Chronic Wasting Disease & Brainworm Lecture & Necropsy Lab

Chronic Wasting Disease & Brainworm Lecture & Necropsy Lab
Thursday, November 30th
5 -7PM @ Animal Health Diagnostic Center

Join ZAWS and Pathology Club for a lecture and lab on Chronic Wasting Disease & Brainworm infections in native ungulates, with Dr. Krysten Schuler and Anatomic Pathology Residents! Lecture will discuss control of these diseases in wild ungulates, and how to collect samples for diagnosis (with specimen demonstration). In lab we will be collecting samples from white-tailed deer specimens so please wear scrubs/lab coat!

Dinner will be served at 5PM in the atrium of the AHDC, followed by a lecture in Show and Tell, and finally dissections on white-tailed deer cadavers on the necropsy floor at 6PM.
If you intend on participating in the lab, you must attend the lecture (we have space for 54 people in the lab).

The lab is open to dues-paying members only! Pay $15 ZAWS dues to Margaret Odom, or $5 Pathology dues to Joann Lam before the event.

The Elephant Diaries, Part 4: Community Cooperation

A wizened, bespectacled man sells bananas by the bushel at a street stall. Across the road, several dozens of people file into a nondescript building. This is where the local government holds town meetings. Today is a special occasion, as the county sheriff has organized a day-long series of meetings, inviting the elephant veterinarians (and the vet student interning with them—yours truly) to preside on this conference. Also in attendance were owners and mahouts representing 30 different elephant camps throughout the province of Chiang Mai.

The meeting agenda was split into different sessions. The morning was dedicated to announcements from the council committee on Chiang Mai’s expectations, standards, and responsibilities bestowed upon its elephant camp owners. The afternoon session was an informative presentation by the elephant vets on EEHV (Elephant Endotheliotropic Herpesvirus). The vets educated the mahouts and owners present on what clinical signs to look for, delineated the virus’ pathological progression, and emphasized the importance of early detection of this serious disease.

After a brief tea break, the vets took the stage once more to discuss the newly formed Chiang Mai Elephant Alliance. The objectives of this organizational body were described as combating both “internal” and “external threats.” The former refers to disease and other risks to animal health, whereas the latter refers to animal rights—not to be confused with animal welfare—activist groups who propagate misinformation and tend to particularly defame mahouts.

The final session was conducted by representatives of a tunnel corporation to discuss a recently approved irrigation project. Beginning next week, they would commence an underground bombing protocol to create a tunnel that would connect two neighboring rivers. Doing so would improve water supply to Chiang Mai—a measure that the townspeople deemed necessary and beneficial.

According to the construction company, the tunnel was projected for completion in two to three years. The initial stage involved creating the actual opening. To achieve that, there would be four months of bombing, once a day, with the bombs gradually increasing in strength. All this talk of explosives conjured graphic war images, but I was assured that the bombs would be detonated at a safe depth. There were no risks of crumbling buildings, landslides, or the earth splitting open beneath us. The bomb site would be well-contained and manifest only as an audible boom and vibrations in the ground—seismic signals that elephants have been postulated to detect and communicate with.

While an enhanced irrigation system that will benefit the people is something to be celebrated, one cannot neglect the hundreds of elephants who also happen to reside in that same locale. Fortunately, that’s precisely why the town council summoned this meeting. The committee recruited prominent members of the veterinary community to weigh in on this very issue: the welfare of the elephants.

In camps located near the bombing site, the vets were tasked with monitoring the elephants at the time of explosion. Given the sensitivity of these elephants to seismic waves, the committee was concerned about the animals’ well-being during the course of this long-term irrigation project. Behaviors we had to watch out for included loud trumpeting, slamming of the trunk on the ground, and stampeding—which would endanger the mahouts and their families living on the camp site. Chronic side effects from months of bombing could potentially develop, such as elevated cortisol (stress) levels and the cessation of eating/drinking. Since this project is ongoing, we have yet to see if any serious chronic health issues materialize. From the bomb trials conducted so far, the only responses we witnessed from the elephants were brief pauses followed by the resumption of eating—nothing concerning!

