Vet in a Spin Read online

that Paul wouldn't jnvariably consult me about his dog in a pub. I

  wanted to examine the animal, but I couldn't very well deposit him

  among the glasses on the bar.

  I was trying to get a better grip with a view to loo king down his

  throat when my hand slipped behind his fore leg and my heart gave a

  sudden thump as I encountered the axillary gland. It, too, was grossly

  enlarged. I whipped my fingers back into his groin and there was the

  inguinal gland, prominent as an egg. The pre scapular was the same,

  and as I groped feverishly I realised that every superficial lymph

  gland was several times its normal size.

  Hodgkin's disease. For a few moments I was oblivious of the shouting

  and laughter, the muffled blare of music. Then I looked at Paul who

  was regarding me calmly as he puffed his pipe. How could I tell him in

  these surroundings?

  He would ask me what Hodgkin's disease was and I would have to explain

  that it was a cancer of the lymphatic system and that his dog was

  surely going to die.

  As my thoughts raced I stroked the shaggy head and Theo's comic

  whiskered face turned towards me. People jostled past, hands reached

  out and bore gins and whiskies and beers past my face, a fat man threw

  his arm round my neck.

  I leaned across.

  "Paul," I said.

  "Yes, Jim?"

  "Will you . . . will you bring Theo round to the surgery tomorrow

  morning

  It's ten o'clock on a Sunday."

  Momentarily the eyebrow twitched upwards, then he nodded.

  "Right, old boy."

  I didn't bother to finish my drink. I began to push my way towards the

  door and as the crush closed around me I glanced back. The little

  dog's tail was just disappearing under the stool.

  Next day I had one of those early waking mornings when I started

  tossing around at six o'clock and finished by staring at the ceiling.

  Even after I had got my feet on the ground and brought Helen a cup of

  tea the waiting was interminable until the moment arrived which I had

  been dread ing when I faced Paul across the surgery table with Theo

  stan ding between us.

  I told him straight away. I couldn't think of any easy way to lead up

  to it.

  His expression did not change, but he took his pipe out of his mouth

  and looked steadily at me, then at the dog and back again at me.

  "Oh," he said at last.

  "I see."

  I didn't say anything and he slowly ran his hand along the little

  animal's back.

  "Are you quite sure, Jim?"

  "Absolutely. I'm terribly sorry."

  "Is there no treatment?"

  "There are various palliatives, Paul, but I've never seen any of them

  do any good. The end result is al ways the same."

  "Yes . . ." He nodded slowly.

  "But he doesn't look so bad. What will happen ~f we don't do

  anything?"

  I paused.

  "Well, as the internal glands enlarge, various things will happen.

  Ascites dropsy will develop in the abdomen. In fact you see he's a

  little bit pot-bellied now."

  "Yes . . . I do see, now you mention it. Anything else?"

  "As the thoracic glands get bigger he'll begin to pant."

  "I've noticed that already. He's breathless after a short walk."

  "And all the time he'll get thinner and thinner and more

  debilitated."

  Paul looked down at his feet for a few moments then faced me.

  "So what i' amounts to is that he's going to be pretty miserable for

  the rest of his life."

  He swallowed.

  "And how long is that going to be?"

  "A few weeks. It varies. Maybe up to three months." _ "Well, Jim."

  He smoothed back his hair.

  "I can't let that happen. It's responsibility. You must put him to

  sleep now, before he really starts to suffer.

  Don't you agree?"

  "Yes, Paul, it's the kindest thing to do." ~ E "Will you do it

  immediately as soon as I am out of that door?" ~ ~ "I will," I

  replied.

  "And I promise you he won't know a thing." ,! (_ His face held a

  curious fixity of expression. He put his pipe in his mouth, b - ) it

  had gone out so he stuffed it into his pocket. Then he leaned forward

  a~ patted his dog once on the head. The bushy face with the funny

  shock of hair-.;.

  round the muzzle turned to him and for a few seconds they looked at

  each oth=.: 3~: Then,

  "Goodbye, old chap," he muttered and strode quickly from the room.

  I kept my promise. ~,~ "Good lad, good old Theo," I murmured, and

  stroked the face and ears again i~~i~ and again as the little creature

  slipped peacefully away. Like all vets I hat~-~ doing this, painless

  though it was, but to me there has al ways been a comfort:~: in the

  knowledge that the last thing these helpless animals knew was the soun~

  ~ of a friendly voice and the touch of a gentle hand. .: Sentimental,

  maybe. Not like Paul. He had been practical and utterly rational :.

  in the way he had acted. He had been able to do the right thing

  because he was : not at the mercy of his emotions.

  Later, over a Sunday lunch which I didn't enjoy as much as usual I told

  ~.~; Helen about Theo.

  I had to say something because she had produced a delicious pot roast

  on the~ ..~: gas ring which was our only means of cooking and I wasn't

  doing justice to he `~ skill. :' ~ .

  Sit ting at our bench I looked down at her. It was my turn for the

  high st~l.:': "You know, Helen," I said.

  "That was an object lesson for me. The way Pa~:~, ..

  acted, I mean. If I'd been in his position I'd have shilly-shallied -

  tried to

  D~:

  off something which was inevitable."

  She thought for a moment.

  "Well, a lot of people would." ~ ' Yes, but he didn't." I put down my

  knife apd fork and stared at the wall.

  `~2;:"i'~'4'~ behaved in a mature way. I suppose Paul has one of those

  personalities you r~d r
  ~Z=f."

  "Come on, Jim, eat your lunch. I know it was a sad thing but it had to

  - t.:done and you mustn't start criticising yourself. Paul is Paul and

  you are you." : I started again on the meat but I couldn't repress the

  rising sense of my o~ - '.

  inadequacy. Then as I glanced to one side I saw that my wife was

  smiling : at me.

  I felt suddenly reassured. It seemed that she at least didn't seem to

  mind t - ) ..~ That was on the Sunday, and on Tuesday morning I was

  handing out wart lotion to Mr Sangster who kept a few dairy cows down

  by the station: "Dab that on the udder night and morning after

  milking," I said.

  "I thi~ ~'11 find that the warts will start to drop off after a week or

  two."

  'hank ye." He handed over half a crown and I was dropping it into thc

  d~..

  - when he spoke again.

  .....~b about Paul Cotter ell, wasn't it?"

  ..... 'o you mean?"

  .....conjurebt you'd have heard," he said.

  "He's dead."

  "Dead!" I stared at him stupidly.