Meningeal Worm?
December 4th, 2013 · 1 Comment · Posted in farming
My wife calls them rats with long legs. They devastate the garden. They spread Lyme disease. Now here’s another reason to hate deer: meningeal worm.
Ever heard of meningeal worm? Neither had I, until our 8-month-old girl goat started limping. First it was the right leg she was favoring. We thought she’d been stepped on or kicked by a bigger animal. Then she started limping on the left leg. That seemed to heal. But within a matter of a couple of days she started dragging both legs and was having trouble standing upright.
I did some quick research on the internet, then called my sheep mentor, Ashley. She confirmed my fears. “Meningeal worm,” was her immediate response. “My goats had it last year. You need to call the vet.”
So that’s what we did.
This particular worm doesn’t affect the deer. They just carry it around, leaving the worm’s eggs in their feces for slugs to eat. Other grazing animals like goats and sheep come along and eat the slug. The eggs turn into larvae, but instead of passing through the intestinal track of the sheep or goat, the larvea wander off into the spinal column and start causing damage. The irritation and swelling around the nerves results in weakness in the legs, particularly the hind legs. Eventually paralysis and death can result if not treated. Apparently, alpacas suffer the most.
But here’s the kicker: There’s no way to make a positive diagnosis of meningeal worm without performing a spinal tap. The symptoms mimic rabies, for instance, or spinal trauma or mineral or vitamin deficiencies. But the most likely culprit is meningeal worm.
So the vet arrived, examined the goat and began a course of treatment consisting of powerful medicine administered subcutaneously to kill the meningeal larvae, plus a shot of anti-inflammatory, plus an oral dose of de-wormer. He left vials of the medicines for us to continue the treatment for the rest of the week.
There’s no guarantee it will work, or that the goat, Tanner, will fully recover. Of course, if she can’t stand, she can’t breed. What dumb luck that she would find a slug while grazing our pastures–if that’s in fact what happened.
For her part, Tanner seems to be taking it in stride. She makes no complaint, but gamely negotiates the goat enclosure, feeding on hay and grazing the various grasses and weeds that have now turned brown in the wintry clime. She wobbles over to the water bucket for a drink, and finds her way back into the goat shed at night to sleep.
We feel bad for her. Our fingers are crossed for a full recovery.
I have no recollection of seeing the Disney deer movie as a child so I don’t anthropomorphize the rats with long legs. Feel free to take out Bambi’s mother, and Bambi while you’re at it!