PASSING IN TASMANIA

 

An old friend of mine, whom I have known for over 35 years, died recently.  He had been a veterinarian in Oakland, California, but was in Tasmania with his wife, Andrea, when the twin towers in New York were hit, 9/11. Of course they could not get back to the USA and the following weeks were fateful and busy ones. Having fallen in love with Tasmania they decided to move permanently there. They bought a house, despite not yet having the necessary visas that would allow them to live in it , as well as a veterinary practice in Sandy Bay (Hobart).

When they could finally return to the US, James sold his practice within a week and their house in two days. They packed up everything they owned and moved to Australia. With a business visa, they could apply for permanent residency and later citizenship.

 For James veterinary medicine was never a routine nine-to-five job with time off for weekends and public holidays. For him being a vet was a way of life, and he was always available to help a sick or injured animal 24-hours a day.

 He was one of only two vets in Tasmania that specialized in birds, and the only one specializing in reptiles. This was wonderful for me as I got to see some rare birds that he was caring for, like the ground parrot.

James also had an interest in an aspect of veterinary medicine that is not always given the recognition he believed it deserves, that of grief and bereavement. Very early on he adopted a holistic approach to treating animals that involved a greater understanding and appreciation of how animals fit into each family’s dynamic, and how that dynamic can soon unravel if the family pet becomes sick.

As I used to say to new vet students, when lecturing at Washington State University,  no animal comes into the vet office alone!

James knew he wanted to be a veterinarian when he was six years-old, and growing up in the US as a British evacuee during World War ll. He never deviated from this youthful decision, but neither did it stop him from also gaining a degree in anthropology, becoming a professionally trained musician, and pursuing a serious interest in ceramics, along the way to studying veterinary science.

His affinity with animals was apparent very early. Whether it was learning to ride horses while still a toddler, being a magnet for stray dogs while walking with his Scottish nanny, or during his regular Sunday visits to Regent Park Zoo, it was soon clear he shared a special relationship with animals.  He received his doctorate from Michigan State University in 1958 and after several months working in the state service, he opened his own veterinary practice in California where he worked for the next 40 years.

James’ childhood interest in wildlife continued throughout his career, and at the Fern Tree property where and Andrea lived, he created both a farm, and a wildlife sanctuary that includes half an acre of land he had donated to the Menzies Research Institute in Hobart, to assist the research effort into the facial tumor disease that continues to ravage wild populations of Tasmanian devils.

Several times in my two weeks with him, I went to the blind to see them.  Also was able to see pups whose mother had been hit by a vehicle. These adorable animals have a bad reputation and are far from devils.

The farm had alpacas, Scottish Highland cattle, chickens, geese, turkeys, Indian runner ducks, two Clydesdale horses, and Wessex saddleback pigs! And it was in the most glorious setting, tropical on one hand but with weather more like our small island of Shaw.  

James felt  that curiosity is one of the most important traits in a veterinarian.

“I look at physicians who are only licensed to practice on one species and we get all the others. Aren’t we lucky?”

And I was lucky to know him!