Excuse me, are you a farm vet?

“Isn’t it all just about rectal examinations?”

Well, it is true that a section of the work of a clinical farm animal vet involves delving into what RVC stalwart Andrew Madel once described as ‘the best place to be on a cold day’. It is somewhat short of the whole story though.

Working with people

As a farm animal practitioner, I consider the work I do as a cog in the wheel of the farm business. I maintain my best work is often done away from the livestock, around a kitchen table, crowded into the farm office, or even possibly ‘zooming in’ with the farm owner, the farm manager, the herdsperson, or the shepherd.

In this environment we can figuratively and literally get away from the bovine faeces and focus on the priorities, aspirations, and challenges of the farm. Being a part of, and accurately presenting oneself in this relationship, is key to the success of being a farm animal vet. I would argue it’s at least as important as that last difficult calving, or the success rate of your displaced abomasum surgery.

It’s true that achieving this position can take time, but what relationship worth anything at all was founded without the passage of time? It is also true that the people you are sitting down with bring their own unconscious biases to the table, along with their life experience, but what human interaction is ever undertaken without these?

What I suppose I am getting at, is that I believe that what farm vets do to contribute to a countryside where British Food Fortnight is even a thing, is relationships.

Benefits of good relationships

We might feel like we are the advocates of animal health and welfare in those environments, but we are not advocating into an environment of challenge. Identifying and meeting the needs of the farm business whilst improving health and welfare is a win for us all. Livestock, farmer, and vet all benefit from the strength of this bond, and the peculiarities and qualities that we each bring to it.

I have a fond memory of approaching an unexpected and unexplained BVD problem in one of the herds I helped support. The farmer was clear – we want BVD back out of the herd as quickly and as confidently as we can.

The animals were clear – we don’t like living with any BVD cows, they make our calves sick and are harming our population.

I was clear – we have an approach, it fits with your aspirations, and I am confident that we can clear your BVD cases from the herd with the minimum of disruption.

It is arguable that this was a greater contribution to the net zero aspirations of that farm than any amount of sick cow treatments might have been. Arguable also that it was the greatest contribution I made that year to the profitability of the farm. What, though, is most abundantly clear is that it drew on the human bond between farmer and vet and pitched us together, against our common foe, the Pestevirus.

A thank you

Ultimately, what I would like us all to consider as we enjoy the fruits of the labour of our farmers and growers during British Food Fortnight, is the humans behind the label. The grafters who are milking cows whilst most of us slumber; the technicians who keep the combine running for many years more than there might be any reasonable expectation of its survival; the observant, monitoring the stock they keep daily for signs of ill health or ill thrift; and the calculators, quantifying frequently how to manage the market fluctuations and ensure a viable business remains to give us each day, our daily bread.

Thank you to all those people – I am privileged to walk among you.