office and did a little research.

Before that day, I didn't know much about chronic wasting disease -- never bothered to find out. I'd seen the occasional reference in Field and Stream, or Outdoor Life, but until that note came in, I never pursued it.

Someone else's problem, I'd thought.

Though the disease started in Colorado and Wyoming, it has gradually spread east. It is fatal to deer and elk, like mad cow disease, and there is no known treatment or vaccine. To put it in context, it is similar to AIDS or malaria or any one of a number of human diseases, only many times more contagious.

Nose to nose contact between deer is all it takes for transmission.

According to Maine's chief deer biologist Jerry Lavigne, the disease would most likely arrive in Maine on the bed of a truck hauling domestic deer into the state, which are at high risk due to constant, close contact in penned areas.

The Department of Agriculture has called for a moratorium on interstate domestic deer transport, but deer are still imported illegally, said Lavigne.

"We're taking all possible precautions to prevent the introduction or spread of this disease," he continued.

Some believe it's only a matter of time, though.

"Chronic wasting disease is transmitted from deer to deer by contact with body fluids, saliva, urine and feces," he said. "Deer dispersal from one area to another is also a risk.

He pointed out that the closest infected populations are still far away -- in Wisconsin and Illinois. Right now, they pose no threat. Deer simply don't travel that far. But if it got closer, say New York, or New England, Maine would be threatened.

"It is without question the largest problem in wildlife management in America today. If it were to arrive in this state it would be devastating. If you can't eat your deer, you won't hunt them," said Keel Kemper, local state biologist in Sidney.

Lavigne cautioned that there is no scientific evidence to suggest that chronic wasting disease can affect humans, but likewise admitted there's nothing that says it doesn't, either.

That fear of the unknown has kept Wisconsin hunters out of the field. According to the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, hunters in certain counties of Wisconsin basically abandoned deer hunting for a time there, and only now are starting to come back, as the problem has come under control. Many still won't hunt for fear of contracting the disease.

Imagine if, next November, Mainers couldn't go out and hunt deer, like we always have? It could change our hunting tradition forever.

"Our ability to manage deer would be severely limited if it came to our state," Lavigne said. The fear, he said -- real or perceived -- would likely keep hunters out of the field.

Though the most likely avenue for the arrival of the disease is via domestic deer, Lavigne said there are still precautions hunters can take in the field.

Deer attractants, made from deer urine, come largely from domestic deer and are still not certified disease-free. He said not to use them on the ground.

"Better to hang deer lures above their reach. Never give them access to it," he said.

He also said that hunters should bring only meat and antlers -- and no bone or brain tissue -- into the state from infected areas like Wisconsin, or the western states, since the disease travels with carcasses, and particularly the brain, spinal column, spleen and eyes.

"The proteins {that make up the disease} are resistant to temperatures up to 800 degrees Fahrenheit, resistant to rot . . . Potential contaminations in the environment can last for years and years," he said.

Once it arrives, it's a tough disease to shake, he said, so everyone should be taking precautions -- hunters, deer farmers and biologists.

Odds are, the deer that biologists tested last Tuesday will come back negative for the disease, like the hundreds before it.

Let's hope so.

Dave Sherwood -- 621-5648

dsherwood@centralmaine.com