Vet in a Spin Read online

but' couldn't do a thing about it.

  "Mr Harcourt wants a word with you."

  There it was. The terrible sentence that al ways set my heart

  thumping.

  "Thank you," I said huskily, and waited an eternity as the phone was

  swit~ through.

  "Herriot!" The booming voice made me jump.

  I swallowed.

  "Good morning, Mr Harcourt. How are you?"

  "I'll tell you how I am, I'm bloody annoyed!" I could imagine vividly

  handsome, high-coloured, choleric face flushing deeper, the greenish

  eyes al;.

  "In fact I'm hop ping bloody mad!"

  "Oh."

  "It's no use saying "oh". That's what you said the last time when you

  ~ that cow of Frank land's that had been dead for two years! That was

  very <:1 i don know how you managed it. now been going over>
  your $d Hill's of High View and there are two cows here that you've

  tested number74 and ~ 03. Now our records show that he sold both of

  them at Braw ton Auction ~art six months ago, so you've performed

  another miracle."

  "I'm sorry . .

  ~please don't be sorry, it's bloody marvellous how you do it. I have

  all the figUres here skin measurements, the lot. I see you found they

  were both thin-skinned animals even though they were about fifteen

  miles away at the time. Clever stuff!"

  "Well I . . ."

  "All right, Herriot, I'll dispense with the comedy. I'm going to tell

  you once mOre, for the last time, and I hope you're listening." He

  paused and I could almost see the big shoulders hunching as he barked

  into the phone.

  "Look in the bloody ears in future!"

  I broke into a rapid gabble.

  "I will indeed, Mr Harcourt, I assure you from now on . . ~ "All

  right, all right, but there's something else."

  "Something else?"

  "Yes, I'm not finished yet." The voice took on a great weariness.

  "Can I ask you to cast your mind back to that cow you took under the TB

  order from Wilson of Low Parks?"

  I dug my nails into my palm. We were heading for deep water.

  "Yes I remember it."

  "Well now, Herriot, lad, do you remember a little chat we had about

  the forms?" Charles was trying to be patient, because he was a decent

  man, but it was costing him dearly.

  "Didn't anything I told you sink in?"

  "Well, yes, of course."

  "Then why, why didn't you sent me a receipt for slaughter?"

  "Receipt for . . . didn't I . . .?"

  "No, you didn't," he said.

  "And honestly I can't understand it. I went over it with you step by

  step last time when you forgot to forward a copy of the valuation

  agreement."

  "Oh dear, I really am sorry."

  A deep sigh came from the other end.

  "And there's nothing to it." He paused.

  "Tell you what we'll do. Let's go over the procedure once more, shall

  we?"

  "Yes, by all means."

  "Very well," he said.

  "First of all, when you find an infected animal you serve B.205 DT Form

  A, which is the notice requiring detention and isolation of the animal.

  Next," and I could hear the slap of finger on palm as he enumerated his

  points, 'next, there is B. 207 DT, Form C, Notice of intended

  slaughter. Then B. 208 DT, Form D, Post Mortem Certificate. Then B.

  196 DT, Veterinary inspector's report. Then B. 209 DT, Valuation

  agreement, and in cases where the owner objects, there is B. 213 DT,

  Appointment of valuer. Then we have B. 212 DT, Notice to owner of time

  and place of slaughter, followed by B. 227 DT, Receipt for animal for

  slaughter, and finally B. 230 DT, Notice requiring cleansing and

  disinfection. Dammit, a child could understand that. It's perfectly

  simple' isn't it?"

  "Yes, yes, certainly, absolutely." It wasn't simple to me, but I

  didn't mention the fact. He had calmed down nicely and I didn't want

  to infiame him again.

  "Well thank you, Mr Harcourt," I said.

  "I'll see it doesn't happen again." I put dOwn the receiver with the

  feeling that things could have turned out a lot worse but for all that

  my nerves didn't stop jangling for some time. The trouble was that the

  Ministry work was desperately important to general practitioners. In

  act, in those precarious days it was the main rent payer.

  This business of the Tuberculosis Order. When a veterinary surgeon

  came Upon a cow with open TB it was his duty to see that the animal was

  slaughtered ~, immediately because its milk could be a danger to the

  public. That sounds but unfortunately the law insisted that the demise

  of each unhappy creatur~ commemorated by a confetti-like shower of the

  doom-laden forms.

  It wasn't just that there were so many of these forms, but they had to

  be to an amazing variety of people. Sometimes I used to think that

  there were few people in England who didn't get one. Apart from

  Charles Harcourt, o recipients included the farmer concerned, the

  police, the Head Office of Ministry, the knacker man, the local

  authority. I nearly al ways managed forget one of them. I used to

  have nightmares about stan ding in the middle the market place,

  throwing the forms around me at the passers-by and laugh;

  hysterically.

  Looking back, I can hardly believe that for all this wear and tear on

  nervous system the payment was one guinea plus ten and sixpence for the

  mortem.

  It was a mere two days after my interview with the Divisional Inspector

  I had to take another cow under the TB Order. When I came to fill in

  the f~ I sat at the surgery desk in a dither of apprehension, going

  over them again a again, laying them out side by side and enclosing

  them one by one in various envelopes. This time there must be no

  mistake.

  I took them over to the post myself and uttered a silent prayer as I

  droppt them into the box. Charles would have them the following

  morning, and I wold soon know if I had done it again. When two days

  passed without incident I f~ I was safe, but midway through the third

  morning I dropped in at the surgd and read the message in letters of

  fire.

  "RING MIN!"

  Kitty Pattison sounded strained. She didn't even try to appear casual.

  ~11 yes, Mr Herriot," she said hurriedly.

  "Mr Harcourt asked me to call you. I put ting you through now."

  My heart almost stopped as I waited for the familiar bellow, but when 4

  quiet voice came on the line it frightened me even more.

  "Good morning, Herriot." Charles was curt and impersonal.

  "I'd like to disc~ that last cow you took under the Order."

  "Oh yes?" I croaked.

  "But not over the telephone. I want to see you here in the office." i

  "In the . . . the office?"

  "Yes, right away if you can."

  I put down the phone and went out to the car with my knees knockiql

  Charles Harcourt was really upset this time. There was a kind of

  restrai~j fury in his words, and this business of going to the office

  that was reserved-~ serious transgressions.

  Twenty minutes later my footsteps echoed in