Tag: Conservation Medicine

From smallies to sea birds: My Conservation Medicine journey of discovery

In this blog post, Fiona Greco, who graduated from the Conservation Medicine programme in 2019, captures the essence of her transformation from a small animal vet to a professional working with some of the “big” conservation challenges we face. Fiona tells of her disillusionment with practice, her decision to study on the programme and how this has led her to pursue doctoral studies on how Highly Pathogenic Avian Influenza is affecting the internationally important sea bird colonies our island nation is blessed with.

From small animals to birds via fish…

On reflection, I had a fairly linear journey for an animal-obsessed child into veterinary medicine, and I never really considered that I would do anything other than small animal clinical practice. Finding myself five years post-graduation and neither comfortable nor fulfilled in that role was bewildering. While increasingly struggling with anxiety in day-to-day practice, I developed an interest in the topics of One Health and population medicine. These are not overly prominent in the everyday role of a small animal clinician but somehow they spoke to me.

It felt huge admitting that clinical practice wasn’t the best fit for me, but having always been passionate about learning I started actively looking for opportunities to develop in a different direction. The MVetSci Conservation Medicine degree stood out as an ideal opportunity to explore health on a bigger scale, and to rediscover that childhood passion for wildlife and the environment.

Within a few weeks of the Masters programme, I knew I had made the right decision. The strangest things stick in your mind, but there was a moment early in the course when reading about Nipah virus, wildlife and agriculture that I thought yes, this is what I’m interested in! Those introductory modules really sparked my interest in the infectious diseases of wildlife, particularly in the interplay between wildlife, environmental change and anthropogenic causes.

The programme itself is diverse and well-paced, allowing me to further explore epidemiology and wildlife disease intervention, and highlighting contemporary conservation challenges. Alongside infectious disease, I also gained a particular interest in translocation as a conservation method and this led me to conduct a literature review on disease risk analysis in the translocation of fish for my final year dissertation. The Conservation Medicine programme team were excellent in encouraging my interests, and I graduated knowing that I wanted to continue in my exploration of disease challenges in wildlife.

Further study beckoned

Soon after graduation I applied, and was accepted for, a PhD project advertised via the Edinburgh Earth, Environment and Ecology Doctoral Training Partnership (E4 DTP) in conjunction with the UK Centre for Ecology & Hydrology (UKCEH). This project aimed to assess the impact of environmental change on host responses to infection and disease, focusing on European shag seabirds on the Isle of May National Nature Reserve (NNR), which lies in the Firth of Forth, close to Edinburgh. This incredible island plays home to important breeding sea bird populations. The Isle of May Long-Term Study (IMLOTS) forms part of UKCEH’s network of long-term monitoring sites for detecting effects of environmental change, particularly climate change.

The European Shag (Gulosus aristotelis) is one of six intensively studied species breeding on the Isle of May off the Fife Coast.

The Isle of May is a magical place to conduct fieldwork

Now in my last six months, it’s difficult to summarise this incredibly diverse, demanding and extraordinary PhD. I’ve spent an incredible three months a year for the last three years living amongst a diverse wealth of seabirds on the Isle of May, returning to the lab or office for the interim nine months. Initially focused on the links between migration and nematode burden, my direction of research was significantly influenced by the emergence of High pathogenicity avian influenza (HPAI) virus in UK seabird species part way through my PhD. Sharing a home with such characterful individuals while AIV devastated seabird populations across the UK and Europe stirred both an emotional and academic response, and I have spent the remainder of my project dedicated to research on this subject.

Admittedly, the PhD experience has been a significant learning curve, not only in unfamiliar aspects of statistical analysis and modelling but in setting my own pace and research goals in the face of continually evolving disease challenges. A background in clinical practice certainly has its advantages though, not only in the practical aspects of handling or sampling, but particularly in terms of resilience, flexibility, and communication. Despite the challenges, it has also been hugely rewarding, learning from an incredible team of researchers and field staff and practically applying skills in a true wildlife disease context.

