I'd like to share with you an excerpt from "British Veterinary News" which I stumbled across recently:

"Few English vets know about the key role played by one of our number in a sorry tale of Australian marsupial research some 40 years ago. My interest, sparked by an off-hand comment at a BVA dinner, led me to the archives of the Australian Veterinary Association and several retired veterinary surgeons in that country. The story, as I have pieced it together, goes as follows:

In February 1960, a bright young English veterinary science graduate began work in Sydney, under an exchange programme between British and Australian veterinary communities. For some years, Australian wildlife specialists had been concerned that numbers of Western Red Kangaroos were on the decline, and one theory held that it was linked to an unexplained but steady and measurable decline in the size of the females' pouches, resulting in increased mortality of joeys, possibly through suffocation.

At that time the drug thalidomide, after promising laboratory and clinical trial results, had recently been approved for human use. The young vet suggested to his Aussie colleagues that they try thalidomide on the pregnant kangaroos. The initial results were spectacularly promising. The drug appeared to have the effect of relaxing the abdominal muscles, expanding pouch size by as much as 35%, which resulted not only in more full-term successful rearing of joeys, but also in increased multiple births. The only side effect appeared to be that the fur of the the treated does and their offspring turned a darker richer shade of red. After limited lab and zoo-based trials, a programme of mass treatment in the wild was undertaken.

Unfortunately, about two years after the start of the programme, a worrying and statistically significant increase of limb deformities in the joeys concerned was noted, and the programme was immediately terminated. The devastated young vet returned home in shame, and immediately abandoned veterinary science as a career, training instead to become a University lecturer.

I tracked him down at his Lancaster home, where I was granted an interview, provided that I identify him only by his curious nickname "The Rhubarb Commando". Although the ageing ex-vet insists that he has had a long and rewarding career as a history academic, it is clear that he still harbours some bitterness for what he sees as his unfair treatment by the veterinary community in general. He did add, however, sniffling and wiping tears from his eyes, that he regrets the suffering that he caused the affected animals of the red kangaroo population."

The title of the article was:

Rheumy Rhuby rues roomy ruby roos.