All Creatures Great and Small Read online

  D.O.A. is what we write in the day book. Dead on arrival. Just three words but they covered all kinds of situations—the end of milk fever cows, bloated bullocks, calves in fits. And tonight they meant that I wouldn’t be clipping old Ben’s claws any more.

  It wasn’t often these nephritis cases went off so suddenly but his urine albumen had been building up dangerously lately.

  “Well, it was quick, Miss Stubbs. I’m sure the old chap didn’t suffer at all.” My words sounded lame and ineffectual.

  The old lady was in full command of herself. No tears, only a fixity of expression as she looked down from the bed at her companion for so many years. My idea was to get him out of the place as quickly as possible and I pulled a blanket under him and lifted him up. As I was moving away, Miss Stubbs said, “Wait a moment.” With an effort she turned on to her side and gazed at Ben. Still without changing expression, she reached out and touched his head lightly. Then she lay back calmly as I hurried from the room.

  In the back kitchen I had a whispered conference with Mrs. Broadwith. “I’ll run down t’village and get Fred Manners to come and bury him,” she said. “And if you’ve got time could you stay with the old lady while I’m gone. Talk to her, like, it’ll do her good.”

  I went back and sat down by the bed. Miss Stubbs looked out of the window for a few moments then turned to me. “You know, Mr. Herriot,” she said casually. “It will be my turn next.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, tonight Ben has gone and I’m going to be the next one. I just know it.”

  “Oh, nonsense! You’re feeling a bit low, that’s all. We all do when something like this happens.” But I was disturbed. I had never heard her even hint at such a thing before.

  “I’m not afraid,” she said. “I know there’s something better waiting for me. I’ve never had any doubts.” There was silence between us as she lay calmly looking up at the card on the gas bracket.

  Then the head on the pillow turned to me again. “I have only one fear.” Her expression changed with startling suddenness as if a mask had dropped. The brave face was almost unrecognisable. A kind of terror flickered in her eyes and she quickly grasped my hand.

  “It’s my dogs and cats, Mr. Herriot. I’m afraid I might never see them when I’m gone and it worries me so. You see, I know I’ll be reunited with my parents and my brothers but … but …”

  “Well, why not with your animals?”

  “That’s just it.” She rocked her head on the pillow and for the first time I saw tears on her cheeks. “They say animals have no souls.”

  “Who says?”

  “Oh, I’ve read it and I know a lot of religious people believe it.”

  “Well I don’t believe it.” I patted the hand which still grasped mine. “If having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans. You’ve nothing to worry about there.”

  “Oh, I hope you’re right. Sometimes I lie at night thinking about it.”

  “I know I’m right, Miss Stubbs, and don’t you argue with me. They teach us vets all about animals’ souls.”

  The tension left her face and she laughed with a return of her old spirit. “I’m sorry to bore you with this and I’m not going to talk about it again. But before you go, I want you to be absolutely honest with me. I don’t want reassurance from you—just the truth. I know you are very young but please tell me—what are your beliefs? Will my animals go with me?”

  She stared intently into my eyes. I shifted in my chair and swallowed once or twice.

  “Miss Stubbs, I’m afraid I’m a bit foggy about all this,” I said. “But I’m absolutely certain of one thing. Wherever you are going, they are going too.”

  She still stared at me but her face was calm again. “Thank you, Mr. Herriot, I know you are being honest with me. That is what you really believe, isn’t it?”

  “I do believe it,” I said. “With all my heart I believe it.”

  It must have been about a month later and it was entirely by accident that I learned I had seen Miss Stubbs for the last time. When a lonely, penniless old woman dies people don’t rush up to you in the street to tell you. I was on my rounds and a farmer happened to mention that the cottage in Corby village was up for sale.

  “But what about Miss Stubbs?” I asked.

  “Oh, went off sudden about three weeks ago. House is in a bad state, they say—nowt been done at it for years.”

  “Mrs. Broadwith isn’t staying on, then?”

  “Nay, I hear she’s staying at t’other end of village.”

  “Do you know what’s happened to the dogs and cats?”

  “What dogs and cats?”

  I cut my visit short. And I didn’t go straight home though it was nearly lunch time. Instead I urged my complaining little car at top speed to Corby and asked the first person I saw where Mrs. Broadwith was living. It was a tiny house but attractive and Mrs. Broadwith answered my knock herself.

  “Oh, come in, Mr. Herriot. It’s right good of you to call.” I went inside and we sat facing each other across a scrubbed table top.

  “Well, it was sad about the old lady,” she said.

  “Yes, I’ve only just heard.”

  “Any road, she had a peaceful end. Just slept away at finish.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  Mrs. Broadwith looked round the room. “I was real lucky to get this place—it’s just what I’ve always wanted.”

  I could contain myself no longer. “What’s happened to the animals?” I blurted out.

  “Oh, they’re in t’garden,” she said calmly. “I’ve got a grand big stretch at back.” She got up and opened the door and with a surge of relief I watched my old friends pour in.

  Arthur was on my knee in a flash, arching himself ecstatically against my arm while his outboard motor roared sofdy above the barking of the dogs. Prince, wheezy as ever, tail fanning the air, laughed up at me delightedly between barks.

  “They look great, Mrs. Broadwith. How long are they going to be here?”

  “They’re here for good. I think just as much about them as t’old lady ever did and I couldn’t be parted from them. They’ll have a good home with me as long as they live.”

  I looked at the typical Yorkshire country face, at the heavy cheeks with their grim lines belied by the kindly eyes. “This is wonderful,” I said. “But won’t you find it just a bit … er … expensive to feed them?”

  “Nay, you don’t have to worry about that. I ’ave a bit put away.”

  “Well fine, fine, and I’ll be looking in now and then to see how they are. I’m through the village every few days.” I got up and started for the door.

  Mrs. Broadwith held up her hand. “There’s just one thing I’d like you to do before they start selling off the things at the cottage. Would you please pop in and collect what’s left of your medicines. They’re in t’front room.”

  I took the key and drove along to the other end of the village. As I pushed open the rickety gate and began to walk through the tangled grass the front of the cottage looked strangely lifeless without the faces of the dogs at the window; and when the door creaked open and I went inside the silence was like a heavy pall.

  Nothing had been moved. The bed with its rumpled blankets was still in the corner. I moved around, picking up half empty bottles, a jar of ointment, the cardboard box with old Ben’s tablets—a lot of good they had done him.

  When I had got everything I looked slowly round the little room. I wouldn’t be coming here any more and at the door I paused and read for the last time the card which hung over the empty bed.

  FORTY-FOUR

  I WAS SPENDING TUESDAY evening as I spent all the Tuesday evenings—staring at the back of Helen Alderson’s head at the Darrowby Music Society. It was a slow way of getting to know her better but I had been unable to think of a better idea.

  Since the morning on the high moor when I had set the cal