Vet in a Spin

by James Herriot

indoors at night with your books instead of boozing and chasing women.

  Is that clear?"

  "Quite." The young man inclined his head gracefully and turned down

  the .

  knob on the anaesthetic machine.

  His brother regarded him balefully for a few moments, breathing

  deeply.

  These remonstrations al ways took it out of him. Then he turned away

  quickly and left.

  Tristan's facade crumbled as soon as the door closed.

  "Watch the anaesthetic for a minute, Jim," he croaked. He went over to

  the .

  basin in the corner, filled a measuring jar with cold water and drank

  it at a long gulp. Then he soaked some cotton wool under the tap and

  applied it to his brow.

  "I wish he hadn't come in just then. I'm in no mood for the raised

  voices and angry words." He reached up to a large bottle of aspirins,

  swallowed a few and washed them down with another gargantuan draught.

  "All right then, Jim," he murmured as he returned to the table and took

  over the mask again.

  "Let's go."

  I bent once more over the sleeping dog. He was a Scottie called Hamish

  and his mistress, Miss Wester man, had brought him in two days ago.

  She was a retired school teacher and I al ways used to think she must

  have had little trouble in keeping her class in order. The chilly pale

  eyes loo king straight into mine reminded me that she was as tall as I

  was and the square jaw between the muscular shoulders completed a

  redoubtable presence.

  "Mr Herriot," she barked.

  "I want you to have a look at Hamish. I do hope it's nothing serious

  but his ear has become very swollen and painful. They don't get er -

  cancer there, do they?" For a moment the steady gaze wavered.

  "Oh that's most unlikely." I lifted the little animal's chin and

  looked at thc left ear which was drooping over the side of his face.

  His whole head, in fact, was askew as though dragged down by pain.

  Carefully I liDed the ear and touched the tense swelling with a

  forefingct Hamish looked around at me and whimpered.

  "Yes, I know, old chap. It's tender, isn't it?" As I turned to Miss

  Western~ I almost bumped into the close-cropped iron-grey head which

  was hovering close over the little dog.

  "He's got an aural haematoma," I said.

  "What on earth is that?"

  ., ' Lr' c' Opzn b "It's when the little blood vessels between the skin

  and cartilage of the ear rupture and the blood flows out and causes

  this acute distension."

  She patted the jet black shaggy coat.

  "But what causes it?"

  Canker, usually. Has he been shaking his head lately?"

  "Yes, now you mention it he has. Just as though he had got something

  in his ear and was trying to get rid of it."

  "Well that's what bursts the blood vessels. I can see he has a touch

  of canker though it isn't common in this breed."

  She nodded.

  "I see. And how can you cure it?"

  I "Only by an operation, I'm afraid."

  I"Oh dear!" She put her hand to her mouth.

  "I'm not keen on that."

  I"There's nothing to worry about," I said.

  "It's just a case of letting the blood out and stitching the layers of

  the ear together. If we don't do this soon he'll suffer a lot of pain

  and finish up with a caulifiower ear, and we don't want that because

  he's a bonny little chap."

  I meant it, too. Hamish was a proud-strutting, trim little dog. The

  Scottish terrier is an attractive creature and I often lament that

  there are so few around in these modern days.

  After some hesitation Miss Wester man agreed and we fixed a date two

  days from then. When she brough him in for the operation she deposited

  Hamish in my arms, stroked his head again and again then looked from

  Tristan to me and back agam.

  "You'll take care of him, won't you," she said, and the jaw jutted and

  the pale blue eyes stabbed. For a moment I felt like a little boy

  caught in mischief, and I think my colleague felt the same because he

  blew out his breath as the lady departed.

  "By gum, Jim, that's a tough baby," he muttered.

  "I wouldn't like to get on the wrong side of her."

  I nodded.

  "Yes, and she thinks all the world of this dog, so let's make a good

  job of him.

  After Siegfried's departure I lifted the ear which was now a turgid

  cone and made an incision along the inner skin. As the pent up blood

  gushed forth I caught it in an enamel dish, then I squeezed several big

  clots through the wound.

