Vet in a Spin

by James Herriot

  And I wished the lady wouldn't keep on about Emmeline and the

  squeaking.

  I shot a side glance at David. I had been holding forth to him, tell

  ing him how ours was a scientific profession and that he would have to

  be really hot at physics, chemistry and biology to gain entrance to a

  veterinary school, and it didn't fit in with all this.

  Maybe I could guide the conversation along more clinical lines.

  "Any more symptoms?" I asked.

  "Any cough, constipation, diarrhoea? Does she ever cry out in pain?"

  The lady shook her head.

  "No, nothing like that. She just moons around loo king at us with such

  a pitiful expression and searching for Emmeline."

  Oh dear, there it was again. I cleared my throat.

  "She never vomits at all?

  Especially after a meal?"

  "Never. When she does eat a little she goes straight away to find

  Emmeline and takes her to her basket."

  "Really? Well I can't see that that has anythin~ to do with it. Are

  vou sure she isn't lame at times?"

  The lady didn't seem to be listening.

  "And when she gets Emmeline into her basket she sort of circles around,

  scratching the blanket as though she was ma king a bed for the little

  thing."

  I gritted my teeth. Would she never stop? Then a light flashed in the

  darkness.

  "Wait a minute," I said.

  "Did you say ma king a bed?"

  "Yes, she scratches around for ages then puts Emmeline down."

  "Ah yes." The next question would settle it.

  "When was she last in season?"

  The lady tapped a finger against her cheek.

  "Let me see. It was in the middle f May that would be about nine weeks

  ago."

  There wasn't a mystery any more.

  "Roll her over, please," I said.

  With Lucy stretched on her back, her eyes regarding the surgery ceiling

  with deep emotion, I ran my fingers over the mammary glands. They were

  turgid and swollen. I gently squeezed one of the teats and a bead of

  milk appeared.

  "She's got false pregnancy," I said.

  "What on earth is that?" The lady looked at me, round-eyed "Oh, it's

  quite common in bitches. They get the idea they are going to have

  ~Pups and around the end of the gestation period they start this

  business.

  Making . ~, a bed for the pups is typical, but some of them actually

  swell in the abdom} Thev do all sorts of Deculiar thin~s."

  ~ ve' "My goodness, how extraordinary!" The lady began to laugh.

  "Lucy, you' little thing, worrying us over nothing." She looked at me

  across the table.

  "E

  long is she going to be like this?"

  I turned on the hot tap and began to wash my hands.

  "Not for long. I'll you some tablets for her. If she's not much

  better in a week come back for more But you needn't worry even if it

  takes a little bit longer she'll be her old in the end."

  I went through to the dispensary, put the tablets in a box and handed t

  over. The lady thanked me then turned to her pet who was sit ting on

  the fioor loo king dreamily into space.

  "Come along, Lucy," she said, but the poodle took no notice.

  "Lucy! Da hear me? We're going now!" She began to walk briskly along

  the passag.

  the little animal merely put her head on one side and appeared to be

  heark~ to inward music. After a minute her mistress reappeared and

  regarded her some exasperation.

  "Oh really, you are naughty. I suppose there's only one She opened her

  handbag and produced the rubber toy.

  "Squeak-squeak," went Emmeline and the poodle raised her eyes with

  adoration.

  "Squeak-squeak, squeak-squeak." The sound retreated alon passage and

  Lucy followed entranced until she disappeared round the corridor I

  turned to David with an apologetic grin.

  "Right," I said, 'we'll get o the road. I know you want to see farm

  practice and I assure vou it's different from what you've seen here."

  l . , Sit ting in the car, I continued.

  "Mind you, don't get me wrong. I'm i~ decrying small animal work. In

  fact I'd have to admit that it is the most highq skilled branch of the

  profession and I personally think that small animal surg~ is

  tremendously demanding. Just don't judge it all by Emmeline. Anyway,

  43 have one doggy visit before we go out into the country."

  "What's that?" the lad asked.

  "Well, I've had a call from a Mr Ring ton to say that his dalmatian

  bitch completely altered her behaviour. In fact she's acting so

  strangely that he doc~ want to bring her to the surgery."

