James Herriot's Dog Stories Read online

  ‘There’s absolutely no improvement, Mr Herriot.’ The tremble was back in her voice. ‘I . . . I do wish you’d come and see him again.’

  I couldn’t see much point in viewing this perfectly healthy animal again but I promised to call. I had a busy day and it was after six o’clock before I got round to The Laurels. There were several cars in the drive and when I went into the house I saw that Mrs Rumney had a few people in for drinks; people like herself – upper class and of obvious refinement. In fact I felt rather a lout in my working clothes among the elegant gathering.

  Mrs Rumney was about to lead me through to the kitchen when the door burst open and Cedric bounded delightedly into the midst of the company. Within seconds an aesthetic-looking gentleman was frantically beating off the attack as the great feet ripped down his waistcoat. He got away at the cost of a couple of buttons and the Boxer turned his attention to one of the ladies. She was in imminent danger of losing her dress when I pulled the dog off her.

  Pandemonium broke out in the graceful room. The hostess’s plaintive appeals rang out above the cries of alarm as the big dog charged around, but very soon I realised that a more insidious element had crept into the situation. The atmosphere in the room became rapidly charged with an unmistakable effluvium and it was clear that Cedric’s unfortunate malady had reasserted itself.

  I did my best to shepherd the animal out of the room but he didn’t seem to know the meaning of obedience and I chased him in vain. And as the embarrassing minutes ticked away I began to realise for the first time the enormity of the problem which confronted Mrs Rumney. Most dogs break wind occasionally but Cedric was different: he did it all the time. And while his silent emanations were perhaps more treacherous, there was no doubt that the audible ones were painfully distressing in company like this.

  Cedric made it worse, because at each rasping expulsion he would look round enquiringly at his back end, then gambol about the room as though the fugitive zephyr was clearly visible to him and he was determined to corner it.

  It seemed a year before I got him out of there. Mrs Rumney held the door wide as I finally managed to steer him towards it but the big dog wasn’t finished yet. On his way out he cocked a leg swiftly and directed a powerful jet against an immaculate trouser leg.

  After that night I threw myself into the struggle on Mrs Rumney’s behalf. I felt she desperately needed my help, and I made frequent visits and tried innumerable remedies. I consulted my colleague Siegfried on the problem and he suggested a diet of charcoal biscuits. Cedric ate them in vast quantities and with evident enjoyment but they, like everything else, made not the slightest difference to his condition.

  And all the time I pondered upon the enigma of Mrs Rumney. She had lived in Darrowby for several years but the townsfolk knew little about her. It was a matter of debate whether she was a widow or separated from her husband. But I was not interested in such things; the biggest mystery to me was how she ever got involved with a dog like Cedric.

  It was difficult to think of any animal less suited to her personality. Apart from his regrettable affliction he was in every way the opposite to herself; a great thick-headed rumbustious extrovert totally out of place in her gracious ménage. I never did find out how they came together but on my visits I found that Cedric had one admirer at least.

  He was Con Fenton, a retired farm worker who did a bit of jobbing gardening and spent an average of three days a week at The Laurels. The Boxer romped down the drive after me as I was leaving and the old man looked at him with undisguised admiration.

  ‘By gaw,’ he said, ‘he’s a fine dog, is that!’

  ‘Yes, he is, Con, he’s a good chap, really.’ And I meant it. You couldn’t help liking Cedric when you got to know him. He was utterly amiable and without vice and he gave off a constant aura not merely of noxious vapours but of bonhomie. When he tore off people’s buttons or sprinkled their trousers he did it in a spirit of the purest amity.

  ‘Just look at them limbs!’ breathed Con, staring rapturously at the dog’s muscular thighs. ‘By heck, ’e can jump ower that gate as if it weren’t there. He’s what ah call a dog!’

  As he spoke it struck me that Cedric would be likely to appeal to him because he was very like the Boxer himself: not over-burdened with brains, built like an ox with powerful shoulders and a big constantly-grinning face – they were two of a kind.

  ‘Aye, ah allus likes it when t’missus lets him out in t’garden,’ Con went on. He always spoke in a peculiar snuffling manner. ‘He’s grand company.’

  I looked at him narrowly. No, he wouldn’t be likely to notice Cedric’s complaint since he always saw him out of doors.

  On my way back to the surgery I brooded on the fact that I was achieving absolutely nothing with my treatment. And though it seemed ridiculous to worry about a case like this, there was no doubt the thing had begun to prey on my mind. In fact I began to transmit my anxieties to Siegfried. As I got out of the car he was coming down the steps of Skeldale House and he put a hand on my arm.

  ‘You’ve been to The Laurels, James? Tell me,’ he enquired solicitously, ‘how is your farting Boxer today?’

  ‘Still at it, I’m afraid,’ I replied, and my colleague shook his head in commiseration.

  We were both defeated. Maybe if chlorophyll tablets had been available in those days they might have helped, but as it was I had tried everything. It seemed certain that nothing would alter the situation. And it wouldn’t have been so bad if the owner had been anybody else but Mrs Rumney; I found that even discussing the thing with her had become almost unbearable.

  Siegfried’s student brother Tristan didn’t help, either. When seeing practice he was very selective in the cases he wished to observe, but he was immediately attracted to Cedric’s symptoms and insisted on coming with me on one occasion. I never took him again because as we went in the big dog bounded from his mistress’s side and produced a particularly sonorous blast as if in greeting.

  Tristan immediately threw out a hand in a dramatic gesture and declaimed: ‘Speak on, sweet lips that never told a lie!’ That was his only visit. I had enough trouble without that.

  I didn’t know it at the time but a greater blow awaited me. A few days later Mrs Rumney was on the phone again.

  ‘Mr Herriot, a friend of mine has such a sweet little Boxer bitch. She wants to bring her along to be mated with Cedric.’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘She wants to mate her bitch with my dog.’

  ‘With Cedric . . . ?’ I clutched at the edge of the desk. It couldn’t be true! ‘And . . . and are you agreeable?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  I shook my head to dispel the feeling of unreality. I found it incomprehensible that anyone should want to reproduce Cedric, and as I gaped into the receiver a frightening vision floated before me of eight little Cedrics all with his complaint. But of course such a thing wasn’t hereditary. I took a grip of myself and cleared my throat.

  ‘Very well, then, Mrs Rumney, you’d better go ahead.’

  There was a pause. ‘But Mr Herriot, I want you to supervise the mating.’

  ‘Oh really, I don’t think that’s necessary.’ I dug my nails into my palm. ‘I think you’ll be all right without me.’

  ‘Oh but I would be much happier if you were there. Please come,’ she said appealingly.

  Instead of emitting a long-drawn groan I took a deep breath.

  ‘Right,’ I said. ‘I’ll be along in the morning.’

  All that evening I was obsessed by a feeling of dread. Another acutely embarrassing session was in store with this exquisite woman. Why was it I always had to share things like this with her? And I really feared the worst. Even the daftest dog, when confronted with a bitch in heat, knows instinctively how to proceed, but with a really ivory-skulled animal like Cedric I wondered . . .

  And next morning all my fears were realised. The bitch, Trudy, was a trim little creature and showed every sign of willingness to cooperate. Cedri