  "No wonder the poor little chap was in pain," I said softly.

  "He'll feel a lot better when he wakes up."

  I filled the cavity between skin and cartilage with sulphanilamide then

  began to stitch the layers together, using a row of buttons. You had

  to do something like this or the thing filled up again within a few

  days. When I first began to operate on aural haematomata I used to

  pack the interior with gauze then bandage the ear to the head. The

  owners often made little granny-hats to try to keep the bandage in

  place, but a frisky dog usually had it off very soon.

  The buttons were a far better idea and kept the layers in close

  contact, lessening the chance of distortion.

  By lunchtime Hamish had come round from the anaesthetic and though

  still slightly dopey he already seemed to be relieved that his bulging

  ear had been deflated. Miss Wester man had gone away for the day and

  was due to pick him up in the evening. The little dog, curled in his

  basket, waited philosophically.

  At tea time, Siegfried glanced across the table at his brother.

  "I'm going oflf to Braw ton for a few hours, Tristan," he said.

  "I want you to stay in the house and give Miss Wester man her dog when

  she arrives. I don't know just when she'll come." He scooped out a

  spoonful of jam.

  "You can keep an eye on the patient and do a bit of studying, too. It's

  about time you had a night at home."

  Tristan nodded.

  "Right, I'll do that." But I could see he wasn't enthusiastic.

  /~d VeC tn a ~pin When Siegfried had driven away Tristan rubbed his

  chin and gazed reflectively through the french window into the

  darkening garden.

  "This is distinctly awkward, Jim."

  "Why ?"

  "Well, Lydia has tonight off and I promised to see her." He whistled a

  fe~v bars under his breath.

  "It seems a pity to waste the opportunity just when things are building

  up nicely. I've got a strong feeling that girl fancies me. In fact

  she's nearly eating out of my hand."

  I looked at him wonderingly.

  "My God, I thought you'd want a bit of peace ' and quiet and an early

  bed after last night!"

  "Not me," he said.

  "I'm raring to go again."

  And indeed he looked fresh and fit, eyes sparkling, roses back in his

  cheeks "Look, Jim," he went on.

  "I don't suppose you could stick around with this dog?"

  I shrugged.

  "Sorry, Triss. I'm going back to see that cow of Ted Binns' - right at

 
the top of the Dale. I'll be away for nearly two hours."

  For a few moments he was silent, then he raised a finger.

  "I think I have the solution. It's quite simple, in fact it's perfect.

  I'll bring Lydia in here."

  "What! Into the house?"

  "Yes, into this very room. I can put Hamish in his basket by the fire

  and Lydia and I can occupy the sofa. Marvellous! What could be nicer

  on a cold winter's night. Cheap, too."

  "But Triss! How about Siegfried's lecture this morning? What if he

  comes home early and catches the two of you here?"

  Tristan lit a Woodbine and blew out an expansive cloud.

  "Not a chance. You~ worry about such tiny things, Jim. He's al ways

  late when he goes to Braw ton.

  There's no problem at all."

  "Well, please yourself," I said.

  "But I think you're asking for trouble.

  Anyway, shouldn't you be doing a bit of bacteriology? The exams are

  get ting close."

  He smiled seraphically through the smoke.

  "Oh, I'll have a quick read through it all in good time."

  I couldn't argue with him there. I al ways had to go over a thing

  about six times before it finally sank in, but with his brain the quick

  read would no doubt suffice. I went out on my call.

  I got back about eight o'clock and as I opeped the front door my mind

  was far from Tristan. Ted Binns's cow wasn't responding to my

  treatment and I was beginning to wonder if I was on the right track.

  When in doubt I liked to look the subject up and the books were on the

  shelves in the sit ting room. I hurried along the passage and threw

  open the door.

  For a moment I stood there bewildered, trying to reorientate my

  thoughts.