  "What do you think that might be?"

  ~ G~ ~/~ Ll IJiJ~I~ ~_ "~; : I thought for a moment.

  "It seems a bit silly, but the first thing that comc?i my mind is

  rabies. This is the most dreadful dog disease of all, but thank heaven

  we've managed to keep it out of this country so far by strict quaranti'

  I regulations. But at college it was hammered into us so forcibly that

  it is al~ at the back of my mind even though I don't really expect to

  see it. But this d"YI ~ of the dalmatian could be anything. I only

  hope she hasn't turned savage because that's the sort of thing that

  leads to a dog being put down and I hate that."; Mr l7;ngton's opening

  remark didn't cheer me.

  '~become really fierce lately, Mr Herriot. Started moping about a ~ew

  days ago and frankly I daren't trust her with st rangers now. ~ ~I![

  st man by the ankle this morning Most embarrassing."

  'ank lower.

  "Actually bit somebody! It's unbelievable shc's..

  ,s~ ways been able to do anything with her."

  ~, ~; w," he muttered.

  "She's marvellous with children, too. I )'~.come and have a look at

  her."

  on i~ > 7", ~s sit ting in a corner of the lounge and she glanced up s~

  "She ~ e~, t0~,~s a favourite patient and I approached her confide~

  "Emmelin~ ~c '~ 1, and held out my hand. I usually had a tail-la~ ;

  "The doll." S$~ ~from this animal but today she froze into co~ji

  become devoted to h~. ~hdrew silently from her teeth. It wasn't an o~

  ~ . ~.d snarl it was as though the upper lip was operated by strings

  and there was something unnerving about it.

  "What's the matter, old girl?" I enquired, and again the gleaming

  incisors were soundlessly exposed. And as I stared uncomprehendingly I

  could see that the eyes were glaring at me with blazing primitive

  hatred. Tessa was unrecognisable.

  '~vIr Herriot." Her owner looked at me apprehensively.

  "I don't think I'd go any nearer if I were you."

  I withdrew a pace.

  "Yes, I'm inclined to agree with you. I don't think she'd cooperate if

  I tried to examine her. But never mind, tell me all about her."

  "Well, there's really nothing more to tell," Mr Ring ton said

  helplessly.

  "She's just different like this."

  "Appetite good?"

  "Yes, fine. Eats every thing in front of her."

  ; "No unusual symptoms at all?"

  l"None, apart from the altered temperament. The family can handle her,

  but quite fra
nkly I think she'd bite any st ranger who came too

  near."

  I ran my fingers through my hair.

  "Any change in family circumstances? New baby? Different domestic

  help? Unusual people coming to the house?"

  "No, nothing like that. There's been no change."

  "I ask because animals sometimes act like this out of jealousy or

  disapproval."

  "Sorry." Mr Ring ton shrugged his shoulders.

  "Everything is just as it's al ways been. Only this morning my wife

  was wondering if Tessa was still cross with us because we kept her

  indoors for three weeks while she was in season. But that was a long

  time ago about two months now."

  I whipped round and faced him.

  "Two months?"

  "Yes, about that."

  "Surely not again!" I gestured to the owner.

  "Would you please lift her up so that she's stan ding on her hind

  legs?"

  "Like this?" He put his arms round the dalmatian's chest and hoisted

  till she was in the upright position with her abdomen facing me.

  And it was as if I knew beforehand. Because I felt not the slightest

  surprise when I saw the twin row of engorged teats. It was

  unnecessary, but I leaned forward, grasped a little nipple and sent a

  white jet spurting.

  "She's bulging with milk," I said.

  "Milk ?"

  "Yes, she's got a false pregnancy. This is one of the more unusual

  side effects, but I'll give you some tablets and she'll soon be the

  docile Tessa again."

  As we got back into the car I had a good idea what the schoolboy was

  thinking.

  He would be wondering where the chemistry, physics and biology came

  in.

  j "Sorry about that, David," I said.

  "I've been tell ing you all about the constant variety of a vet's life

  and the first two cases you see are the same condition.

