CWD Stifles Deer Herds in Wisconsin’s ‘Ground-Zero’ Counties

   Whether you study deer-kill data or taxidermists’ work orders from the lands west of Madison, the long-predicted plunge in the region’s deer herd from chronic wasting disease appears under way.

   The impact of this always-fatal disease seems especially obvious in Iowa County, where hunters killed 916 bucks during November’s nine-day firearms season. The last time Iowa County hunters shot less than 1,000 bucks during gun season was November 1971 when 963 hit the ground.

   For further context, Iowa County’s gun-season buck kill peaked in 1995 at 4,163, or 4.5 times larger than this year’s tally. Likewise, the county’s combined harvest of bucks, does and fawns during the nine-day season was 1,900, down 19% from 2,348 in 2022.

   Since its February 2002 discovery in Wisconsin, CWD’s “ground-zero” in the state also includes Dane, Sauk and Richland counties. Those counties’ combined gun-deer kill was 9,133, a 15% drop from 10,717 in 2022.

Although chronic wasting disease is reducing deer populations in southwestern Wisconsin’s farmlands, aggressive antlerless deer quotas remain the best way to address the always-fatal disease.  — Patrick Durkin photo

   Further, at least two Sauk County taxidermists say business is noticeably down. When contacted Dec. 18, Chris Dischler at Nature’s Own Taxidermy in Spring Green estimated his buck-mount business is 70 to 75% of its norm, while Bill Hetzel at Alive Look Taxidermy in Bear Valley said he’s below 50%. Specifically, Hetzel has 60 bucks in his shop for mounting, down from 126 bucks a year ago.

   OK. Let the “yeah-buts” begin.

   Yes, you could try attributing the harvest declines to declining hunter numbers, but Wisconsin has sold 553,652 gun-deer licenses so far this year, or 44,205 more than the 509,447 it sold in 1971 when Wisconsin’s Northwoods drew far more hunters than did its southern farmlands. And yes, compound bows and crossbows take up some slack, but the November gun-deer season remains the state’s primary deer-management tool.

   And yes, if you insist on ignoring CWD’s worsening impacts, you might find comfort in deer data from the 1950s. During Iowa County’s 7-day buck-only season 70 years ago in November 1954, the gun-kill was 37.

   Back to business: It’s likely no coincidence that Iowa County leads the ongoing decline. It’s Wisconsin’s most CWD-infected county with 4,539 confirmed cases over the past 23 years. But even that’s a conservative total. Testing deer for CWD has long been voluntary, and only 23% of Iowa county’s successful hunters submitted samples so far this year (650 of 2,843 total) during the archery, crossbow and firearms seasons.

   Sauk County hunters are even more apathetic. They’ve tested only 15% of all deer they killed this year with arrows and bullets, 783 of 5,314. Richland County hunters, meanwhile, submitted 26% of their kills for testing this year, 1,247 of 4,714; and Dane County’s successful hunters submitted 20% this year, 792 of 3,969.

   Hunters are seeing fewer deer, too, and some actively discourage shooting antlerless deer. A recent Facebook post by the Southwestern Wisconsin chapter of the National Deer Association said:

   “If you’re not happy with the amount of deer you’re seeing … you may want to think twice about harvesting a doe. All these long seasons and unlimited antlerless tags, along with some EHD reports this year, are taking their toll … not to mention high predator numbers and advanced equipment technology.”

   Odd. The person posting that fact-diluted plea didn’t mention CWD, even though 50% of adult bucks and 30% of adult does in large areas of Dane, Sauk, Iowa and Richland counties are infected. CWD carriers spread disease-triggering prions to other deer year-round, and every carrier dies within 18 months to two years. In contrast, coyotes and bobcats have little population-level impacts on deer, and few hunters shoot more than one deer annually, no matter its gender, and no matter how many tags they receive.

   And epizootic hemorrhagic disease? Yes, it’s deadly, but it isn’t 100% fatal, and survivors build immunities. Further, its outbreaks are spottier and more scattered, and occur only in late summer to early fall, but not annually. Midges and viruses carrying EHD die within two weeks of the first frost. Therefore, it’s tough to detect EHD’s population impact on deer at the county level.

    The Department of Natural Resources confirmed Wisconsin’s first EHD case in 2002 when 14 deer suddenly died in Iowa County. During the worst outbreak, in 2012, the DNR found dead deer in 13 southern counties, most near or neighboring Dane County. It confirmed EHD killed 13 deer and suspected it killed 370 others. In 2019, the DNR also confirmed 23 EHD deaths in eight southwestern counties from Sauk to La Crosse to Grant; and suspected it killed 329 other deer, mostly in Crawford and Vernon counties.

    The DNR confirmed EHD outbreaks this fall in Chippewa, Jackson, Monroe and Waukesha counties; and tested deer likely killed by EHD in Barron, Brown, Columbia, Jefferson, La Crosse, Pierce, Polk, Shawano, St. Croix and Wood counties. Although hunters reported possible EHD deaths in Sauk County and nearby areas, testing didn’t confirm it. Further tests, however, found pneumonia in two of those deer, and previous research nearby often found pneumonia in deer dying of CWD.

   Hetzel said he’s certain EHD killed deer he found around Bear Valley, given the frothy blood on their noses and mouths. While hunting this fall, Hetzel also heard deer coughing, hacking and gagging, which happens with any animal struggling to breathe or swallow when its throat and nasal passages clog, which happens with CWD, EHD and pneumonia.

   Unlike some hunters, however, Hetzel mostly supports the DNR. For instance, he wishes it would forbid landowners from placing “kiddy pools” or building shallow ponds in woodlands to attract deer. Stagnant water and muddy flats spur midge hatches that spread EHD; and sick deer share viruses and shed prions when drinking, urinating and defecating in water and mud.

   Hetzel even supports DNR efforts to reduce deer numbers, even though he estimates this fall’s Bear Valley herd is less than half its size from a year ago. Biologists and wildlife-disease specialists often stress that “stockpiling” deer inevitably fails, and never creates healthy herds.

   In fact, protecting female deer and building doe numbers can backfire by creating more young deer to contract CWD and spread it when dispersing to new areas as young adults. In effect, some doe groups can become CWD’s version of “Typhoid Mary.”

   Hetzel also thinks some landowners are seeing fewer deer because they unintentionally degrade wildlife habitats. Practices like “recreational brush-hogging” can turn lush gulleys, field edges, creek bottoms and hillsides into sterile parks. Likewise, select “high-grade” timber cuts can thicken a woodland’s canopy, killing woodland underbrush by blocking sunlight from the ground. Deer might make tracks through these biological deserts, but they seldom pause to eat, bed, hide or nurse fawns.

   “I’ve bought into what the DNR keeps saying,” said Hetzel, who has run his taxidermy shop over 40 years. “It’s better to be a habitat manager, and eliminate anything that concentrates deer, whether it’s bait, mineral blocks or artificial water sources. We don’t need the deer numbers we had 25 years ago.”