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Behind the image of a horse brain cell infected with Eastern Equine Encephalitis (EEE) lies a sobering truth: this mosquito-borne virus is far more lethal than commonly understood, and pathologists, virologists, and researchers at LSU Diagnostics are working to better understand and fight it. EEE is found in the eastern, Gulf Coast and north-central regions of the United States, as well as parts of Central and South America and the Caribbean. Horses in areas with dense mosquito populations—such as swamps, coastal marshes, and coves—are at greater risk of contracting the virus. The sedentary “black tail mosquito” (Culiseta melanura) primarily transmits the virus to birds. However, other very active common mosquito species, referred to as "bridge vectors," can transmit the virus from birds to mammals such as humans and horses. "As the summer goes on, we typically have more positive cases as the temperature goes up," says Alma Roy, Ph.D. (LSU 2000), interim director of LSU Diagnostics. Louisiana is no stranger to West Nile virus, but Roy says LSU Diagnostics is seeing an unusual uptick in EEE this year. Though most common in horses, the disease can also strike humans, leading to deadly brain inflammation. In horses, it may cause inflammation of both the brain and the heart. "Necropsy and serological testing at LSU Diagnostics have confirmed at least fourteen positive cases in horses thus far. It's early in the year to see this many. We're seeing some West Nile, but more EEE than West Nile," Roy said. Horses are especially vulnerable to EEE, with mortality rates ranging from 75% to 90%. Survivors frequently suffer lasting neurological damage. Humans fare somewhat better, but the disease remains serious—about 30% of people who develop severe EEE die from the infection. "Many survive a West Nile virus infection, but EEE can be unforgiving. Be careful," warns Dr. Fabio Del Piero, pathologist at LSU Diagnostics and professor at LSU Vet Med. Since treatment is limited and mostly supportive, prevention is critical. Every day, LSU Diagnostics works to make that prevention possible. Roy reminds the public that vaccination and mosquito bite prevention are key: "Horses can be vaccinated. We encourage animals to be vaccinated for EEE and West Nile virus. And for humans, of course, it's the prevention of mosquito bites.” EEE is one of several life-threatening diseases diagnosed by LSU Diagnostics. Our team provides rapid, accurate disease detection through tissue and fluid testing as well as post-mortem diagnostics. LSU Diagnostics also supports statewide mosquito-virus surveillance to protect both animals and people. Together, LSU Diagnostics and LSU Vet Med play a critical role in diagnosing and responding to threats like EEE and West Nile virus — for the health of horses, livestock, wildlife, and the people who care for them. Original article posted here.
LSU Veterinary Teams Recall Courage, Loss, and Lasting Change from Hurricane Katrina Animal Rescues
From that tragedy came transformative change, with new animal evacuation protocols and policies, including the creation of the federal Pet Evacuation and Transportation Standards (PETS) Act, which requires state and local disaster plans to include provisions for pets and service animals. LSU School of Veterinary Medicine played a pivotal role in this evolution. In the days and months after Katrina, LSU Vet Med faculty, staff, and students worked alongside state officials, military units, and volunteers from across the nation to rescue, treat, and shelter thousands of animals. Two decades later, Katrina’s scars remain, but so does the resilience of the people and animals who lived through it. Their stories serve as a reminder that in even the darkest moments, compassion can spark lasting change. Rescue in a War Zone Dr. Jenny Sones (then veterinary student): I had been working at LSU Vet Med for five years when Katrina hit. LSU Vet Med put out an ‘all hands on deck’ call to employees. All of our hospital wards were turned into an ER. We opened our homes to complete strangers who came to help. It was organized chaos. Many animals came to us looking like corpses with a heartbeat because they’d been in the flood waters so long. I worked all day at LSU Vet Med, where we saw the sickest, most injured patients, and worked at Lamar Dixon evenings and weekends. Twenty years later, the images are so vivid in my mind. I took a horse trailer on a rescue mission into New Orleans with two students and a state veterinarian escort one week after Katrina hit. The scene looked like a war zone, helicopters everywhere, buildings burning, gunshot sounds. Every area we saw was looted. The stench was awful. There were people on the overpasses who had been there for a week. We were there to rescue animals. Military, Louisiana National Guard, and police brought the animals to us where our trailer was parked on an overpass. We picked up a few strays on our way out. The animals we rescued were so scared. Some had been in the flood waters a long time and were soaking wet and foul smelling. Their skin was sloughing off and they were emaciated. Amazingly, none of the dogs, cats, or horses were aggressive—maybe because they were in shock or they were grateful. We treated them all at Lamar Dixon, washed