  But we are going out to the farms now and as I said, you'll find it

  very different.

  I

  mean, those two cases were really psychological things. You don't get

  that in COuntry practice. It's a bit rough but it's real and down to

  earth."

  As we drove into the farmyard I saw the farmer carrying a bag of meal

  over the cobbles.

  I got out of the car with David.

  "You've got a pig ill, Mr Fisher?"

  "Aye, a big sow. She's in 'ere." He led the way into a pen and

  pointed to a huge white pig Iying on her side.

  "She~s been off it for a few days," he said.

  "Hardly eats owt - just picks at her food. And she just lays there all

  t'time. Ah don't think she's got strength to get to her feet."

  My thermometer had been in the pig's rectum as he spoke and I fished it

  out l ~ ~ :: and read the temperature. It was 102-2 - dead normal. I

  auscultated the ch~ and palpated the abdomen with growing puzzlement.

  No thing wrong. I fool ~ over at the trough nearby. It was filled to

  the brim with fresh meal and wet' - untouched. And pigs do love their

  food. ..; I nudged her thigh with my fist.

  "Come on, lass, get up." And I followed; with a brisk slap across the

  rump. A healthy pig would have leaped to her fe.

  but the sow never moved.

  I tried not to scratch my head. There was something very funny here.

  '~ she ever been ill before, Mr Fisher?"

  "Nay, never ailed a thing and she's all us been a real lively pig, too.

  Ah ca~ reckon it un."

  Nor could I. "What beats me," I said, 'is that she doesn't look like a

  si; I animal. She's not trembling or anxious, she's Iying there as if

  she hadn't a ra

  - ;.; I

  .~:~.

  "Aye, you're right, Mr Herriot. She's as 'appy as Larry, but she'll

  neithe~ move nor eat. It's a rum 'un, isn't it?" :~; It was very rum

  indeed. I squatted on my heels, watching the big sow. She reached

  forward and pushed gently with her snout at the straw bedding roun~ her

  head. Sick pigs never did that. It was a gesture of well-being. And

  these little grunts which issued from deep in her chest. They were

  grunts of dee~3., contentment and there was something familiar about

  the sound of them ..~-~ j something lurking at the back of my mind

  which wouldn't come forward. It we' ~ the same with the way the sow

  eased herself further on to her side, pushing that great stretch of

  abdomen outward as though in offering. `$ i.

  I had heard and seen it so many times before the happy sounds, the

  careful movements. Then I remembered. Of course! She was like a sow

  with a litter;' only there was no litter. ;.

  A wave of disbelief flowed over me. Oh no, no, please not a third

  time! It we'; dark in the pen and I couldn't get a clear view of the

  mammary glands.

  I turned to the farmer.

  "Open the door a little will you, please."

  As the sunshine flooded in every thing was obvious. It was mere

  routine reach out to the long tumefied udder and squirt the milk

  against the wall.

  I straightened up wearily and was about to make my now common pl"

  announcement when David did it for me.

  "False pregnancy?" he said.

  I nodded dumbly.

  "What was that?" enquired Mr Fisher. ~.: "Well your sow has got it

  into her head that she is pregnant," I said.

  "Not onl~ that, but she thinks she has given birth to a litter and

  she's suck line the imaginary~ piglets now. You can see it, can't

  you?"

  The farmer eave a lone soft whistle.

  "Aye ... aye ... .` l

  -------D --- ~- O ~S

  ~ D ~ '~-"D -- . you re right. That i what she's coin' . . . enjoy

  in' it, too." He took off his cap, rubbed the top of his' head and put

  the cap on again.

  "Well, there's all us sum mat new, isn't there.7~.

  It wasn't new to David, of course. Old stuff, in fact, and I didn't

  want to 10 him further with a lengthy dissertation. ,~: "No thing to

  worry about, Mr Fisher," I said hastily.

  "Call down to the surgery. I'll give you something to put in her food.

  She'll soon be back to normal. the pen the sow gave a deep sigh of

  utter fulfilment and moved 1 ~e utmost care to avoid crushing her

  phantom family. I fool., ~ could almost see the long pink row of

  piglets sucking bud to dispel the vision and went out to the car.

  opening the door when the farmer's wife trotted towards me.

