Vet in Harness Read online

would I? Heh, inch, heh, heh!'

  The fact that I had heard this joke about two thousand times interfered

  with my full participation in the merriment but I managed a cracked

  laugh in return.

  "That's perfectly true, Mr Fryer. Well, why have you rung me?'

  "Damn, I've told ye - to find out what the trouble is.'

  "Yes, I understand that, but I'd like some details. What do you mean

  when you say she's bad?'

  "Well, she's just a bit off it.'

  "Quite, but could you tell me a little more?'

  A pause. "She's dowry, like.'

  "Anything else?'

  "No .. . no .. . she's a right poorly pig, though.'

  I spent a few moments in thought. "Is she doing anything funny?'

  "Funny? Funny? Nay, there's nowt funny about t'job, I'll tell the!

  It's no laughin' matter.'

  "Well .. . er ... let me put it this way. Why are you calling me out?'

  "I'm calling ye out because you're a vet. That's your job, isn't it?'

  I tried again. "It would help if I knew what to bring with me. What are

  her symptoms?'

  "Symptoms? Well, she's just off colour, like.'

  "Yes, but what is she doing?'

  "She's doin' nowt. That's what bothers me.'

  "Let's see.' I scratched my head. "Is she very ill?'

  "I reckon she's in bad fettle.'

  "But would you say it was an urgent matter?'

  Another long pause. "Well, she's nobbut middlin'. She's not framin' at

  all.'

  "Yes .. . yes .. . and how long has she been like this?'

  "Oh, for a bit.'

  "But how long exactly?'

  "For a good bit.'

  "But Mr Fryer, I want to know when she started these symptoms. How long

  has she been affected?'

  "Oh .. . ever since we got 'er.'

  Ah, and when was that?'

  Well, she came wi' the others .. .'

  Chapter Eleven.

  It was going to take a definite effort of will to get out of the car.

  I had driven about ten miles from Darrowby, thinking all the time that

  the Dales always looked their coldest, not when they were covered with

  snow, but as now, when the first sprinkling streaked the bare flanks of

  the fells in bars of black and white like the ribs of a crouching beast.

  And now in front of me was the farm gate rattling on its hinges as the

  wind shook it.

  The car, heaterless and draughty as it was, seemed like a haven in an

  uncharitable world and I gripped the wheel tightly with my

  woollen-gloved hands for a few moments before opening the door. The wind

  almost tore the handle from my fingers as I got out but I managed to

  crash the door shut before stumbling over the frozen mud to the gate.

  Muffled as I was in heavy coat and scarf pulled up to my ears I could

  feel the icy gusts biting at my face, whipping up my nose and hammering

  painfully into the air spaces in my head.

  I had driven through and, streaming-eyed, was about to get back into the

  car when I noticed something unusual. There was a frozen pond just off

  the path and among the rime-covered rushes which fringed the dead

  opacity of the surface a small object stood out, shiny black.

  I went over and looked closer. It was a tiny kitten, probably about six

  weeks old, huddled and immobile, eyes tightly closed. Bending down I

  poked gently at the furry body. It must be dead; a morsel like this

  couldn't possibly survive in such cold .. . but no, there was a spark of

  life because the mouth opened soundlessly for a second then closed.

  Quickly I lifted the little creature and tucked it inside my coat. As I

  drove into the farmyard I called to the farmer who was carrying two

  buckets out of the calf house. "I've got one of your kittens here, Mr

  Butler. It must have strayed outside.'

  Mr Butler put down his buckets and looked blank. "Kitten? We haven't got

  no kittens at present.'

  I showed him my find and he looked more puzzled.

  "Well that's a rum 'un, there's no black cats on this spot. We've all

  sorts o' colours but no black 'uns.'

  "Well he must have come from somewhere else,' I said. "Though I can't

  imagine anything so small travelling very far. It's rather mysterious.'

  I held the kitten out and he engulfed it with his big, work-roughened

  hand.

  "Poor little beggar, he's only just alive. I'll take him into t'house

  and see if the missus can do owl for him.'

  In the farm kitchen Mrs Butler was all concern. "Oh what a shame!' She

  smoothed back the bedraggled hair with one finger. "And it's got such a

  pretty face.' She looked up at me. "What is it, anyway, a him or a her?'

  I took a quick look behind the hind legs. "It's a Tom.'

  "Right,' she said. "I'll get some warm milk into him but first of all

  we'll give him the old cure.'

  She went over to the fireside oven on the big black kitchen range,

  opened the door and popped him inside.

  I smiled. It was the classical procedure when new-born lambs were found

  suffering from cold and exposure; into the oven they went and the

  results were often dramatic. Mrs Butler left the door partly open and I

  could just see the little black figure inside; he didn't seem to care

  much what was happening to him.

  The next hour I spent in the byre wrestling with the hind feet of a cow.

  The cleats were overgrown and grossly misshapen and upturned, causing

  the animal to hobble along on her heels. My job was to pare and hack

  away the excess horn and my long held opinion that the hind feet of a

  cow were never meant to be handled by man was thoroughly confirmed. We

  had a rope round the hock and the leg pulled up over a-beam in the roof

  but the leg still pistoned back and forth while I hung on till my teeth

  rattled. By the time I had finished the sweat was running into my eyes

  and I had quite forgotten the cold day outside.

  Still, I thought, as I eased the kinks from my spine when I had

  finished, there were compensations. There was a satisfaction in the

  sight of the cow standing comfortably on two almost normal looking feet.

  "Well that's summat like,' Mr Butler grunted. "Come in the house and

  wash your hands.'

  In the kitchen as I bent over the brown earthenware sink I kept glancing

  across at the oven.

  Mrs Butler laughed. "Oh he's still with us. Come and have a look.'

  It was difficult to see the kitten in the dark interior but when I

  spotted him I put out my hand and touched him and he turned his head

  towards me.

  "He's coming round,' I said. "That hour in there has worked wonders.'

  "Doesn't often fail.' The farmers wife lifted him out. "I think he's a

  little tough 'un.' She began to spoon warm milk into the tiny mouth. "I

  reckon we'll have him lappin' in a day or two.'

  "You're going to keep him, then?'

  "Too true we are. I'm going to call him Moses.'

  "Moses?'

  "Aye, you found him among the rushes, didn't you?'

  I laughed. "That's right. It's a good name.'

  I was on the Butler farm about a fortnight later for the ever recurring

  job of 'cleansing' a cow and I kept looking around for Moses. Farmers

  rarely have their cats indoors and I thought that if the black kitte