Any initial apprehension at leaving clinical practice has diminished with the knowledge that I can truly utilise hard won veterinary skills within disease ecology, and apply these to any future role within Conservation Medicine and disease investigation. The Conservation Medicine course gave me the confidence to step outside of my pre-conceived idea of a veterinary career, and I would fully recommend it to anyone wishing to explore health challenges in our increasingly altered environment.

Fiona conducting field work for her PhD

Puffins and guillemots are two of the other species studied on the Isle of May

Further Information

To read more about the Research Group that Fiona is working with please visit the Behavioural Ecology in Animal Populations webpage.

 

 

Being a conservation vet in challenging times

In this wonderful blog post from one of our current students, on the MVetSci programme in Conservation Medicine, we learn a little about what it is like working on the front-lines of rhino poaching. Jennifer shares with us what has led her to become a conservation vet and why she cares so much about making a trauma-informed contribution to nature conservation. As she does so, she helps us to understand the extent to which Conservation Medicine is becoming an interdisciplinary field and, in this instance, how it is learning from the field of Collective Trauma Studies. Jennifer has chosen to focus her research for her dissertation on the need for trauma awareness in rhino poaching and why trauma awareness is essential if we are to sustain ourselves in the interdependent work of conserving nature and healing ourselves. We hope you enjoy reading about the horizons her studies and work are helping her explore.

 

Being a conservation vet in challenging times

(Jen Lawrence)

“I tell you this

to break your heart,

by which I mean only

that it break open and never close again

to the rest of the world”

(From the poem Lead by Mary Oliver)

A landscape of possibility - a sandy path running forward to a distant horizon in the African bush.

Figure 1: A landscape of possibility

I write to share my heartfelt journey of living and working as a conservation vet in South Africa and how this is continuing to shape the person I am. I am nearing the end of my dissertation year on the Masters in Conservation Medicine programme. Through what follows, I share with you how I am continuing to widen my circle of caring and deepen my connection to myself and Mother Earth. I hope that in sharing this, you may consider how we might all allow our hearts to break open to this world.

It is no secret that the world we humans have constructed and know is unravelling at an overwhelming pace. We only have to look outside and see how we have transformed landscapes and ecologies, leaving a wake of destruction and painful loss. Wild spaces are diminishing, and wild beings are more unwittingly entangled and lost in the complexities of how we are shaping this world. Turning away is easier than facing the suffering and so we continue to sleepwalk through life. This only prolongs the pain and constricts our ability to truly feel love and joy at being alive. As a conservation vet working on the front-lines of wildlife conservation and rhino poaching in South Africa, I acknowledge my grief and personal suffering as I continue to witness the loss of our natural spaces and species. Whenever I find myself facing suffering head on, my awareness of how necessary it is to break our hearts open deepens. It is at times like this that I truly remember who I am, and who we are in the intricate web of life.

Figure 2: The author tending to a traumatised orphan rhino

How my personal journey is breaking my heart open

I am relatively new to the conservation space. In 2021 I moved back home after several years in the UK working in small animal clinics, and started my conservation journey in 2022. In 2023, I took up a full-time position with African Wildlife Vets which has put me in the heart of the African bush. In this time, I have come to understand what it means to be passionate, heartbroken, inspired, humbled, grateful and in awe. When I started out, I already felt that my purpose was rooted in my connection to Mother earth, and that I am only one small thread weaving through the complexities and challenges that we face. Little did I know what an impact this space would have on me. Living with nature as I do now has given me more space to connect and delight in the wonders of life; it has also brought me closer to the pain and suffering of beings who were here long before us. Standing with the shattered body of yet another rhino whose life was ruptured by the brutality of greed, I bear witness to the collective heart break of those present. Watching how another wild dog limps along, with a wire snare cutting deeper into her body, terrified, confused and in pain … and how she is held collectively by her pack, courageously trying to keep her alive. Feeling the sigh of relief when another black rhino, who has unknowingly wandered into unwelcome human populated territory is spotted and brought back home. Seeing the confusion and fear on the face of an orphan rhino as we try and bring him to safety and witnessing the dedication and commitment of those looking after him.

