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Bird Flu Fears and New Rules Rattle German Pet Lovers

By CARTER DOUGHERTY, NY Times

SINGEN, Germany , March 2 — Hannelore Kirchenmaier burst into the animal shelter here on Thursday, desperate for advice after a chain of events turned the town's household pets into objects of angst.

First, a stray cat died of bird flu on the German island of Rügen in the Baltic Sea. Before long German authorities decreed that all cats had to be kept indoors throughout areas where infected wild birds had been found, including Singen. They also said dogs should stay on leashes when outside.

So there are now millions of pet owners in Germany trying to contend with their beloved four-legged bundles of trouble.

"What are we supposed to do?" asked Ms. Kirchenmaier, 51.

She takes regular care of a friend's dog that has suddenly befriended a wild cat. Should she keep the dog away from the cat? And how could she keep the cat away from birds? "I'd take the cat," she said. "But I already have seven myself."

Bird flu's rapid march from Asia to Europe and Africa has created waves of anxiety and economic disruption; the poultry industry is disabled in much of Europe.

Meanwhile, only the one cat is known to have died of the virus in Europe, and that was far from this town of 44,000, which lies near sprawling Lake Constance, a stone's throw from Switzerland.

But when a dead duck found in Singen was confirmed to have the lethal A(H5N1) strain of bird flu last week, the town became a hotbed of dread. It is facing a challenge to its mood and social rhythms, if not its health.

Cats can become infected with A(H5N1) by eating infected birds but it is very rare. And medical authorities say there is barely any chance of a cat passing the disease to humans.

Such reassurance in Singen came from the head of the animal shelter's board, Marion Csajor, whose precise directions calmed Ms. Kirchenmaier. Feed the wild cat to keep it from gnawing on dead birds, Ms. Csajor counseled her, and tell the authorities immediately if it shows signs of sickness.

Satisfied, Ms. Kirchenmaier hurried off to take the leashed dog on its afternoon walk.

What the shelter cannot do, Ms. Csajor explained later, is take in cats and dogs whose owners now feel threatened by their pets. The 86 cats, 22 dogs and assorted other small critters are her primary charges. "We have to protect the ones we already have," she said.

As the shelter fielded visits and phone calls almost without end, the city government has also been at work.

Last Saturday night, the mayor, Oliver Ehret, received a call from the agriculture minister of the state of Baden-Württemberg confirming that Singen's dead duck had the lethal strain, the mayor's assistant recalled.

The next morning, the assistant, Michael Hübner, looked out of his office window at the town's traditional pre-Lent festival only to see a man cavorting about in a chicken costume. "Boy, if you only knew," he recalled thinking to himself.

The first order of business for Singen was to create quarantine zones from which no birds or bird products could be brought. With only about 3,000 hens in town, laying eggs mainly for private use, this was a fairly minor development.

By early this week, in bitter wintry weather, three two-man teams in brilliant orange uniforms were scouring the banks of the river Aach — where the infected duck was found — in search of other dead fowl. One pair, Werner Sauter and Helmut Heerre, were enjoying minor celebrity status as the town's primary defense against bird flu.

"Lots of people do notice now that there are men in uniforms along the river," Mr. Sauter said.

But he has found fewer birds than have the alert citizens of Singen, intrepid hikers who will not be denied their walks along the river, even in wet snow.

They have turned up at least a dozen dead birds, according to Peter Kobuschinski, one of the searchers who must don protective gear and bag the bodies for shipment to labs where they will be tested for the virus.

Indeed, residents are finding birds in areas where people seldom go, especially in winter.

"The citizenry is forcefully engaged," Mr. Hübner said wryly.

The people here do not seem to worry much about the virus in birds, but the cats and dogs are another matter.

Mr. Csajor at the shelter and Mr. Hübner say the problem can be managed with clear communication about what is to be done, but they concede that people are inclined to fear that if the virus spread from birds to a cat, then people cannot be far behind.

This week, sober advice about how to minimize risks filled the Südkurier, Singen's daily newspaper, but some comments from government officials referred obliquely to worries about vigilante killings of sick — or merely suspect — animals. No authority has granted anyone permission to shoot stray cats, one official cautioned.

The anxieties have not totally stolen Singen's sense of humor, where residents' melodious German underscores their easygoing nature.

Frederike Geyer trudged through the snow to snap a picture of the small pink sign warning "Bird Pest — Restricted Area" hanging under a much larger sign marking the city limits.

Ms. Geyer, 17, had been chatting on the Internet with friends who wanted to know if she was all right, and if soldiers had sealed off the town. No, she assured them, she was fine, as were her cats, Würsti, Pöppi and Missi.

"I'm sure some people are worried, but it has taken on a jokey feel for me," she said. "And that's better than panic."