them with Dawn dishwashing soap and applied betadine. Sick ones were transported by trailer to LSU Vet Med. They were very dark times and very good times too. We were able to get the New Orleans French Quarter mules out to Lamar Dixon. Their caretaker crew stayed with them. They hooked up the mules, still in good shape because they weren’t in the flood waters, and they gave workers short rides around the Lamar Dixon grounds. It was such rewarding work. We were exhausted but in the best way. It would have been easy to get caught up in the devastation if we didn’t focus on our purpose to help animals. You can’t fix everything, but you can fix what’s in front of you. If you can survive the devastation of Katrina, you can survive anything. From Classroom to Crisis Dr. Jenny Sones (then veterinary student): In August 2005, I was starting my second year of veterinary school at LSU. I had no idea that life was about to change so drastically. School was cancelled, and electricity was out most places except at the vet school. My colleagues set up temporary housing in our study rooms and other places throughout the vet school. We then began to learn of the effects of Katrina on our veterinary species—dogs, cats, horses, and more. These precious creatures were the reason why we studied, crammed, and signed up to endure the rigors of veterinary school. It was time to close the books and help! Although we were not licensed veterinarians yet, we were keen to provide aid in any way we could. I, along with lots of my classmates, volunteered at Parker Coliseum on the LSU campus, where displaced small animals were seeking refuge, and at Lamar Dixon, which became the shelter for large animals and small animals. We spend many hours doing anything we could, cleaning litter boxes, refilling water bowls, changing bedding, administering medications, and assisting the heroic volunteer veterinarians working tirelessly to treat the injured, sick, and rescued. Lots of important lessons were learned during Katrina. Many animals were not reunited with their owners. That's when I learned the value of microchipping to permanently identify animals, gained an appreciation for animal search and rescue, and the value of quick response. (Sones is now CSU Equine Reproduction Laboratory reproduction specialist.) Mapping Rescues by Hand Ashley Stokes (former faculty member): It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I was researching and teaching at LSU Vet Med in 2005. LSU Vet Med stepped up in so many ways. We started receiving calls from citizens and local authorities at the vet school almost immediately after the storm. They needed help with resources—animal rescue, food, and water. They had to leave New Orleans quickly. I particularly remember a call from someone from south of Belle Chase, La., who had left horses, cattle, and two dogs in the house and needed help. It was surreal to see the devastation, houses floating, there in the Delta. We were making real-time decisions to help their animals. They’d lost so much, and for some, their animals were all they had left. We put a paper map of Louisiana on the wall and put pins in the locations that called for assistance. We covered all of New Orleans and surrounding areas, including the north shore and extending west to Baton Rouge. We took the callers’ information and sent teams of staff, students, and volunteers to different locations with donated trailers, hay, water, and other resources for rescue. We continued rescues for months after the storm. We were there for people for the long haul. The whole experience was transformational in my life. What I learned from Katrina became part of my own career and what I continue to do. There were beautiful moments, especially seeing how resilient and helpful people could be. I saw every day how the community came together and were absolute bright lights. Positive came from tragedy. (Stokes is now dean of UC Davis College of Agricultural & Environmental Sciences.) The Boxer on the Third Floor Dr. Neil Henderson (alumnus): When Katrina hit, the Louisiana Veterinary Medical Association sent out a request for help from veterinarians. I got to the Lamar Dixon Center on Day 5 after Katrina hit. St. Bernard Parish was where I spent most of my time helping. It was literally destroyed. One day, while we were making our rounds, a man came running up to me and said that he just remembered that while the storm was coming through—he was on the third story of a building looking out of the window—he noticed a dog swimming around frantically with nowhere to go. He opened a window for it with the hopes that it would swim inside the building to safety. Seven or eight days later, with the temperature well into the upper 90s, the man came up to me and asked me to go into the building to see if I could find the dog. I did not have much hope but went anyway. There, on the third floor of the building, I found the dog, a boxer, alive. She was in surprisingly good shape. The man was ecstatic to see the dog and could not believe that it made it inside the building to safety. I stayed for five days helping animals, and my late father (Dr. Robert Henderson, class of 1977) came after that for five more days. (Henderson is the owner of the Pine Ridge Veterinary Center in Stonewall, La.) Article originally posted here.