I was touched that the tunnel corporation entrusted the veterinarians with such consideration and responsibility, making sure we were present at each detonation to observe the elephants’ demeanors. Stories like these stand in such contrast to the age-old tale of “Big Business” pursuing commercial developments at the expense of—and lack of regard for—wildlife and the environment. The inclusivity, thoughtfulness, and involvement of multiple parties (e.g. mahouts, camp owners, vets, council members, town residents, construction workers) reflect how the exemplary members of the Chiang Mai community assembled to address the needs of various stakeholders while still supporting elephant welfare.

This post is written by Elvina Yau and was originally published on her WordPress blog, Elvina the Explorer, on July 28, 2017.

Read Part 1 of the Elephant Diaries here.

Read Part 2 of the Elephant Diaries here.

Read Part 3 of The Elephant Diaries here.

The Elephant Diaries, Part 3: Client Conflict

The office phone rings shrilly. An elephant camp two hours away is phoning in for a clinical appointment. The patient: a 1.5 year-old female baby elephant with bouts of diarrhea. While this chief complaint may not seem very urgent for the typical animal, elephant veterinarians treat it as an emergency case. Both the elephant’s young age and clinical sign of diarrhea point to the likelihood of EEHV (Elephant Endotheliotropic Herpesvirus).

After loading up our mobile clinic van and driving across precarious terrain, we arrived on site at the elephant camp. We were brought to the sick baby elephant and conducted a physical examination, which produced other findings such as facial edema, depression, and hemorrhagic stool. These signs further affirmed the veterinarian’s diagnostic hunch.

Since elephant calves with EEHV can often die within 48 hours of the disease’s onset, the vet urged the camp owner to bring the elephant to the Thai Elephant Conservation Center (TECC) to receive critical care. Located in Lampang, TECC is a government-owned hospital that offers free veterinary services to elephants. Given the cultural reverence surrounding the elephant, the Thai government covers these expenses to provide quality medical treatment to the country’s cherished giants.

Surprisingly, the owner and mahout declined. Due to the patient’s young age, the mother would have to be transported along with her baby to the hospital in Lampang. Weaning does not occur until 2.5-3 years of age, and the staff cited the baby’s potential separation anxiety and stress during transportation as reasons against hospital care. Furthermore, they believed the mother may be pregnant and were concerned that transporting her could pose a risk to the fetus. However, the vet remarked that she had not yet started her next ovulation cycle since giving birth to this current baby, making pregnancy unlikely.

Another complication arose from the camp’s “no chain, no hook” policy—tools that, when used appropriately, are actually necessary for training the elephants to position themselves and be compliant for certain medical procedures. For example, the elephants couldn’t respond to a mahout’s command to lift a limb for foot inspection, stay still for an injection, or open their mouths for a dental exam, complicating our ability to deliver basic care. The lack of training would also pose difficulties in getting the baby and mother to willingly walk into the hospital truck destined for Lampang.

While acknowledging these logistical concerns, the vet continued to stress how time-sensitive the patient’s impending treatment was. Despite his insistence on administering anti-viral therapy at TECC, the camp owner again dismissed the option. He said they wanted to wait and monitor the baby longer, promising to call us the next day with any updates.

The camp had only been around for several years and had only experienced one baby elephant death so far. They had also decided to forgo hospital treatment for that patient, and the cause of death—surely enough—was EEHV. I’m not sure how many baby elephants have to become severely ill for the message to truly hit home with the staff. Furthermore, finances are a common and understandable reason why owners may not proceed with certain treatment options for their animals. However, in this situation, the medical bills would be entirely paid for by the government. Additionally, from a business standpoint, the camp risks losing 1 million Thai baht if the baby elephant dies. Although we mentioned these details to the staff, they were still unwilling to seek hospital care.

I began to feel crestfallen, gazing at the baby elephant as the veterinarian and camp staff continued to debate the issue. The escalating clash of viewpoints—though calmly spoken—made me rather anxious as her chances of survival were being heavily discussed behind me. It was heartbreaking knowing that the baby elephant I once saw gleefully slip and slide in the muddy river, munch on sugarcane stalks with reckless abandon, and toot out trumpet noises through her trunk, I may not see again.