Figure 3: Recognising our interconnectedness

Threading through these stories is a depth of suffering and some may say a sense of hopelessness at what continues to unfold. This is the stark reality of the challenges we face. There is another element that I want to invite into this space; it is easy to get so wrapped up and spiral into despair and there are times where I catch myself doing exactly that. Allowing myself the space to mindfully move through the pain, I reflect on what I am being taught by nature herself each time I am gifted an opportunity to work with her. Early on I made a commitment to not only serve her, I also wanted to learn from her. Robin Wall Kimmerer describes how knowledge and learning happen through a respectful and reciprocal interaction with all forms of life on earth, not only human (Wall Kimmerer, 2021). Her words have encouraged me to step beyond the confines of my mind and to patiently observe and absorb the mysteries of nature and how they relate to my own life. I have come to appreciate that I am part of a deeply connected community and that we are just as complex and vibrant as the landscapes and beings with whom we work. I have learnt what humility truly means, being outwitted, and outsmarted on several occasions by hyena and wild dogs. I have witnessed how deep the connection runs between a mother and her young. I have witnessed the arrival of the next generation of young antelope and shared in their joy and delight as they playfully danced together in the day’s fading light. The construct of certainty begins to dissolve, leaving space to welcome in the slow, flowing pace of nature.

Figure 4: Pausing to appreciate the marvelous beauty of nature

This slow, flowing pace continues to be swept up by a sense of urgency of what we face on a continuous basis – the rapid decline of biodiversity and the urgent need to protect it. This comes at an emotional and physical cost to passionate and dedicated conservationists who have been facing this suffering for much longer than I have. Hearts continue to break; tough outer armour is wrapped around more tightly protecting an inner tenderness that has been fragmented by bearing witness to the suffering and loss. I have come to know this heart break personally and by listening to colleagues reflecting on their experiences. This led me to focus my Masters dissertation on the need for trauma awareness for those working on the frontline of rhino poaching. As my project has progressed, I have come to understand from first-hand experience how necessary it is to become more trauma informed and aware. Ignoring the fracturing of our emotional landscapes leaves us lost and more afraid than ever. In an interview with Emergence Magazine, Joanna Macy describes how despair is a form of profound caring, and when we tend to it and acknowledge it, we can transform it and turn towards action (Emergence Magazine, 2018). Without facing the heart break, we will not be able to break our hearts open to live in a more compassionate and tender communion with all of life.

References:

Emergence Magazine. (2018). Widening Circles– with Joanna Macy. [online] Available at: https://emergencemagazine.org/interview/widening-circles/ [Accessed 6 Feb. 2024].

Oliver, M. (2017). Devotions: The selected poems of Mary Oliver. New York: Penguin Press, p146.

Wall Kimmerer, R. (2021). Gathering moss: A natural and cultural history of mosses. London: Penguin Books, p82.

 

On the trail of cats and stars

Guest post by Beatriz Alves.

“One day, you will write a book”, my dad often told me. I can still hear him say that every time I write. I can hear it now, as I sit here, my cat on my lap, writing this blog. Some things are just born with you, they are a part of you, even if you don’t recognise them. I don’t write that often (not nearly as often as I should to fulfil my dad’s prophecy), but, when I do, I feel like I really have to do it. When I applied for the MVetSci Conservation Medicine, it felt just like that, like I really had to do it. When I started the course, I had not realised how much of it was already a part of me, how much I would identify with the values and concepts of conservation medicine and one health. As a child born and raised in the second biggest city in Portugal, I always had this nagging feeling that I didn’t quite belong there… One of the earliest memories I have from my childhood, is asking my parents to wake me up in the middle of a night when a meteor shower was going to take place. They did as I asked. I was so excited, all wrapped up in my blanket, standing in the middle of the street, looking up… But, as it turns out, it is also one of my most disappointing memories, as I did not see one single shooting star. Because you just can’t really see the night sky in the centre of a big, bright, smoggy city…

I lived there for many years, I went to school and became a veterinary surgeon in that very same city. Unfortunately, vet school did not teach me about all the different paths a vet can take, being very focused on clinical practice, particularly small animal practice.