  The sofa was drawn close to the bright fire, the atmosphere was heavy

  witb cigarette smoke and the scent of perfume, but there was nobody to

  be seen.

  The most striking feature was the long curtain over the french window.

  It was wafting slowly downwards as though some object had just hurtled

  through it at great speed. I trotted over the carpet and peered out

  into the dark gard~n.

  From somewhere in the gloom I heard a scuffling noise, a thud and a

  muffl6t cry, then there was a pitter-patter followed by a shrill

  yelping. I stood for some time listening, then as my eyes grew

  accustomed to the darkness I walked dowe the long path under the high

  brick wall to the yard at the foot. The yard do~x was open as were the

  big double doors into the back lane, but there was no d*~ Slowly I

  retraced my steps to the warm oblong of light at the foot of the ~ old

  house. I was about to close the french window when I heard a steaW,L

  movement and an urgent whisper.

  ` iTI U OyLTI l~Y "Is that you, Jim?"

  Triss! Where the hell have you sprung from?"

  The young man tiptoed past me into the room and looked around him:

  anxiously.

  "It was you, then, not Siegfried?"

  "Yes, I've just come in."

  He flopped on the sofa and sunk his head in his hands.

  "Oh damn! I was just Iying here a few minutes ago with Lydia in my

  arms. At peace with the world.

  Everything was wonderful. Then I heard the front door open."

  "But you knew I was coming back' "Yes, and I'd have given you a shout,

  but for some reason I thought,

  "God help us, it's Siegfried!" It sounded like his step in the

  passage."

  "Then what happened?"

  He churned his hair around with his fingers.

  "Oh, I panicked. I was whispering lovely things into Lydia's ear, then

  the next second I grabbed her, threw her off the couch and out of the

  french window."

  "I heard a thud . . ."

  "Yes, that was Lydia falling into the rockery."

  "And then some sort of high-pitched cries. . ."

  He sighed and closed his eyes.

  "That was Lydia in the rose bushes. She doesn't know the geography of

  the place, poor lass."

  "Gosh, Triss," I said.

  "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have burst in on you like that. I was

  thinking of something else."

  He rose wearily and put a hand on my shoulder.

  "Not your fault, Jim, not your fault. You did warn me." He reached

  for his cigarettes.

  "I don't know how I'm going to face that girl again. I just chucked

  her out into the lane and told her to beat it home with all speed. She

  must think I'm stone balmy." He gave a hollow groan.

  I tried to be cheerful.

  "Oh, you'll get round her again. You'll have a laugh about it

  later."

  But he wasn't listening. His eyes, wide with horror, were staring past

  me.

  Slowly he raised a trembling finger and pointed towards the fireplace.

  His mouth worked for a few seconds before he spoke.

  "Christ, Jim, it's gone!" he gasped.

  For a moment I thought the shock had deranged him.

  "Gone...? What's gone ?"

  "The bloody dog! He was there when I dashed outside. Right there!"

  I looked down at the empty basket and a cold hand clutched at me.

  "Oh no!

  He must have got out through the open window. We're in trouble."

  We rushed into the garden and searched in vain. We came back for

  torches and searched once more, prowling around the yard and back lane,

  shouting the little dog's name with diminishing hope.

  After ten minutes we trailed back to the brightly lit room and stared

  at each other.

  Tristan was the first to voice our thoughts.

  "What do we tell Miss Wester man when she calls?"

  I shook my head. My mind fled from the thought of informing that lady

  that we had lost her dog.

  Just at that moment the front door bell pealed in the passage and

  Tristan almost leaped in the air.

  "Oh God!" he quavered.

  "That'll be her now. Go and see her, Jim. Tell her it was my fault

  anything you like but I daren't face her."

  I squared my shoulders, marched over the long stretch of tiles and

  opened the door It wasn't Miss Wester man, it was a well-built platinum

  blonde and she glared at me angrily.

  ~/7U

  "Where's Tristan?" she rasped in a voice which told me we had more

  than one~' tough female to deal with tonight.