While the vet is the ultimate advocate for the animal, we must also respect the owner’s final decision. Before the empty truck headed back for Lampang, the vet gave some multivitamins to the baby that would help stimulate her immune response. He also instructed that she be temporarily separated from visiting tourists, which may help reduce stress levels that would otherwise not aid her recovery from the suspected virus. We thanked the staff for their time and for calling our mobile clinic to examine their baby elephant, then scheduled a follow-up appointment.

Upon our second visit, we were relieved to find that the baby had been situated away from the tourists and actually appeared better—a rare finding given the rapid downfall of most EEHV cases. The results from her second physical exam improved, as she was less depressed, had better appetite, and exhibited increased ambulation and play behavior. The camp staff also expressed a change of heart and started a chain training protocol with the baby to facilitate any medical procedures she may need to undergo in the future.

What began as client conflict eventually crystallized into compromise. I admired the veterinarian’s composure despite the various frustrations. His persistence, client education on EEHV, and alternative remedies—tempered with respect towards the owner’s stance—contributed in turning a challenging client situation into an instance of communication and conflict management skills.

Read Part 1 of the Elephant Diaries here.

Read Part 2 of the Elephant Diaries here.

This post is written by Elvina Yau and was originally published on her WordPress blog, Elvina the Explorer, on July 26, 2017.

 

AQUAVET: A Quest in Understanding Aquatics in a Very Efficient Timeframe

AQUAVET students in Woods Hole, MA – June 2017.

First, let’s clear the air. Err, water. Yes, you can do surgery on a fish.  No, fish surgery doesn’t happen underwater.

I’m Jason Sifkarovski, a second year vet student interested in zoo and conservation medicine.  Naturally, these encompass aquatic medicine, but it can be tough to find such opportunities within a traditional curriculum.  This past summer, I joined fellow Cornellians, veterinary students, and veterinarians from around the world in AQUAVET®, a month-long course in aquatic animal medicine.

AQUAVET® was first taught in Woods Hole, MA over 40 years ago as a joint venture between Cornell and the University of Pennsylvania.  Today, the course’s faculty boasts an impressive list of dozens of alumni and other professionals who all migrate to its current home at Roger Williams University in Bristol, RI.  I expected my fair share of fish facts, but I was blown away by the breadth of the curriculum.  Invertebrates, birds, fish, reptiles, and marine mammals were all covered; we dove into natural history, anatomy, and physiology before flowing into species-specific disease, diagnostics, and treatment.

Our first lab had us collecting invertebrates in the intertidal zone for viewing under dissecting microscopes. A super up-close sea star is a sight to see!  Oysters, clams, and crabs kicked off the first of our dissections, followed by fish.  Starting the course off with invertebrates and shellfish made me quickly realize aquatic medicine extends far beyond aquariums and conservation. Invertebrates in veterinary medicine may sound fishy, but become much more relevant when considering the billions of dollars wrapped up in shrimp farming alone. Aquaculture’s share in global food production is rapidly rising, and veterinarians will become increasingly important to ensure food safety and sustainability, just as they are for more traditional food production.

For each species group we studied, lectures were followed by diverse selections of specimens for necropsy and histopathology.  Lectures and labs were led by veterinarians in government, aquariums, research and industry, and even private practice.  Each tied their experiences into the topics they discussed, contextualizing the relevance of each species and the current state of medicine.  For example, we realized there were more species of fish in our lab than there are legal antibiotics for fish in the United States.  That’s a sobering thought for a medical professional, but it did hammer home the idea that much work needs to be done in this relatively young field.  By the end of the course, we had necropsied sharks, skates, turtles, crocodiles, ducks, gulls, and more.  That’s a lot to take in for even the most fervent zoologist, but every day felt fresh and reinvigorating.

Beluga whale at Mystic Aquarium awaiting further instruction (or fish).