And so, feeling like I didn’t have much of a choice at the time, I became a small animal vet. But very shortly after starting my first job at a local practice, I realised that, once again, I did not quite belong there… It is not a nice feeling to have, especially when it has, in one way or another, been following you your whole life. However, it is an extremely useful feeling to have, because, if you trust it, it makes you move, it makes you change. And it can lead you to places you did not expect to go to, it can lead you to the right places (even if you don’t realise that at the time). Less than a year after I started working, I decided to quit my job, without really having a plan in mind. Would I try a different practice (maybe the problem was that one…)? Would I do a PhD (I actually wrote a proposal for a small animal clinical research project, which, thankfully, never went very far from my laptop…)? Or would I just try something different? I searched and explored and, eventually, something came up that triggered a little spark in me… A volunteer program had just opened, to join the ethology team at the recently developed Iberian Lynx Breeding for Release Centre (CNRLI), in southern Portugal (Lynxexsitu). What happens when you add a lifelong love of cats (of all shapes and sizes), a will and a need to try something new and the prospect of a two-month period in beautiful sunny Algarve’s countryside? Well, you consider all the pros and cons (always make a list of these, particularly highlighting the fact that you won’t be making any money) and, on that very same day, you send your application. I was accepted and I went to CNRLI with the plan of staying for two months. However, the volunteering turned into an internship, the internship into a job, and I ended up staying for two and a half years.

Iberian lynx check-up at CNRLI.

Being involved in a wild felid conservation project was an extraordinary experience, and it made me realise so much of what I already felt but didn’t quite know. This was what I really wanted to do. But I knew nothing about it… Vet school does not prepare you for this type of work. So I decided to move to the UK, where working conditions were better, to go back into small animal practice and look for an opportunity (a post-graduation course or a masters) that would allow me to learn more about how to be a conservationist as a vet.

Three years later, I enrolled in the MVetSci Conservation Medicine programme. The comprehensive and interdisciplinary approach of conservation medicine fascinated me from day one and is now intrinsically a part of my life and the way I see and interact with the world around me. During the course, I had the opportunity to meet incredible people, from all over the world (the highlight having been the three week IWAH – Interventions in Wild Animal Health course, at Sariska Tiger Reserve, in India. Despite so many cultural and personal differences, it was extremely inspiring to realise how we had all been brought together by identical goals and values. The support we gave and received from each other going forward was crucial, particularly since our last year of the course (the dissertation year) took place during the covid pandemic.

Field day during the IWAH course, India.

Fitting my cat conservation passion, my dissertation project ended up consisting of the analysis of disease surveillance data collected by Scottish Wildcat Action, the first national conservation project for the European wildcat in Scotland. This was a wonderful opportunity and one that confirmed my appetite for working in wild felid conservation.

Walking the “Wildcat Trail”, Newtonmore, Scotland.

One thing led to another, one meeting to another meeting, one person to another person, and, once I finished my MVetSci, I was invited to apply for a PhD scholarship in Portugal to continue studying wildcats. After the terrifying process of writing a PhD research proposal (which felt completely above my credentials) and six long months of waiting, I was offered a four-year PhD scholarship.

Now in my second year, I can tell you a PhD is no walk in the park. It is a rollercoaster of excitement, disappointment, motivation, fear, adventure and anxiety. I often have to remind myself why I decided to do it in the first place. However, given the choice, I would do it all over again. It is a completely different experience from the clinical practice work I was used to. I am learning things and acquiring skills I never thought I would (some more challenging than others). I am working with professionals from multiple disciplines (biologists, ecologists, geneticists, zoologists, statisticians and actually very few vets…), thus bringing Conservation Medicine into practice. The PhD is a great opportunity to have contact with different projects and subjects, as long as you are willing to take the opportunities that are presented to you.

European wildcat detected on a camera-trap survey, during my 1st PhD year. Montesinho Natural Park, Portugal.

Looking back, I am grateful for all the little (or not so little) steps throughout my life that have brought me here. After many bumps along the way, I am now working with wildcats and I get to spend time in incredible places in Portugal (Montesinho Natural Park) and the Scottish Highlands (Cairngorms National Park), where I can actually see the stars…

I feel curious and excited (and, at times, a bit scared…) to see what comes next. But wherever life takes me, as long as the night sky is clear, it will be the right place. And maybe I will finally write my book…