Let Sleeping Vets Lie Read online

Because Candy was something special. She was the house cow, a pretty

  little Jersey and Mr. Alderson's particular pet. She was the sole member

  of her breed in the herd but whereas the milk from the Shorthorns went

  into the churns to be collected by the big dairy, Candy's rich yellow

  offering found its way on to ~_

  the family porridge every morning or appeared heaped up on trifles and

  fruit pies or was made into butter, a golden creamy butter to make you

  dream. !

  But apart from all that, Mr. Alderson just liked the animal. He usually

  stopped opposite her on his way down the byre and began to hum to

  himself an" gave her tail head a brief scratch as he passed. And I

  couldn't blame him because I sometimes wish all cows were Jerseys;

  small, gentle, doe-eyed creatures you could push around without any

  trouble; with padded corners and fragilelimbs Even if they kicked you it

  was like a love tap compared with the clump from a craggy Friesian.

  I just hoped it would be something simple with Candy, because my stock

  wasn't high with Mr. Alderson and I had a nervous conviction that he

  wouldn't react favourably if I started to make a ham-fisted job of

  calving his little favourite. I shrugged away my fears; obstetrics in

  the Jersey were usually easy.

  Helen's father was an efficient farmer. As I pulled up in the yard I

  could see" into the lighted loose box where two buckets of water were

  steaming in readiness for me. A towel was draped over the half door and

  Stan and Bert, the twe long-serving cowman, were standing alongside

  their boss. Candy was lying.~$ comfortably in deep straw. She wasn't

  straining and there was nothing visible at the vulva but the cow had a

  preoccupied, inward look as though all was n well with her.

  I closed the door behind me. "Have you had a feel inside her, Mr.

  Alderson?

  "Aye, I've had me hand in and there's nowt there"

  "Nothing at all?"

  "Not a thing. She'd been on for a few hours and not showing so I popped

  m. hand in and there's no head, no legs, nowt. And not much room,

  either. That when I rang you."

  This sounded very strange. I hung my jacket on a nail and began

  thoughtful!, to unbutton my shirt. It was when I was pulling it over my

  head that I noticed Mr. Alderson's nose wrinkling. The farm men, too,

  began to sniff and look at each other wonderingly. Mrs. Hall's bath

  salts, imprisoned under my clothing had burst from their bondage in a

  sickly wave, filling the enclosed space with their strident message.

  Hurriedly I began to wash my arms in the hope that th" alien odour might

  pass away but it seemed to get worse, welling from my warm skin,

  competing incongruously with the honest smells of cow, hay and straw

  Nobody said anything. These men weren't the type to make the ribald

  remark which would have enabled me to laugh the thing off. There was no

  ambiguity about this scent; it was voluptuously feminine and Bert and

  Stan stared at me open mouthed. Mr. Alderson, his mouth turned down at

  the corners, his nostrils still twitching, kept his eyes fixed on the

  far wall. 4

  Cringing inwardly I knelt behind the cow and in a moment my

  embarrassment: was forgotten. The vagina was empty; a smooth passage

  narrowing rapidly to a small, ridged opening just wide enough to admit

  my hand. Beyond I could fed the feet and head of a calf. My spirits

  plummeted. Torsion of the uterus. There" was going to be no easy victory

  for me here.

  I sat back on my heels and turned to the farmers. "She's got a twisted

  calf bed, There's a live calf in there all right but there's no way out

  for it - I can barer get my hand through."

  "Aye, I thought it was something peculiar." Mr. Alderson rubbed his chin

  and looked at me doubtfully. "What can we do about it, then?"

  "We'll have to try to correct the twist by rolling the cow over while I

  keep hold of the calf. It's a good job there's plenty of us here."

  "And that'll put everything right, will it?"

  I swallowed. I didn't like these jobs. Sometimes rolling worked and

  sometime, it didn't and in those days we hadn't quite got round to

  performing caesarian i .

  :

  ' i 1: ~i ., 1:

  on cows If I was unsuccessful I had the prospect of telling Mr. Alderson

  to send Candy to the butcher. I banished the thought quickly.

  "It'll put everything right," I said. It had to. I stationed Bert at the

  front legs, Stan at the hind and the farmer holding the cow's head on

  the floor. Then I stretched myself on the hard concrete, pushed in a

  hand and grasped the calf's foot.

  "Now roll her," I gasped, and the men pulled the legs round in a

  clockwise direction I held fiercely to the little feet as the cow

  flopped on to her other side. Nothing seemed to be happening inside.

  "Push her on to her chest," I panted.

  Stan and Bert expertly tucked the legs under the cow and rolled her on

  to her brisket and as she settled there I gave a yell of pain.

  "Get her back, quick! We're going the wrong way!" The smooth band of

  tissue had tightened on my wrist in a numbing grip of frightening power.

  For a moment I had the panicky impression that I'd never get out of

  there again.

  But the men worked like lightning. Within seconds Candy was stretched

  out on her original side, the pressure was off my arm and we were back

  where we started.

  I gritted my teeth and took a fresh grip on the calf's foot. "O.K., try

  her the other way."

  This time the roll was anti-clockwise and we went through 180 degrees

  without anything happening. I only just kept my grasp on the foot - the

  resistance this time was tremendous. Taking a breather for a few seconds

  I lay face down while the sweat sprang out on my back, sending out fresh

  exotic vapours from the bath salts.

  "Right. One more go!" I cried and the men hauled the cow further over.

  And oh it was beautiful to feel everything magically unravelling and my

  arm Lying free in a wide uterus with all the room in the world and the

  calf already beginning to slide towards me.

  Candy summed up the situation immediately and for the first time gave a

  determined heaving strain. Sensing victory just round the corner she

  followed up with another prolonged effort which popped the calf wet and

  wriggling into my arms.

  "By gum, it was quick at t'finish," Mr. Alderson murmured wonderingly.

  He seized a wisp of hay and began to dry off the little creature.

  Thankfully I soaped my arms in one of the buckets. After every delivery

  there is a feeling of relief but in this case it was overwhelming. It no

  longer mattered that the loose box smelt like a ladies" hairdressing

  salon, I just felt good. I said good night to Bert and Stan as they

  returned to their beds, giving a final incredulous sniff as they passed

  me. Mr. Alderson was pottering about, having a word with Candy then

  starting again on the calf which he had already rubbed down several

  times. He seemed fascinated by it. And I couldn't blame him because it

  was like something out of Disney; a pale gold faun, unbelievab