  "Well, he's - er -."

  "Oh, I know he's in there!" As she brushed past me I noticed she had a

  smear' of soil on her cheek and her hair was sadly disarranged. I

  followed her into the room where she stalked up to my friend.

  "Look at my bloody stockings!" she burst out.

  "They're ruined!"

  Tristan peered nervously at the shapely legs.

  "I'm sorry, Lydia. I'll get you another pair. Honestly, love, I

  will."

  "You'd better, you bugger!" she replied.

  "And don't "love" me I've never been so insulted in my life. What did

  you think you were playing at?"

  "It was all a misunderstan ding. Let me explain . . ." Tristan

  advanced on her with a brave attempt at a winning smile, but she backed

  away.

  "Keep your distance," she said frigidly.

  "I've had enough of you for one night' She sw
ept out and Tristan leaned

  his head against the mantelpiece.

  "The end of a lovely friendship, Jim." Then he shook himself.

  "But we've got to find that dog. Come on."

  I set off in one direction and he went in the other. It was a moonless

  night of impenetrable darkness and we were loo king for a jet black

  dog. I think we both knew it was hopeless but we had to try.

  In a little town like Darrow by you are soon out on the country roads

  where there are no lights and as I stumbled around peering vainly over

  invisible fields the utter pointlessness of the activity became more

  and more obvious.

  Occasionally I came within Tristan's orbit and heard his despairing

  cries echoing over the empty landscape.

  "Haamiish! Haamiish! Haamiish . . .!"

  After half an hour we met at Skeldale House. Tristan faced me and as I

  shook my head he seemed to shrink within himself. His chest heaved as

  he fought for breath. Obviously he had been running while I had been

  walking and I suppose that was natural enough. We were both in an

  awkward situation but the final devastating blow would inevitably fall

  on him.

  "Well, we'd better get out on the road again," he gasped, and as he

  spoke the front door bell rang again.

  The colour drained rapidly from his face and he clutched my arm.

  "That must be Miss Wester man this time. God almighty, she's coming

  in!"

  Rapid footsteps sounded in the passage and the sit ting room door

  opened. But it wasn't Miss Wester man, it was Lydia again. She strode

  over to the sofa, reached underneath and extracted her handbag. She

  didn't say anything but merely shrivelled Tristan with a sidelong

  glance before leaving.

  "What a night!" he moaned, put ting a hand to his forehead.

  "I can't stand much more of this."

  Over the next hour we made innumerable sorties but we couldn't find

  Hamish and nobody else seemed to have seen him. I came in to find

  Tristan collapxd in an armchair. His mouth hung open and he showed

  every sign of advanced exhaust ion. I shook my head and he shook his

  then I heard the telephone.

  I lifted the receiver, listened for a minute and turned to the young

  man.

  "I've got to go out, Triss. Mr Drew's old pony has colic again."

  He reached out a hand from the depths of his chair.

  "You're not going to leave me, Jim?"

  "Sorry, I must. But I won't be long. It's only a mile away."

  "But what if Miss Wester man comes?"

  I shrugged

  "You'll just have to ar.olo~ise Hamish is bound to turn up."

  maybe in the morn in~.

  l "You make it sound easy . . ." He ran a hand inside his collar.

  "And and .... ~ ~ ~.

  `:~ thing how about Siegfried? What if he arrives and asks about the

  dog? What do I tell him?"

  "Oh, I shouldn't worry about that." I replied airily.

  "Just say you were too .

  busy on the sofa with the Drovers' barmaid to bother about such things.

  He'll understand."

  But my attempt at jocularity fell flat. The young man fixed me with a

  cold eye and ignited a quivering Woodbine.

  "I believe I've told you this before, Jim, but there's a nasty cruel

  streak in you."

  Mr Drew's pony had almost recovered when I got there but I gave it a

  mild sedative injection before turning for home. On the way back a

  thought struck me and I took a road round the edge of the town to the

  row of modern bungalows where Miss Wester man lived. I parked the car