Every Living Thing Read online

  “I’ve come to see your lame cow,” I announced cheerfully.

  They looked at each other expressionlessly, then back at me.

  “We haven’t no lame cow,” Josh said.

  “But…there was a call from you this morning.”

  Again the blank look between them.

  “Well…there must be some mistake.” I tried a light laugh, which wasn’t reciprocated, and I couldn’t help looking along the line of cows.

  Seb raised a hand. “Honest, Mr. Herriot. There’s none of ’em lame. You can examine them if you like.”

  “No, no, no, of course not. I…somebody in the practice has got a message wrong. Do you mind if I use your phone?”

  Seb led me into the kitchen and as I dialled the surgery it didn’t make me feel any better when I saw him lift his spectacle case from the table and slip it unobtrusively into his pocket. When I got through, I found that I should have gone to the Borthwicks’ farm, only half a mile away. But what was happening? Why did I have to keep making a fool of myself here?

  I lifted the ball-point by the side of the phone and wrote the name down so that I could not make any more mistakes, and turned to the two young wives. “I’m terribly sorry, I’m always being such a nuisance to you.” I was about to leave when one of them held out her hand. “Could we have our pen back, Mr. Herriot?”

  Hot-faced, I took it from my pocket and fled.

  My embarrassment was acute when I was called back to the farm within a few days.

  When I arrived, Seb was pointing gloomily at a young heifer lying on the cow-house floor. “She just can’t get up,” he said, “and that hind leg’s stuck out, funny-like.”

  I bent over the animal and flicked her ear. “Come on, lass, let’s see you try.”

  She replied by struggling briefly, then subsided onto the cobbles, and there was no doubt that her right hind leg was the cause of the trouble. It seemed to be useless.

  I ran my hand up the shaggy limb and when I reached the pelvic region diagnosis was easy.

  “She’s got a dislocated hip, Seb,” I said. “There’s nothing broken, but the head of the femur is right out of its socket.”

  “Are ye sure?” The farmer looked at me doubtfully.

  “Absolutely positive. Here, feel this prominence. In fact, you can just about see it sticking up there.”

  Seb didn’t bother to take his hands out of his pockets. “Well, ah don’t know. I thought she’d maybe just strained ’erself. Maybe you could give me summat to rub on ’er— that might put her right.”

  “No, I assure you. There’s no doubt in my mind.”

  “Awright, then, what do we do?”

  “Well, we’ll have to try to pull the joint back into place. It’s not easy, but since it has only just happened I’d say there was a good chance of success.”

  The farmer sniffed. “Very well, then. On ye go.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, smiling, “but it’s quite a big job and I can’t do it by myself. In fact, you and I can’t do it. We’ll need some help.”

  “Help? I haven’t got no ’elp. Josh is right over on the far field.”

  “Well, I’m really sorry about that, but you’ll have to get him back. And I hate to say it, but we’ll also need one of your neighbours to lend a hand. And he’d better be a big strong chap, too.”

  “Bloody ’ell!” Seb stared at me. “What’s all this for?”

  “I know it seems a big fuss to you, but although she’s only a young beast, she’s big and strong and in order to get the joint back in place we have to overcome the muscular resistance. It needs a right good pull, I can tell you. I’ve done a lot of these jobs and I know.”

  He nodded. “Ah, well, I’ll go and see if Charlie Lawson can come over. You’ll wait ’ere, then?”

  “No, I’ll have to go back to the surgery for the chloroform muzzle.”

  “Chloroform! What the ’ell next?”

  “I told you about the muscular resistance. We need to put her to sleep to overcome that.”

  “Now, look ’ere, Mr. Herriot.” The farmer lifted a portentous forefinger. “Are ye sure we have to go through all this carry-on? Don’t ye think we could just rub summat on? A bit of embrocation, maybe?”

  “I’m sorry, Seb, it’s all necessary.”

  He turned and strode out of the cow house, muttering, while I hurried across to my car.

  On the journey to Darrowby and back, two thoughts were uppermost in my mind. This was one of the tricky jobs in veterinary practice but, when successful, it was spectacular. A hopelessly lame animal would rise and walk away, good as new. And I did feel I badly needed something to resuscitate my reputation on this farm.

  When I returned with the muzzle, Josh and Charlie Lawson were waiting in the yard with Seb. “Now, Mr. Herriot,” “Now then, Mr. Herriot,” they said, but they looked at me sceptically, and I could tell that the other brother had been voicing his doubts.

  “It’s good of you gentlemen to rally round,” I said cheerfully. “I hope you’re all feeling strong. It’s a tough job, this.”

  Charlie Lawson grinned and rubbed his hands. “Aye, we’ll do our best.”

  “Okay, now.” I looked down at the heifer. “We’d better move her nearer the door. You’ll get a stronger pull that way. Then we’ll get the chloroform muzzle on and rope the leg. You’ll haul away while I put pressure on the joint. But first let’s roll her over.”

  As the farmers pushed against the animal’s side, I tried to tuck the lame leg underneath her. As she rolled over, there was a loud click, and after a rapid look around her she rose to her feet and walked out through the door.

  The four of us watched her as she ambled across the yard and through a gate into the field. She was perfectly sound. Not the slightest trace of lameness.

  “Well, I’ve never seen that happen before,” I gasped. “The rolling movement and the pressure on the joint must have clicked it back. Would you believe it!”

  The three farmers gave me a level stare. It was clear that they didn’t believe it.

  Retreating to my car, I heard Seb confiding to the other two. “Might as well have rubbed summat on it.” And as I drove away past the heifer grazing contentedly on the green hillside, Siegfried’s words at the beginning of our partnership came back to me. “Our profession offers unparalleled opportunities for making a chump of yourself.”

  How true that was. How true it would always be. But why, why, why did it have to happen this time at the Hardwicks’?

  I couldn’t believe it when I saw the Hardwick name on the book for another visit less than a week afterwards.

  “Siegfried,” I said, “I wish you’d go there. There’s a jinx on me at that place.”

  He looked at me in surprise. “But it’s one of your favourite spots. And they always ask for you personally.”

  “Oh, I know, but I’ve got a feeling of doom at the moment.” I told him about my recent experiences.

  “Nonsense, James!” He made a dismissive gesture. “You’re imagining things. These are tiny happenings.” He sat back in his chair and laughed. “Amusing, I grant you, but of no importance. The Hardwicks are a grand family— they won’t have given a thought to such details.”

  “I’m not so sure. I know they’re good people, but I’m convinced they think I’ve got a screw loose. A touch of kleptomania for a start.”

  He laughed again. “Oh, what rubbish! Off you go. It’s only a sick pig. Nothing can go wrong this time.”

  It was possibly my imagination, but I thought the brothers looked a little apprehensive as I got out of the car at the farm. The pig in question was a sow with a family of a dozen piglets squealing around her. She was lying in a dark corner of the fold yard, and the gloom was such that I could hardly see the animal, but I was used to this and had always done a lot of my work by touch and feel.

  I climbed into the pen where the sow could only be seen as a dim bulk. I got out my thermometer and groped my way towards her rear end.