(UN)NATURAL RESOURCES
State hunters lose fear of CWD
DNR revives donating deer from infected areas to food
pantries
By Brian McCombie
Vern Liegel got the call from the state Department of Natural Resources
in January 2004, telling him the deer he’d shot last November had tested
positive for Chronic Wasting Disease, or CWD. A postal carrier from Spring
Green, Liegel, 65, says the DNR employee asked what he’d done with the
meat. “We ate it, I told him. We made it into sausage, and most of it was
gone by then.”
Is he worried about having eaten the better part of a CWD-infected
deer? Angry that the DNR, which recommends against this, had taken so long
to inform him?
“Not really,” says Liegel, who doesn’t think CWD represents a
human health threat. The deer, a buck, “was fat, and didn’t look as though
anything was wrong with it. My personal feeling is, we’ve had this [disease]
around for years, and they started testing and found it.”
Many Wisconsin hunters, like Liegel, seem confident CWD isn’t
a human health threat, even though it belongs to a family of afflictions
that includes mad cow disease, which has to date killed at least 130 people
in Great Britain and more than a dozen in Europe. And while the human form
of the always-fatal brain disease is known to have an incubation period
of up to ten years, the passage of two and a half years since CWD was found
in Wisconsin deer without any human cases has apparently put hunters’ minds
at ease.
“I think that, initially, there was quite a bit of paranoia about
human health dangers and CWD,” says DNR spokesperson Greg Matthews. “Over
the course of time, I think people have become more comfortable with the
idea of eating the venison. They’ve been able to do their own research
and discover that, to date, there’s no evidence that CWD can [jump] the
species barrier” between deer and people.
Two years ago, an estimated 40% of hunters in the CWD zones refused
to keep their deer. Today, as the main 2004 deer gun season is about to
start, Matthews says it appears that 90% of hunters will keep or donate
the deer they kill.
Indeed, the DNR itself is donating deer shot in its designated
CWD zones to local food banks, after the deer test negative. Dr. Richard
Olds, who chairs the Department of Medicine at the Medical College of Wisconsin
in Milwaukee, as well as the public health committee for the Wisconsin
Medical Society, is troubled by this.
The tests the DNR currently uses, says Olds, are “not infallible.
They only tend to identify deer with end-stage CWD, so you’re probably
missing earlier-stage cases of the infection.” And while there’s no direct
proof that CWD can infect people, Olds is uncomfortable with claims that
it can’t. “Statements like that are a bit irresponsible,” he says. “We
do not know at this point if people can get CWD.”
Madison activist John Stauber, co-author of Mad Cow U.S.A., is
even harsher: “State officials are knowingly endangering and misleading
the public. The feeding of potentially infected deer should be halted immediately.
I think this just confirms that what the DNR’s really concerned about is
killing more deer and convincing people there’s nothing wrong with eating
deer in Wisconsin.”
In the CWD zones, hunters register the deer they kill and the DNR removes
the heads for CWD testing. Donated deer go to one of five meat processors,
where the meat is deboned and set aside. If the test comes back positive
for CWD, the meat is destroyed. But if the test comes back negative, as
it usually does, the de-boned meat is ground into venison hamburger and
given to local food pantries.
A pamphlet distributed at these pantries explains that the World
Health Organization recommends people do not eat CWD-infected deer, because
it could possibly cause a fatal brain disease in humans. It also says the
available venison is from deer that tested negative for CWD.
James Kazmierczak, spokesperson for the state Department of Health
and Family Services, says his agency has no problem with the DNR donating
deer from the CWD zones to food banks. “The food pantries,” he says, “can
choose to accept or not accept whatever they want.”
Wisconsin hunters have embraced the donation program. The early
October deer hunt, says Matthews, yielded so many donated deer that “four
out of the five participating meat processors have asked us not to send
any more deer for now, because they’re so backlogged.”
Matthews admits the food-bank program is helping the DNR get
over a significant hurdle in its CWD-management plan. Early in 2002, after
the first cases were found, the DNR decided that eradication of deer in
areas with CWD was the best way to combat this disease. Since then, the
DNR has toned down its rhetoric, replacing “eradication” with “herd reduction,”
but still the plan is to kill huge numbers of deer any place there’s CWD.
As with the past two years, the DNR has greatly expanded the
deer-hunting season in 2004 and essentially given out doe permits to CWD-zone
landowners. For this year, the DNR also designated a “Earn-a-Buck” program
in the CWD zones, meaning hunters must take a doe before they can kill
a buck.
But the DNR’s eradication plans have met with hunter resistance.
Again and again, says Matthews, Wisconsin hunters made it clear they weren’t
going to kill deer just to have the DNR dump them in landfills. So the
DNR revived the food-bank program, which was suspended in 2002 and 2003
over CWD fears.
“This is a way to get more deer to be taken in [the CWD] area,”
says Matthews. “The hunters like the idea because they know the animals
won’t be wasted, that they’re going to the needy.”
An article published in the scientific periodical EMBO Journal in 2002
found it was possible for CWD-infected brain materials to convert human
brain materials. Those conversion rates were low, but were only a bit below
the rates at which mad cow converted human brain materials in similar experiments.
“What that data suggests to me,” says Olds, “is that it is more
difficult to get CWD from an infected deer” than it is to get human mad
cow from mad-cow-infected cattle. “But it doesn’t seem impossible.” Olds
advises hunters to avoid even potentially infected deer until scientists
can give a definitive answer. “My family all hunts deer,” he says. “I tell
them to hunt deer out of the CWD zone.”
Stauber, meanwhile, blames the DNR’s assurances that “there’s
no real reason to be worried” for creating an unduly high comfort level
among state hunters.
Take Greg Kraemer. The 25-year-old Spring Green resident wouldn’t
have any problem eating a deer with CWD. “If it looks healthy, we’re not
afraid to eat it,” he says.
Like Liegel, Kraemer believes CWD has been in Wisconsin for years,
maybe even decades, and people have unknowingly been eating infected deer
all along. If people could get the disease, he reasons, it would have become
apparent by now. Kraemer and his family consume between five and eight
deer a year, and deer meat and deer hunting are important parts of their
lives.
“We’re not going to change the way we eat venison,” says Kraemer.
“We won’t. We never will.”
On the Web
Info from state health officials:
dhfs.wisconsin.gov/communicable/communicable/factsheets/creutzfeldt.htm
From state agriculture officials:
datcp.state.wi.us/ah/agriculture/animals/disease/chronic/pdf/venison_safety_2side.pdf
From the DNR:
www.dnr.state.wi.us/org/land/wildlife/whealth/issues/CWD/index.htm
Donated venison pamphlet
uwex.edu/ces/ag/issues/fmd/Donated_Venison_and_CWD.pdf
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