Despite all the time spent in the classroom, field trips got us outside of our bowls as well.  We explored different types of aquaculture production systems with tours of fish hatcheries, and traveled to the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute to learn about aquatics research, and to conduct necropsies of dolphins and seals – a messy endeavor, but certainly the one I had anticipated the most.  My favorite trips, however, were the aquarium visits.  We performed penguin physical exams at the Long Island Aquarium, a private institution home to one of the world’s biggest reef tanks.  We toured the New England Aquarium, home of the aptly-named Giant Ocean Tank and several floors of exhibits.  Veterinarians at Mystic aquarium brought us along for beluga whale feedings (they’re trained to take a gastric tube for stomach content sampling!) and their reality TV-themed sea lion show, which puts a twist on education and helps visitors connect with, and retain, important messages about conservation.  Given how zoos and aquariums have come under fire for captive marine mammal programs, I was particularly interested in how these institutions conveyed their conservation and educational messages to the public.  These institutions serve to not only provide a safe and healthy environment for their own animals, but also conduct research and lead massive, publicized conservation efforts to provide for those in the wild.  By keeping the public engaged through fun, yet educational, demonstrations like sea lion shows, they slowly but surely help the public feel involved in conservation themselves.

Performing a splenectomy on trout.

The highlight of the course was our surgery lab.  We practiced suturing and dosing anesthesia in the days leading up to the main event: splenectomies and ovariectomies on trout. Since fish use their gills for gas exchange, powdered anesthesia is typically administered to water which may then be washed over the gills and recirculated using pumps; this means the entire fish can be held out of water for the duration of surgery.  We worked in teams to calculate doses, administer anesthesia and analgesia, excise organs, and suture the incision closed.  I quickly learned that fish scales provide a whole new challenge for blood draws, injections, and suturing.

When I arrived at RWU, I anticipated a course focused mostly on captive animal medicine and husbandry with some emphasis on conservation. Four weeks later, however, we had also covered aquaculture, public health, toxicology, private fish practice and trade, and countless other topics.  Of course, each of these topics ties in to conservation, and I never anticipated how many extra tools I would come away with.  In all its breadth, aquatic medicine suddenly felt so much more expansive, yet being taught by so many connected people made it feel accessible and intimate. I befriended terrific students who made me genuinely excited to start each day, and I can’t wait to see how many of these new friends will be teaching the course down the road.  AQUAVET® provided even more than I wanted, both personally and professionally, and it can surely do the same for anyone else willing to get their feet wet.

The sea lion star of the show at Mystic Aquarium in Connecticut.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Jason is a second-year veterinary student at the Cornell University College of Veterinary Medicine. He previously graduated with a Master’s Degree in Microbiology & Immunology from the University of Rochester School of Medicine and Dentistry.  Jason is pursuing a career in clinical zoo and conservation medicine while also maintaining interest in government and policy.

Wildlife Rescue and Rehabilitation in Chillán, Chile

The Andean Condor (Vultur gryphus), is one of the largest flying birds in the world, with a wingspan of around 10 feet. This species is the national bird of Chile and has a near threatened conservation status since its population numbers have been in decline due to habitat loss, consuming contaminated carcasses, and hunting.

Veterinary student Lauren Johnson assists with anesthesia of a young puma.

My name is Lauren Johnson, and I am a member of the Cornell University College of Veterinary Medicine class of 2020. This past summer, with support from Cornell’s Expanding Horizons program, I spent 10 weeks at the University of Concepción in Chillán, Chile. Chillán is a small city, 4 hours south of Santiago, with a traditional open-air market downtown and a picturesque countryside framed by views of mountain ranges and volcanoes. There, I worked with Chilean veterinarians to research milk quality at dairy farms in the region. While my main goal in Chile was to work with cows, I was excited to learn that the university had a wildlife clinic, since during the academic year at Cornell I work as a student technician at the Janet L. Swanson Wildlife Health Center.

The University of Concepción’s Center for the Rescue and Rehabilitation of Wildlife provides medical care and rehabilitation for native Chilean wildlife, with the end goal of releasing the animals back into the wild. The center is small, but has an indoor room with a few cages for patients and six large outdoor cages that allow birds of prey to fly and provide enough space for large mammals like foxes. Most animals are brought to the center by the Chilean government’s Agricultural and Livestock Service (which is also in charge of wildlife and conservation). The most common presenting complaint in patients is fractures due to vehicular trauma.

 

An Austral pygmy owl.

