Vet in a Spin Read online

  "I doubt she's 'ad it," Mr Birtwhistle muttered.

  Cow's hind feet are difficult to lift, but today I didn't need any help

  because Nellie had stopped caring. I examined the swollen digit. It

  was now vast i great ugly club of tissue with a trickle of pus

  discharging down the wall. ' I see it's bust there." The farmer poked

  a finger at the ragged opening.

  "B.

  it hasn't given erno relief."

  "Well, I wouldn't expect it to," I said.

  "Remember I told you the trouble is inside the joint."

  "Well, these things 'appen," he replied.

  "Ah might as well telephone to Mallock. She's hardly givin' a drop o'

  milk, poor awd lass, she's nowt but screw now."

  I al ways had to wait for the threat of the knacker man's humane killer

  before" I said what I had to say now. Right from the start this had

  been a case for surgery, but it would have been a waste of time to

  suggest it at the beginning.

  Amputation of the bovine digit has al ways filled farmers with horror

  and a4 now I knew I would have trouble convincing Mr Birtwhistle.

  "There's no need to slaughter her," I said.

  "There's another way of curing thiS. "Another way? We've tried 'arc

  enough, surely."

  I bent and lifted the foot again.

  "Look at this." I seized the inner cleat and moved it freely around.

  "This side is perfectly healthy. There's nothing wrong with it. It

  would bear Nellie's full weight."

  "Aye, but . . . how about tother 'orrible thing?"

  "I could remove it."

  "You mean . . . cut it off ?"

  "Yes."

  He shook his head vigorously

  "Nay, nay, I'm not havin' that. She's suffered enough Far better send

  for Jeff Mallock and get the job over."

  Here it was again. Farmers are anything but shrinking violets, but

  there was something about this business which appalled them.

  "But Mr Birtwhistle," I said.

  "Don't you see the pain is immediately relieved.

  The pressure is off and all the weight rests on the good side."

  "Ah said no, Mr Herriot, and ah mean no. You've done your best and I

  thank ye, but I'm not havin' her foot cut off and that's all about it."

  He turned and began to walk away.

  I looked after him helplessly. One thing I hate to do is talk a man

  into an operation on one of his beasts for the simple reason that if

  anything goes wrong I get the blame. But I was just about cert ain

  that an hour's work could restore this good cow to her former state, I

  couldn't let it go at this.

  I trotted from the byre. The farmer was already half way across the

  yard on his way to the phone.

  I panted up to him as he reached the farmhouse door.

  "Mr Birtwhistle, listen to me for a minute. I never said anything

  about cutting off her foot. Just one cleat."

  "Well that's half a foot, isn't it?" he looked down at his boots.

  "And it's ower much for me."

  "But she wouldn't know a thing," I pleaded.

  "She'd be under a general anaesthetic. And I'm nearly sure it would be

  a success."

  "Mr Herriot, I just don't fancy it. I don't like t'idea. And even if

  it did work it would be like havin' a crippled cow walk in' about."

  "Not at all. She would grow a little stump of horn there and I'd like

  to bet you'd never notice a thing."

  He gave me a long sideways look and I could see he was weakening.

  "Mr Birtwhistle," I said, pressing home the attack.

  "Within a month Nellie could be a fat cow again, giving five gallons of

  milk a day."

  This was silly talk, not to be recommended to any veterinary surgeon,

  but I was seized by a kind of madness. I couldn't bear the thought of

  that cow being cut up for dog food when I was convinced I could put her

  right. And there was another thing; I was already savouring the

  pleasure, childish perhaps, of instantly relieving an animal's pain, of

  bringing off a spectacular cure. There aren't many operations in the

  field of bovine surgery where you can do this but digit amputation is

  one of them.

  Something of my fervour must have been communicated to the farmer

  because he looked at me steadily for a few moments then shrugged.

  "When do you want to do it?" he asked.

  "Tomorrow."

  "Right. Will you need a lot o'fellers to help?"

  "No, just you and Len. I'll see you at ten o'clock."

  ~next day the sun was warm on my back as I laid out my equipment on a

  small ~ :: field near the house. It was a typical setting for many

  large animal operations.

  I have carried out over the years; the sweet stretch of green, the grey

  Stone buildings and the peaceful bulk of the fells rising calm and

  unheeding into the white scattering of clouds. Y It took a long time

  for them to lead Nellie out, though she didn't have far to go, and as

  the bony scarecrow hopped painfully towards me, dangling her useless.

  limb, the brave words of yesterday seemed foolhardy.

  "All right," I said.

  "Stop there. That's a good spot." On the grass, nearby, lay] my tray

  with the saw, chloroform, bandages, cotton wool and iodoform. I had`]

  my long casting rope too, which we used to pull cattle down, but I had

  a feeling Nellie wouldn't need it.

  I was right. I buckled on the muzzle, poured some chloroform on to the

  sponge and the big white cow sank almost thankfully on to the cool

  green herbage.

  "Kestrels had a smash in' match on Wednesday night," Len chuckled

  happily, ~ "Johnnie Nudd didn't score but Len Bottomley . . ." ~j "I

  'ope we're coin' t'right thing," muttered Mr Birtwhistle.

  "The way she-] staggered out 'ere I'd say it was a waste of time to . .

  ." :~ '. . . cracked in a couple o' beauties." Len's face lit up at

  the memory.

  "Kestrel~ is lucky to 'ave two fellers like . . ."

  "Get hold of that bad foot, Len!" I barked, playing them at their own

  game. l "And keep it steady on that block of wood. And you, Mr

  Birtwhistle, hold her head down. I don't suppose she'll move, but if

  she does we'll have to ~give her more chloroform."

  Cows are good subjects for chloroform anaesthesia but I don't like to

  keep] them laid out too long in case of regurgitation of food. I was

  in a hurry.

  I quickly tied a bandage above the hoof, pulling it tight to serve as a

  tourniquet" then I reached back to the tray for the saw. The books are

  full of sophisticated methods of digit amputation with much talk of

  curved incisions, reflections of ll skin to expose the region of the

  articulations, and the like. But I have whipped:' l off hundreds of

  cleats with a few brisk strokes of the saw below the coronar)ii: l band

  with complete success. ~ l I took a long breath.

  "Hold tight, Len." And set to work. .~3 For a few moments there was

  silence except for the rhythmic grating of metal] on bone, then the

  offending digit was Lying on the grass, leaving a flat stump from which

  a few capillary vessels spurted. Using curved scissors I speedily

  disarticulated the remains of the pedal bone from the second ph