  "I've; call from your surgery, Mr Herriot. They want you to go t~i

  ~ast Farm. There's a cow calving."

  An emergency like this in the middle of a round was usually an

  irritant, but tOday the news came as a relief. I had promised this

  schoolboy some genuine cOuntry practice and I was beginning to feel

  embarrassed.

  "Well, David," I said with a light laugh as we drove away.

  "You must be thinking all my patients are neurotic. But you're going

  to see a bit of the real thing now there's nothing airy-fairy about a

  calving cow. This is where the hard work of our job comes in. It's

  often pretty tough fighting against a big Straining cow, because you

  must remember the vet only sees the difficult cases where the calf is
/>
  laid wrong."

  '. iThe situation of East Farm seemed to add weight to my words. We

  were bumping up the fell side along a narrow track which was never

  meant for motor cars and I winced as the exhaust grated against the

  jutting rocks.

  The farm was perched almost on the edge of the hilltop and behind it

  the sparse fields, stolen from the moorland, rolled away to the

  skyline. The crumbling stonework and broken roof tiles testified to

  the age of the squat grey house.

  I pointed to some figures, faintly visible on the massive stone lintel

  above the front door.

  "What does that date mean to you, David?"

  "Sixteen sixty-six, the Great Fire of London," he replied promptly.

  "Well done. Strange to think they were building this place in the same

  year as old London burned down."

  Mr Rogers appeared, carrying a steaming bucket and a towel.

  "She's out in t'field, Mr Herriot, but she's a quiet cow and easy to

  catch."

  "All right." I followed him through the gate. It was another little

  annoyance when the farmer didn't have the cow inside for me but again I

  felt that if David wanted to be a vet he ought to know that a lot of

  our work was carried out in the open, often in the cold and rain.

  Even now on this July morning a cool breeze whipped round my chest and

  back as I pulled off my shirt. It waS never very warm in the high

  country of the Dales but I felt at home here. With the cow stan ding

  patiently as the farmer held her halter, the bucket perched among the

  tufts of wiry grass, and only a few stunted wind-bent trees breaking

  the harsh sweep of green, it seemed that at last this boy was seeing me

  in my proper place.

  I soaped my arms to the shoulders.

  "Hold the tail, will you, David. This is where I find out what kind of

  job it's going to be."

  As I slipped my hand into the cow it struck me that it would be no bad

  thing if it was a hard calving. If the lad saw me losing a bit of

  sweat it would give him a truer picture of the life in front of him.

  "Sometimes these jobs take an hour or more," I said.

  "But you have the reward of delivering a new living creature. Seeing a

  calf wriggling on the ground at the end of it is the biggest thrill in

  practice."

  I reached forward, my mind alive with the possibilities. Posterior?

  Head back? Breech? But as I groped through the open cervix into the

  uterus I felt a growing astonishment. There was nothing there.

  I withdrew my arm and leaned for a moment on the hairy rump. The day's

  events were taking on a dreamlike quality. Then I looked up at the

  farmer.

  "There's no calf in this cow, Mr Rogers."

  "Eh ?"

  "She's empty. She's calved already."

  The farmer gazed around him, scanning the acres of bare grass.

  "Well where the hangmen" is the thing? This cow was mess in' about

  last night and I thought she'd calve, but there was nowt to find this

  morn in'."

  His attention was caught by a cry from the right.

  "Hey, Willie! Just a minute, Willie!" It was Bob Sellars from the

  next farm.

  He was leaning over the dry stone wall about twenty yards away.

  l~ :~.

  "What's matter, Bob?" . - "Oh I know all about that." He waved a

  careless hand.

  "But there's no hurry.

  "Ah thowt ah'd better tell ye. Ah saw that cow hi din' her calf this

  moruj ~You've time for a bit of fun first."

  "Hi din' . . .? What are ye on about?" ~"Just as you say sir' I said

  and followed him out of the hut. Nobody was "Ahtm not jokin' nor jest