bluetongue - midges dance a dance of destruction

Yesterday evening I watched as clouds of midges danced in the golden rays of the setting sun outside the kitchen window. I tried to take a photo of them. This is the result.  Fireflies?  Perhaps.  Fairies?  Possibly.  Dancing debris from a fire?  Could be.  But midges?  No!

dancing cloud

Midges bring with them a sinister reputation. The more so since I’ve heard this disquieting news through the Farmers Weekly.   Many farmers, with animals already stressed by the dire weather, believe rumours that if vaccinated against bluetongue disease they might fail to breed.  FWi reports “The doubts over vaccinating were reflected at Penrith livestock market which reported that of 6000 mules through only two batches of ewes were vaccinated”.

The uptake of the vaccine has been so low in the North of England that only one in five livestock farms is protected.

A Cumbria suckled calf producer is quoted as saying “I’ve decided to leave my vaccine in the fridge until the spring. I want my cows safely in calf and a crop of calves on the ground before I start to jab.”

Chief veterinary officer Christianne Glossop reports that the uptake of vaccine in Wales has been disappointingly low. FWi quotes Alun Edwards, a Welsh farmer and Farmers Union of Wales office holder, as saying producers who resist vaccination to be “bloody idiots”.

I can only speak from my own experience.

I vaccinated in late May as soon as the vaccine was available in Devon. My bull had only been running with the cows for a couple of weeks before I vaccinated and as far as I know, to date, all cows and heifers I would expect to be are in calf. I had the most vulnerable animals PD (pregnancy diagnosed) when I was bTB testing the other week and they are 2½ -3 months in calf.

Despite the weather, and vaccination, my lambs have grown well and have killed out at a good average weight of 15-16kgs – Whiteface Dartmoor lambs give a small to medium size carcass. The tups go in with the ewes at the end of next week, so I will soon see how that goes.

I urge farmers to think really carefully about the consequences of not vaccinating. If your animals contract Bluetongue, even if they don’t die (with up to 70% mortality in sheep) they will suffer horrendous consequences. Abortion, stillbirth and neonatal mortality are increased with survivors suffering from infertility, depleted lactation and chronic weight loss. These things are a certainty. I know vaccination’s an added cost in a year that’s bleak, but the consequences, emotionally and financially, will be a hundred times worse with the disease.

For immediate up-to-date information on bluetongue and the various forms of available vaccination in the UK, and on the continent, follow this link to Warmwell.

Mr Edwards also questioned the sanity of importing livestock from infected areas following the first cases of bluetongue found in imported cattle on a Denbighshire farm.

So do I. So do I!

death dance?

saved by gaia?

is gaia really saving us?

“It’s Gaia.”

“What is?” I ask

“What’s happening at the moment. With the weather.” Robert stares intently between furiously working windscreen wipers as he negotiates a mini flood swooshing across the lower section of our lane.

“How’s that?”

“Well, it’s quite simple really. She, Gaia, knows the planet’s in deep shit with climate change. So she’s rectifying it.”

We skid on a patch of liquid mud; an oozing amoeba from a waterlogged gateway.

“Yes, she thought about it and decided if she rained on the earth continuously she would cool it down, and… as she’d be using the water from the sea to make the rain, so she’d be compensating for the rising sea levels! You see – two birds with one stone.” He grins across at me “Simple.”

I chuckle, “I like that! That actually makes me feel a whole load better. Positively joyful, almost, about rain. No, perhaps that’s gong a bit far, but it’s a good angle!”

It was yesterday evening, and we’d decided on a sudden impulse to drive into Okehampton to see Mamma Mia. It’s been a heck of a week. We needed an injection of pure unadulterated, joyful, feel good nonsense. Sun, colour, beautiful people, singing, dancing and a happy ending.

The best bit of news. The cows went clear on their TB test reading this Thursday. My worst fears were unfounded, and even the vet was overjoyed. She said it’s so unusual to get a clear test nowadays.

The not such good news; we’ve had to bring the cows in.  The land gave up. Do you know the herd has only been out for four months this year? I hope that by bringing them in we’ll save the grass and land from being ruined; and maybe, if we have a bit of dry, sunny weather, they will be able to go out and enjoy a mellow autumn.

to cull or not to cull - part 2

I began writing this in response to comments in ‘cull or not to cull’, but decided to publish it as a post in its own right. I have researched, read about and discussed the problem of bTB at length - with vets, farmers, scientists, ecologists, conservationists, people living, but not working in the countryside and those that do, city dwellers and politicians. I could give facts, figures, excellent examples and analogies for and against both sides of the argument. Personally I am, of course, subjective…I have a herd of cattle I care about hugely and are at risk; I also have a passion for wildlife. And I have to make a living from my work.

The question of whether or not to cull badgers is a complex one. It ain’t half as easy as many people make out. Quite simply, it’s not black and white. The science is uncertain, the risks are large, and we are dealing with emotions as well as facts. If we are going to find away forward, it will depend on us being open-minded, listening to each other and respecting each others’ values. Above all, we must be prepared to move our positions, to get off our high horses, to let our eyeballs settle back into their sockets. Far too many of us are entrenched: a position, for or against, has been taken, and that’s the end of it. If we are to get on top of this disease, for the benefit of all - people, cattle and badgers - we must start to pull together, use what evidence there is, consider the practicality of the various options open to us, and reach consensus on the way forward. It won’t be perfect and certainly won’t be easy, but it’ll be the best we can do.

we are c….!

Yeay, yeay, yeay! We’re clear!
I’m at the top of the roller coaster…wow! Got through it again.
Threw my stick on the ground, punched the air and hugged the vet.
A reprieve of six or twelve months, depending on regulations.

bTB skin testing

Our cattle were skin tested for bTB today. The first stage that is.

Now we wait seventy-two hours (Friday) when the vet returns for the second stage.
This waiting is the worst part. I used to torture myself by trying to feel the lumps on the cattle’s neck. Now I try to avoid any eye contact with the area.

testing time(s)

Well, this is it.
Not a week I’m looking forward to.
It’s bTB testing time…again.
I began gathering up the cattle yesterday, so they are on the home farm, and easily accessible to move into the yard on Tuesday.
I hate it. I worry.

bTB - the scourge

I wrote the last post to illustrate the sense of hopelessness the majority of farmers feel faced with the dilemma of cattle TB.

I sense, also, there’s a common feeling that farmers take delight in killing badgers. This is not so, it is wildly off the mark. The truth is that farmers feel a growing sense of helplessness and were hoping for some light at the end of the tunnel when the Independent Scientific Group’s (ISG) report was published. Now all they have on offer is yet further increases in cattle movement restrictions and more severe culling regimes for cattle…hardly a solution. The fraught headlines following the publication of the ISG Report last week reflected farmers’ huge sense of frustration. We are people who like to get on and take action; practical folk used to being able to solve problems ourselves through direct action.

TB…the end of cattle farming?

TB – Bovine Tuberculosis…
TB – Tests…
TB – Strikes a panic cord…
Every year - I collect up my cattle from the smallest calf to the largest bull, have them tested and wait three long days for the results.
Every year - I feel a growing sense of impending doom…
Every year – I wait…