Vet in Harness Read online

  - "She slept for two days?'

  "She did, ah'm not jokin', nor jestin'. Ah kept going' into "'stable but

  she never altered. Lay there peaceful as you like all t'first day, then

  all "'second, then when I went in on t'third morning she was standin'

  there lookin' at me and ready for some grub.'

  "Amazing!' I got to my feet. "I must have a look at her.'

  I really wanted to see what had become of that mass of inflammation and

  tumefaction under her tail and I approached her carefully, jockeying her

  bit by bit into the bottom corner of the field. There we faced each

  other for a few tense moments as I tried a few feints and she responded

  with nimble side-steps; then as I made my final swoop to catch her

  fleece she eluded me effortlessly and shot past me with a thundering of

  hooves. I gave chase for twenty yards but it was too hot and wellingtons

  aren't the ideal gear for running. In any case I have long held the

  notion that if a vet can't catch his patient there's nothing much to

  worry about.

  And as I walked back up the field a message was tapping in my brain. I

  had discovered something, discovered something by accident. That ewe's

  life had ~ been saved not by medicinal therapy but simply by stopping

  her pain and allowing nature to do its own job of healing. It was a

  lesson I have never: forgotten; that animals confronted with severe

  continuous pain and the terror ~ and shock that goes with it will often

  retreat even into death, and if you can ;] ~ ..] remove that pain

  amazing things can happen. It is difficult to explain rationally but I

  know that it is so.

  By the time I had got back to Mr Kitson the sun was scorching the back

  of my neck and I could feel a trickle of sweat under my shirt. The big

  man was still watching the ewe which had finished its gallop and was

  cropping the grass contentedly.

  "Ah can't get over it,' he murmured, scratching the thin bristle on his

  jaw. "Two whole days and never a move.' He turned to me and his eyes

  widened.

  "Ah'll tell the, young man, you'd just think she'd been drugged!'

  Chapter Twenty-one.

  I found it difficult to get Mr Kitson's ewe out of my mind but I had to

  make the effort because while all the sheep work was going on the rest

  of the practice problems rolled along unabated. One of these concerned

  the Flaxtons' Poodle, Penny.

  Penny's first visit to the surgery was made notable by the

  attractiveness of her mistress. When I stuck my head round the

  waiting-room door and said, "Next please,' Mrs Flaxton's little round

  face with its shining tight cap of blue-black hair seemed to illumine

  the place like a beacon. It is possible that the effect was heightened

  by the fact that she was sitting between fifteen stone Mrs Barmby, who

  had brought her canary to have its claws clipped, and old Mr Spence who

  was nearly ninety and had called round for some flea powder for his cat,

  but there was no doubt she was good to look at.

  And it wasn't just that she was pretty; there was a round-eyed, innocent

  appeal about her and she smiled all the time. Penny, sitting on her

  knee, seemed to be smiling from under the mound of brown curls on her

  forehead.

  In the consulting room I lifted the little dog on to the table. "Well

  now, what's the trouble?'

  "She has a touch of sickness and diarrhoea,' Mrs Flaxton replied. "It

  started yesterday.'

  "I see.' I turned and lifted the thermometer from the trolley. "Has she

  had a change of food?'

  "No, nothing like that.'

  "Is she inclined to eat rubbish when she's out?'

  Mrs Flaxton shook her head. "No, not as a rule. But I suppose even the

  nicest dog will have a nibble at a dead bird or something horrid like

  that now and then.' She laughed and Penny laughed back at her.

  "Well, she has a slightly raised temperature but she seems bright

  enough.' I put my hand round the dog's middle. "Let's have a feel at

  your tummy, Penny.'

  The little animal winced as I gently palpated the abdomen, and there was

  a tenderness throughout the stomach and intestines.

  "She has gastroenteritis,' I said. "But it seems fairly mild and I think

  it should clear up quite soon. I'll give you some medicine for her and

  you'd better keep her on a light diet for a few days.'

  Yes, I'll do that. Thank you very much.' Mrs Flaxton's smile deepened as

  she patted her dog's head. She was about twenty-three and she and her

  young husband had only recently come to Darrowby. He was a

  representative of one of the big agricultural firms which supplied meal

  and cattle cake to the farms and I saw him occasionally on my rounds.

  Like his wife, and indeed his dog, he gave off an ambience of eager

  friendliness.

  I sent Mrs Flaxton off with a bottle of bismuth, kaolin and chlorodyne

  mixture which was one of our cherished treatments. The little dog

  trotted down the surgery steps, tail wagging, and I really didn't expect

  any more trouble.

  Three days later, however, Penny was in the surgery again. She was still

  vomiting and the diarrhoea had not taken up in the least.

  I got the dog on the table again and carried out a further examination

  but there was nothing significant to see. She had now had five days of

  this weakening condition but though she had lost a bit of her perkiness

  she still looked remarkably bright. The Toy Poodle is small but tough

  and very game and this one wasn't going to let anything get her down

  easily.

  But I still didn't like it. She couldn't go on like this. I decided to

  alter the treatment to a mixture of carbon and astringents which had

  served me well in the past.

  "This stuff looks a bit messy,' I said, as I gave Mrs Flaxton a powder

  box full of the black granules. "But I have had good results with it.

  She's still eating, isn't she, so I should mix it in her food.'

  "Oh thank you.' She gave me one of her marvelous smiles as she put the

  box in her bag and I walked along the passage with her to the door. She

  had left her pram at the foot of the steps and I knew before I looked

  under the hood what kind of baby I would find. Sure enough the chubby

  face on the pillow gazed at me with round friendly eyes and then split

  into a delighted grin.

  They were the kind of people I liked to see but as they moved off down

  the street I hoped for Penny's sake that I wouldn't be seeing them for a

  long time. However, it was not to be. A couple of days later they were

  back and this time the Poodle was showing signs of strain. As I examined

  her she stood motionless and dead-eyed with only the occasional twitch

  of her tail as I stroked her head and spoke to her.

  "I'm afraid she's just the same, Mr Herriot,' her mistress said. "She's

  not eating much now and whatever she does goes straight through her. And

  she has a terrific thirst - always at her water bowl and then she brings

  it back.'

  I nodded. "I know. This inflammation inside her gives her a raging

  desire for water and of course the more she drinks the more she vomits.

  And this i