The center is mainly staffed by student volunteers. Each day, a team of a few students signs up to take care of the animals by preparing food, cleaning cages, and administering medications. Thanks to the coordinators of the center, I was able to join the Chilean vet students in taking care of the patients. This gave me a wonderful opportunity to meet some of Chile’s wildlife up-close. I cut up chicken necks for a Magellanic Horned Owl (Bubo magellanicus), a close relative of the Great-Horned Owl we often see at the Cornell wildlife clinic. I dug worms out of the ground for a Southern Lapwing (Vanellus chilensis), a shorebird that is commonly found on fields throughout the countryside and has a bright red spur on each wing used for fighting. I gave medication to an Austral Pygmy Owl (Glaucidium nana) about the size of my hand. I checked on the Andean Condor (Vultur gryphus), which is one of the largest flying birds in the world with a wingspan of around 10 feet. This species is the national bird of Chile and has a near threatened conservation status since its population numbers have been in decline due to habitat loss, consuming contaminated carcasses, and hunting.  One of the most interesting patients was a young puma (Felis concolor) that had been hit by a car. Veterinarians performed surgery on the puma prior to my arrival in Chile, but I was able to assist in anesthesia monitoring for the re-check exam and radiographs to assess healing. After I left, the puma was moved to another rehabilitation center by Chile’s Agricultural and Livestock Service to be evaluated for release.

The pudú, a species of miniature deer native to Chile, grows to a maximum height of 1.5 feet.

In January 2017, wildfires raged across central Chile, destroying hundreds of thousands of acres. The area burned was about the size of the state of Delaware, and many injured wildlife were brought to the University of Concepción clinic. In part due to the recognition of the importance of the center during this crisis, the Chilean Ministry of the Environment recently awarded it a grant to promote environmental education and develop its facilities. One of my favorite patients at the wildlife center was a pudú (Pudu puda). These are a miniature species of deer that attain a maximum height of 1.5 feet. Like the Andean Condor, they are currently designated as a near threatened species by the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s (IUCN) Red List. This individual was a victim of the wildfires, and due to burn injuries was determined to be non-releasable. The Chilean veterinary students working at the wildlife center were dedicated and hardworking, spending their free time on projects like rebuilding, improving, and enriching the animal cages, or planting trees nearby to provide a native food source for future pudú patients. I am excited to see what they will do with the award, and I hope that they continue to be recognized for their efforts.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Lauren Johnson is a second-year veterinary student. She graduated from Wellesley College in 2016 with a double major in Biology and Spanish. She works as a student technician at the Janet L. Swanson Wildlife Health Center at Cornell.

Event: Transboundary Animal Diseases and Wildlife

Transboundary Animal Diseases and Wildlife
Monday, November 13th
4:00PM, LH4

Outbreaks of Transboundary Animal Diseases (TADs) in domestic animal populations cause significant negative economic, trade and/or food security consequences. Several wildlife animal species are the natural reservoirs of the infectious agents causing TADs in domestic animals. This creates significant challenges in the prevention and control programs of such diseases. At the same time, outbreaks of TADs in domestic animal populations frequently “spill over” to wildlife and feral animal populations with significant morbidity and mortality consequences. Early recognition, diagnosis, control and eradication of TADs are some of the most important activities of veterinary professionals all over the world.

This lecture will review some aspects of the most important TADs that have an effect on the health of domestic and wildlife animal populations around the globe.

This event is sponsored in part by GPSAFC and is open to the entire Cornell graduate community.

The Elephant Diaries, Part 2: Field Necropsy

A 50-year-old male elephant and his loving mahout were trekking on the outskirts of a camp site when suddenly, the elephant collapsed to his death. Thankfully, this incident did not occur in front of any visitors, but the mahout was devastated nevertheless.

Given the elephant’s unexpected death, both the mahout and the camp manager wanted answers by means of a necropsy. But when the animal weighs 8,000 pounds and his body lies motionless on a dirt path in the backwoods, how do we accomplish this? Clearly, this elephant was too large and heavy to transport back to the university’s necropsy lab to perform a postmortem examination. Thus, we packed all our equipment into the mobile clinic van and traveled nearly two hours to prepare for our on-site necropsy.

When we arrived, we saw three monks circled around the elephant in prayer. Platters of food were laid painstakingly on the ground, as the monks continued their intimate ceremony in a cloud of incense. This cultural custom involves blessing the deceased elephant in order to send its spirits into the sky. During this time, the mahout gave us a medical history of his elephant, who exhibited no clinical signs prior to his death.

