Shortage of livestock vets worries Pa.

HARRISBURG - When Westmoreland County dairy farmer Rick Ebert desperately needs a veterinarian for emergencies on his 450-acre farm, he can't always count on one getting there in time.

In the last two years, he has lost two pregnant heifers during problem deliveries because his two vets were helping farmers in other counties.

"A main artery was severed," said Ebert, 48, who milks a herd of 80 cows with his brother. "I tried to stop the bleeding, but I couldn't."

With only three veterinarians serving almost 31,000 food-supply animals in Ebert's southwestern Pennsylvania county, he and others have to call in vets from neighboring Somerset County, and those doctors might be working 90 minutes away on farms in West Virginia or Maryland.

Two Westmoreland vets who used to tend to cattle switched to dogs and cats, a more lucrative practice. They followed a trend that is generating concern among agriculturalists.

The explosion in pet ownership has fueled a rapid expansion of small-animal veterinary practices. Treating pets means far better working conditions, climate-controlled environments, short commutes, and the likelihood of not being on call 24/7.

At the 93d annual Pennsylvania Farm Show - the showcase for the state's giant agricultural industry and prize livestock, which ended Saturday in Harrisburg - farm groups and the veterinary community tackled tough questions about the trend's impact on farming in the Keystone State.

They worry that soon precious few country docs will be left to care for dairy cows, beef cattle, swine and sheep.

"The number is dwindling," said Craig Shultz, the state veterinarian, strolling among rows of blow-dried, sparkling-coated cattle in the stanchions at the Farm Show building. "There is an economic force driving it."

He and others say the projected decline in large-animal veterinarians and the numbers of veterinary students choosing that career path could threaten farming and food safety.

"Without an ample supply of vets to treat and care for animals, the animals will suffer," said Louis Sallie, administrative secretary of the Pennsylvania Farm Bureau. "Having vets enables us to identify disease early on, before you get to a point when, for instance, you have an outbreak of mad cow disease."

Only 10 percent of students entering veterinary schools in the United States are choosing to pursue large-animal practice, according to the American Veterinary Medical Association.

"The projected demand for the food supply is an increase of 12 percent of new vets between 2006 and 2016, and there will be a shortfall of new vets by close to half that," said David Kirkpatrick, a spokesman for the association.

In the five counties of Southeastern Pennsylvania, there are 30 food-animal veterinarians to care for about 70,000 animals, compared with 51 in Lancaster County, where the population of food animals is almost 10 times greater. Ten counties scattered throughout Pennsylvania have no food-animal vets, forcing vets in other counties to travel hundreds of miles to examine herds.

The causes are many: economics, working conditions, long commutes, and a widening disconnect between population centers and rural areas.

"More vet students are coming from urban and suburban environments," said Shultz, who grew up on a dairy farm in Columbia County and started out practicing on farms in the northeastern section of the state. "Small-animal practice is more adaptive to their career path than food-animal medicine."

Many vet students graduate with six-figure debts. (The four-year cost of private schools like the University of Pennsylvania exceeds $150,000.) Graduates earn a starting salary of about $50,000 to $60,000 in large-animal practice, compared with $65,000 or $70,000 at a small-animal clinic.

Penn's School of Veterinary Medicine, with its famed New Bolton equine facility in Chester County, has pushed up the number of students focused on large animals. Twenty percent of first-year students this academic year declared their intention to pursue large-animal medicine, up from a low of 5 percent in the 1990s, said the school's dean, Joan Hendricks.

"We've seen a dramatic increase in the numbers of students who say they are committed to rural practice," said Hendricks, explaining that the school has encouraged more prospective students to pursue large-animal medicine. "The challenge is how to make sure they stay there for 10 years."

In addition, most large-animal vets are baby boomers, which means many are or soon will be heading into retirement.

The farm industry and veterinary organizations are looking at a variety of ways to combat the shortage: state and federal legislation that would forgive loans for students who go into large-animal medicine and move to the areas of greatest need, scholarships, educational grants, and support services.

Shultz said the future of Pennsylvania's No. 1 industry and the safety of the food supply was at stake.

"It certainly is an area of great concern for us," he said. "I wouldn't call it a crisis yet, but in the area of food-animal medicine, to meet society's needs there is going to be a growing need for veterinary service."