Some of the lab's clients are rather ... colorful. My favorites are the guys that run small beef cow/calf operations. I learned years ago how to schmooze with just about anybody, and some of these crusty old guys can get downright chatty with the right schmoozing. I never fail to learn something new and useful. Maybe I learn a new word, or get more detail about a management procedure. It's always a lot of fun. In fact, I see the time I spend talking to them on the phone or in person as part of my job, not an interruption.
There are two important reasons for this. Firstly, I can always get a more detailed history from them directly than they will ever write down on the submission form. I get them to tell me all kinds fascinating details about how they are managing, or in some cases, mismanaging their herd. And secondly, I'm building their trust in the lab. Building their trust in me and my team's ability to help them solve their problem.
We recently had a guy bring in a couple of young pigs, about 5 or 6 months old. Yeah, I know, pigs aren't beef calves. But this guy was cut from the same cloth. It wasn't my day in necropsy but I always get called when producers show up because everyone in the lab knows that I like to chat with them. I was standing on the dock, looking down into the bed of his truck at two dead pigs. Body condition looked good. They were clean, well kept. But certainly dead. And he was telling me and my colleague that the entire pen of nine pigs was sick. I let him talk on until he mentioned staggering. Ah ha! I asked him, were any of them dog sitting (that means sitting back on their haunches like a dog) or head pressing (that means pressing their head into a corner)? Yes, he said, all of them. Head tremors or seizures? I asked. Yes, that too. Turns out he had some nice videos of these exact behaviors, which he showed me on his phone. How about the water supply? Hoses and spigots still working? Tanks full? Oh, well, yeah, it seems that he did have a bit of trouble with the water supply in that pen when we had a freezing spell a few days earlier. Only that pen affected? Yes, only that one.
They literally teach you about this in vet school: water deprivation leading to sodium toxicity and death in pigs. The videos were magnificent--I had him send them to my work cell right away. The water deprivation leads to an electrolyte imbalance that affects the brain. The neurological signs I asked him about are considered textbook signs of the sodium toxicity.
I was so excited to get this case for us to work up that I never let him feel bad about killing his pigs. I gave him some advice about how to save the remaining pigs, and thanked him for bringing the case. He called me two days later and reported that he had followed my advice and saved the remaining pigs in the pen. With some ingenious sample collection, my colleague and I were able to make a convincing argument that it was indeed sodium toxicity that was the problem. We considered other differentials such as pseudorabies (also called Aujesky's disease) and rabies that could cause the same neurological signs, but we tested for and eliminated the first and rejected the second as reasonable (unlikely to affect an entire pen at the same time). In the end, it was a solved case and a happy client!
At the other end of the spectrum is the old guy that called up a few weeks ago wanting to bring in a calf that had died overnight. He had lost five or six calves in a 24-hour period. My brain was spinning out a list of possible differentials when he said, I think they were shot. Oh, okay, I said, we can take a look and see if that is the case. Odd differential, as I was thinking about things like lightening strike or infectious agents that can kill several animals at the same time. But sure, getting shot is possible too.
So I did the necropsy on this calf and didn't really find much of anything except that it had a lot of intestinal worms. Those absolutely can kill a calf if the parasite burden is high enough, but the calf was in good flesh and it wasn't a definitive finding. I found nothing else that was particularly helpful or diagnostic as to the cause of death. And as is my usual procedure, I called the producer to let him know this. He started yelling at me, saying, I brought that calf in so you could prove it was shot! I told him that there was no evidence that it had been shot. He replied, well, didja skin'em? I paused, trying not to laugh, and said, sir, I did a complete, thorough necropsy and there was no evidence of any projectile trauma in this calf (no, we don't skin animals for most necropsies).
By this point, I have unfortunately seen quite a few animals with gunshot wounds and I am confident in my ability to identify that. Definitely no gunshot in this case. But this old crank managed to get the county sheriff's office involved and they contacted the lab director for more information last week. We sent them the final report and I thought that was the end of it.
But no, no, my year will not end so quietly. This cranky old guy is bringing us another calf today. One of seven more that died last night. He still thinks they are being shot! I'll try again to find a cause of death. I hope this calf tells us a better story, although I suspect that he won't be satisfied with anything less than being presented with the bullet that killed the calf.
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