The process of a field necropsy is a very laborious task. Since we had no leading hypotheses about the potential cause of death, we needed to conduct an especially thorough postmortem investigation and take multiple tissue samples from various organs. The procedure would surely take us upwards of 10 hours.

Before beginning the necropsy, we first had to scout out a burial site. Fortunately, we spotted a towering tree 15 feet away. We recruited two excavator trucks to commence digging at the ground underneath. The grave needed to be several meters deep so that the elephant’s remains could be contained in a non-biohazardous manner, unlikely to get uncovered and consumed by wandering pets or wild animals. As I started putting on personal protective equipment, metal claw hands began to scrape into a ground baked hard from the Thai sun.

As the trucks continued pounding into the dirt, a tractor arrived with several motorbikes in tow, bearing chains and tarps. The tarp was laid out on the ground, where we placed our tools and organized a makeshift instrument station on its surface. At the moment, the elephant was located under an intensely hot sun, 15 feet away from the grave still being dug beside the tree. In addition, his body was currently twisted due to the way he collapsed onto the ground. Somehow, we had to both relocate him next to his shaded burial site and re-position his body into proper lateral recumbency.

That’s where the long, thick chains came into play. The chains were tied around the elephant’s limbs at one end, hurled over the tree, then connected to the rears of the motorbikes and tractor at the other end, effectively fashioning a pulley system. In unison, the tractor and motorbikes revved their engines, slowly dragging the elephant’s body inch by inch. After a few minutes of hoisting the elephant along, the tractor’s engine suddenly broke down from the heavy load, at which point they brought in a separate heavy-duty vehicle and maneuvered its crane to help nudge the elephant forward as the motorbikes continued to pull.

Once the grave was dug and the elephant was finally placed in proper position, we were ready to begin the dissection. However, all the prep work itself took roughly four hours. As storm clouds loomed in the distance, the vets and pathologists promptly took their sharpened knives and began their investigation. Plastic rope was threaded through the rim of the elephant’s skin flap so it could be reflected as they sliced through the lateral fascia. As the dissection progressed, the chains were used once again to help lift the limbs for inspection and eventual removal from the elephant carcass.

Tissue samples were handed to me to be photographed, measured, and labeled. I diligently noted gross findings as they were hollered from the vets, who were knelt down in the disemboweled abdominal cavity as they extended their hands deep into the lungs and heart.

Midway, the necropsy became a race against time when a thunderstorm descended upon us. I peered up at the tree, debating whether standing beneath it would shelter me from the downpour or electrocute me from the lightning. The camp owner’s car was parked nearby, and we rummaged through his trunk to find some rain ponchos and mini beach umbrellas. I set up shop on a plot of soil away from the tree, taking refuge under the umbrella as I waited to log in our next tissue sample.

The entire team relentlessly continued to work their way through the elephant carcass. After emerging from the body completely soaked (and not just from the rain, mind you), the vets concluded they had obtained all the necessary samples. The elephant—considerably lighter after being compartmentalized—could now be moved more easily. The crane gently goaded the carcass into the grave and scooped up the previously exhumed dirt to bury its remains. Lastly, we covered the burial site with a layer of limestone powder to help maintain the pH of the soil after the body disintegrates.

Performing an elephant field necropsy is one of the wildest veterinary procedures I have ever experienced. It combines protocol and sheer creativity, is somewhat unorthodox, and requires a concerted effort from 25 people. When resources are limited, time is tight, and logistics are threatened by weather, you can count on veterinary ingenuity and teamwork to get the job done.

Read Part 1 of The Elephant Diaries Here.

Read Part 3 of The Elephant Diaries here.

This post is written by Elvina Yau and was originally published on her WordPress blog, Elvina the Explorer, on July 26, 2017.

Tropical Biology & Conservation Lightning Symposium

Saturday October 21st
10:00am to 3:00pm
Emerson Hall Room 135

The symposium will start with a Keynote by Dr. Steven Osofsky from the Cornell College of Veterinary Medicine, entitled “Wildlife Health in a Rapidly Changing World,” followed by 24 lightning talks by Cornell faculty and students regarding the ecology, health, and conservation of tropical organisms and ecosystems.

