Let Sleeping Vets Lie Read online

  efforts but Helen smiled encouragingly as she caught my eye. I did my

  best to smile back at her through my bloody mask but I don't suppose it

  showed.

  I gave it up when the heifer gave a particularly brisk toss which sent

  my forceps Rying on to the grass. I did what I should probably have done

  at the ~ l ~a beginning - clapped a pad of cotton wool and antiseptic

  powder on to the stump and secured it with a figure of eight bandage

  round the other horn.

  "That's it, then," I said to the farmer as I tried to blink the blood

  out of my eyes. "The bleeding's stopped, anyway. I'd advise you to have

  her properly dehorned soon or she's going to look a bit odd."

  Just then Tristan appeared from among the spectators.

  "What's got you out of the beer tent?" I enquired with a touch of

  bitterness.

  "It's lunch time, old lad," Tristan replied equably. "But we'll have to

  get you cleaned up a bit first. I can't be seen with you in that

  condition. Hang on, I'll get a bucket of water."

  The show luncheon was so excellent that it greatly restored me. Although

  it was taken in a marquee the committee men's wives had somehow managed

  to conjure up a memorable cold spread. There was fresh salmon and home

  fed ham and slices of prime beef with mixed salads and apple pie and the

  big brimming jugs of cream you only see at farming functions. One of the

  ladies was a noted cheese maker and we finished with some delicious goat

  cheese and coffee. The liquid side was catered for too with a bottle of

  Magnet Pale Ale and a glass at every place.

  I didn't have the pleasure of Tristan's company at lunch because he had

  strategically placed himself well down the table between two strict

  Methodists so that his intake of Magnet was trebled.

  I had hardly emerged into the sunshine when a man touched me on the

  shoulder.

  "One of the dog show judges wants you to examine a dog. He doesn't like

  the look of it."

  He led me to where a thin man of about forty with a small dark mustache

  was standing by his car. He held a wire-haired fox terrier on a leash

  and he met me with an ingratiating smile.

  "There's nothing whatever the matter with my dog," he declared, 'but the

  chap in there seems very fussy."

  I looked down at the terrier. "I see he has some matter in the corner of

  his eyes."

  The man shook his head vigorously. "Oh no, that's not matter. I've been

  using some white powder on him and a bit's got into his eyes, that's

  all."

  "Hmm, well let's see what his temperature says, shall we?"

  The little animal stood uncomplaining as I inserted the thermometer.

  When I took the reading my eyebrows went up.

  "It's a hundred and four. I'm afraid he's not fit to go into the show."

  "Wait a minute." The man thrust out his jaw. "You're talking like that

  chap in there. I've come a long way to show this dog and I'm going to

  show him."

  "I'm sorry but you can't show him with a temperature of a hundred and

  four."

  "But he's had a car journey. That could put up his temperature."

  I shook my head. "Not as high as that it couldn't. Anyway he looks sick

  to me. Do you see how he's half closing his eyes as though he's

  frightened of the light?

  It's possible he could have distemper."

  "What? That's rubbish and you know it. He's never been fitter!" The

  man's mouth trembled with anger.

  I looked down at the little dog. He was crouching on the grass

  miserably. Occasionally he shivered, he had a definite photophobia and

  there was that creamy blob of pus in the corner of each eye. "Has he

  been inoculated against distemper ?"

  "Well no, he hasn't, but why do you keep on about it?"

  "Because I think he's got it now and for his sake and for the sake of

  the other dogs here you ought to take him straight home and see your own

  vet."

  he glared at me. so you won't let me take him into the show tent?"

  "That's right. I'm very sorry, but it's out of the question." I turned

  and walked away.

  I had gone only a few yards when the loudspeaker boomed again. "Will Mr.

  Herriot please go to the measuring stand where the ponies are ready for

  him."

  I collected my stick and trotted over to a corner of the field where a

  group of ponies had assembled; Welsh, Dales, Exmoor, Dartmoor - all

  kinds of breeds were represented.

  For the uninitiated, horses are measured in hands which consist of four

  inches and a graduated stick is used with a cross piece and a spirit

  level which rests on the withers, the highest point of the shoulders. I

  had done a fair bit of it in individual animals but this was the first

  time I had done the job at a show. With my stick at the ready I stood by

  the two wide boards which had been placed on the turf to give the

  animals a reasonably level standing surface.

  A smiling young woman led the first pony, a smart chestnut, on to the

  boards.

  "Which class?" I asked.

  "Thirteen hands."

  I tried the stick on him. He was well under.

  "Fine, next please."

  A few more came through without incident then there was a lull before

  the next group came up. The ponies were arriving on the field all the

  time in their boxes and being led over to me, some by their young

  riders, others by the parents. It looked as though I could be here quite

  a long time.

  During one of the lulls a little man who had been standing near me spoke

  up.

  "No trouble yet?" he asked.

  "No, everything's in order," I replied.

  He nodded expressionlessly and as I took a closer look at him his slight

  body, dark, leathery features and high shoulders seemed to give him the

  appearance of a little brown gnome. At the same time there was something

  undeniably horsy about him.

  "You'll 'ave some awkward 'uns," he grunted. "And they allus say the

  same thing. They allus tell you the vet at some other show passed their

  pony." His swarthy cheeks crinkled in a wry smile.

  "Is that so?"

  "Aye, you'll see."

  Another candidate, led by a beautiful blonde, was led on to the

  platform. She gave me the full blast of two big greenish eyes and

  flashed a mouthful of sparkling teeth at me.

  "Twelve two," she murmured seductively.

  I tried the stick on the pony and worked it around, but try as I might I

  couldn't get it down to that.

  "I'm afraid he's a bit big," I said.

  The blonde's smile vanished. "Have you allowed half an inch for his

  shoes?"

  "I have indeed, but you can see for yourself, he's well over."

  "But he passed the vet without any trouble at Hickley." She snapped and

  out of the corner of my eye I saw the gnome nodding sagely.

  "I can't help that," I said. "I'm afraid you'll have to put him into the

  next class.

  For a moment two green pebbles from the cold sea bed fixed me with a

  frigid glare then the blonde was gone taking her pony with her.

  Next, a little bay animal was led on to the stand by a hard faced

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