The event is open to the public and the whole Cornell Community. If you have any questions, or need any accommodation to attend the event, don’t hesitate to contact us at tbcsymp@gmail.com.

Training opportunity – Smithsonian wildlife courses

Graduate/Professional Training: Smithsonian-Mason School of Conservation

Front Royal, Virginia, USA

The Smithsonian-Mason School of Conservation, a partnership between George Mason University and the Smithsonian Conservation Biology Institute (SCBI), offers a range of intensive, residential short courses hosted in our sustainably-built Academic Center on the grounds of SCBI in Front Royal, Virginia, USA. All courses offer continuing education credits (CEUs) and some can be taken for graduate credit as well. Visit our website (http://SMConservation.gmu.edu) for more details about course content, course costs, and credits earned.

Applications can be completed using our online application system, found on the course webpage. Email us at SCBItraining@si.edu if any questions remain.

 

MCCS 0525: Non-Invasive Techniques and Applications in Wildlife Endocrinology

July 23 – August 3, 2018

The purpose of this course, taught by the experts at the National Zoo’s Endocrinology Laboratory, is to provide theoretical information and practical experience in using endocrine monitoring techniques for assessing reproductive status and welfare in wildlife species, both in captive and wild scenarios. Lectures will cover aspects of basic biology, theory of immunoassay methodology, reproductive endocrinology and stress physiology, and examples of data obtained from in-situ and ex situ studies of wildlife species. Extensive lab work will include demonstrations and hands-on experience in sample (urine and feces) processing and analysis using enzyme immunoassay technology. Computer lab sessions will include basic and advanced data analysis techniques. Participants will also work on independent group projects where they will apply what they have learned and complete a full lab analysis and data interpretation themselves. A comprehensive endocrine training manual will be provided to course participants. Those already enrolled in a graduate program (at any university) can gain 3 graduate credits for this course (additional costs apply for those not residing in VA).

 

MCCS 0523: Practical Zoo Nutrition Management

 

May 7 – May 11, 2018

Roughly 20 out of the more than 200 Association of Zoos and Aquariums (AZA) accredited zoos in the United States employing full time nutritionists, there exists a critical shortage of nutrition expertise at the vast majority of facilities within AZA. Similar institutions outside the US face the same challenges. Many of these institutions care for hundreds and in some cases thousands of different species, all with specific dietary needs that may even vary across seasons and reproductive conditions. Making nutritional decisions for a wide range of species from around the world, and overseeing the daily management of food purchase, storage and preparation is a complex and demanding task which must often be performed with little targeted training. However, the long-term sustainability of an animal collection, and the successful reproduction of breeding animals relies heavily on proper nutrition.

Because of the complexities and extensive experiential learning involved in the profession, this course is not designed “to create a zoo nutritionist in 5 days.” Rather, it will assist interested individuals in gaining knowledge and hands-on experience within one of the oldest zoo nutrition programs in the US. It is designed such that participants will develop an appreciation for a wide variety of topics within the field of zoo and wildlife nutrition, as well as some of the nuances of managing a commissary (food procurement and preparation) operation to support a zoo. This course will be taught by the Head of the Department of Nutrition Science at the Smithsonian’s National Zoological Park (NZP), Mike Maslanka. He will be joined by members of his staff at NZP as well as other professional zoo nutritionists from AZA facilities and appropriate wildlife professionals. These instructors represent some of the most experienced zoo nutritionists, commissary managers, and researchers in the field of zoo and wildlife nutrition.

Event: Infectious and Non-infectious Diseases of Nonhuman Primates

Infectious and Noninfectious Diseases of Nonhuman Primates

Lecture by Keith Mansfield, DVM, Dipl. ACVP, Novartis (Cornell DVM 1987 ) and Dr. Andrew Miller, DVM, Dipl. ACVP.  Assistant Professor, Cornell University.

Saturday October 28, 2017 from 8:30 a.m. -4:00 p.m. Lecture Hall 3, CVM

Light breakfast and lunch provided by CARE [Cornell Center for Animal Resources and Education] and Anatomic Pathology [Biomedical Sciences]

Please RSVP to Dr. Mary Martin (mem235@cornell.edu) or Dr. Andrew Miller (andrew.miller@cornell.edu)