shirts, quite cert ain that this was when they rushed me and beat me
up, but my fears were groundless.
All they wanted was a speedier delivery and about a dozen of them swept
past me behind the counter and began to follow my example.
Whereas there had been only a single missile winging over the heads the
sky was now dark with the flying objects. Mid-air collisions were
frequent. Collars sprayed, handkerchiefs fluttered, underpants
parachuted gracefully, but after an unbearably long period of chaos the
last airman had picked up his scattered laundry, given me a disgusted
glance and departed.
I was left alone in the hut with the sad knowledge that my prestige was
very low and the equally sad conviction that the RAF still did not know
what to do with me.
Chapter Twenty Occasionally my period in limbo was relieved when I was
allowed out of camp into the city of Manchester. And I suppose it was
the fact that I was a newfangled parent that made me look at the
various prams in the streets. Mostly the prams were pushed by women
but now and then I saw a man doing the job.
I suppose it isn't unusual to see a man pushing a pram in a town, but
on a lonely moorland road the sight merits a second glance. Especially
when the pram contains a large dog.
That was what I saw in the hills above Darrow by one morning and I
slowed down as I drove past. I had noticed the st range combinatidn
before on several occasions over the last few weeks and it was clear
that man and dog had recently moved into the district.
As the car drew abreast of him the man turned, smiled and raised his
hand.
It was a smile of rare sweetness in a very brown face. A
forty-year-old face, I thought, above a brown neck which bore neither
collar nor tie, and a faded striped shirt Iying open over a bare chest
despite the coldness of the day.
I couldn't help wondering who or what he was. The outfit of scuffed
suede golf jacket, corduroy trousers and sturdy boots didn't give much
clue. Some people might have put him down as an ordinary tramp, but
there was a businesslike energetic look about him which didn't fit the
term.
I wound the window down and the thin wind of a Yorkshire March bit at
my cheeks.
"Nippy this morning," I said.
The man seemed surprised.
"Aye," he replied after a moment.
"Aye, reckon it is.
I looked at the pram, ancient and rusty, and at the big animal sit ting
upright inside it. He was a lurcher, a cross-bred greyhound, and he
gazed back at me with unruffled dignity.
"Nice dog," I said.
"Aye, that's Jake." The man smiled again, showing good regular
teeth.
"He's a grand 'un."
I waved and drove on. In the mirror I could see the compact figure
stepping out briskly, head up, shoulders squared, and, rising like a
statue from the middle of the pram, the huge brindled form of Jake.
I didn't have to wait long to meet the unlikely pair again. I was
examining a cart horse's teeth in a farmyard when on the hillside
beyond the stable I saw a figure kneeling by a dry stone wall. And by
his side, a pram and a big dog sit ting patiently on the grass.
"Hey, just a minute." I pointed at the hill.
"Who is that?"
The farmer laughed.
"That's Roddy Travers. D'you ken 'im?"
"No, no I don't. I had a word with him on the road the other day,
that's all."
"Aye, on the road." He nodded knowingly.
"That's where you'd see Roddy, right enough."
"But what is he? Where does he come from?"
"He comes from somewhere in Yorkshire, but ah don't rightly know where
and ah don't think anybody else does. But I'll tell you this he can
turn 'is hand to anything."
"Yes," I said, watching the man expertly laying the flat slabs of stone
as he repaired a gap in the wall.
"There's not many can do what he's doing now."
"That's true. Wall in' is a skilled job and it's dying out, but
Roddy's a dab hand at it. But he can do owt - hedgin', dit chin', loo
kin' after stock, it's all the same to him."
I lifted the tooth rasp and began to rub a few sharp corners off the
horse's molars.
"And how long will he stay here?" ~ "Oh, when he's finished that wall
he'll be off. Ah could do with 'im stop pin' around for a bit but he
never stays in one place for long."
"But hasn't he got a home anywhere?"
"Nay, nay." The farmer laughed again.
"Roddy's got nowt. All 'e has in thc world is in that there pram."
Over the next weeks as the harsh spring began to soften and the
sunshine brought a bright speckle of primroses on to the grassy banks I
saw Roddy quite often, sometimes on the road, occasionally wielding a
spade busily on the ditch.
around the fields. Jake was al ways there, either loping by his side
or watching him at work. But we didn't actually meet again till I was
inoculating Mr Paw son's sheep for pulpy kidney.
~' re were three hundred to do and they drove them in batches into a
smaD ~ere Roddy caught and held them for me. And I could see he was as
at this, too. The wild hill sheep whipped past him like bullets but hc
Neir fleece effortlessly, sometimes in mid-air, and held the fore leg
up hat bare clean area of skin behind the elbow that nature seemed.
put ~for the veterinary surgeon's needle.
I could. je, on the windy slopes the big lurcher sat upright in
typical p~
OV~
Iloo king with mild interest at the farm dogs prowling intently around
the pens, but not interfering in any way.
"You've got him well trained," I said.
Roddy smiled.
"Yes, ye'll never find Jake da shin' about anno yin' people. He knows
'e has to sit there till I'm finished and there he'll sit."
"And quite happy to do so, by the look of him." I glanced again at the
dog, a picture of contentment.
"He must live a wonderful life, travelling everywhere with you."
"You're right there," Mr Paw son broke in as he ushered another bunch
of sheep into the pen.
"He hasn't a care in "'world, just like his master."
Roddy didn't say anything, but as the sheep ran in he straightened up
and took a long steady breath. He had been working hard and a little
trickle of sweat ran down the side of his forehead but as he gazed over
the wide sweep of moor and fell I could read utter serenity in his
face. After a few moments he spoke.
"I reckon that's true. We haven't much to worry us, Jake and me."
Mr Paw son grinned mischievously.
"By yaw, Roddy, you never spoke a truer word. No wife, no kids, no
life insurance, no overdraft at t'bank you must have a right peaceful
existence."
"Ah suppose so," Roddy said.
"But then ah've no money either."
The farmer gave him a quizzical look.
"Aye, how about that, then? Wouldn't you feel a bit more secure, like,
if you had a bit o' brass put by?"
"Nay, nay. Ye can't take it w
ith you and any road, as long as a man
can pay '~s way, he s got enough."
There was nothing original about the words, but they have stayed with
me all my life because they came from his lips and were spoken with
such profound assurance.
When I finished the inoculations and the ewes were turned out to trot
back happily over the open fields I turned to Roddy.
"Well, thanks very much. It makes my job a lot quicker when I have a
good catcher like you." I pulled out a packet of Gold Flake.
"Will you have a cigarette?"
"No, thank ye, Mr Herriot. I don't smoke."
"You don't?"
"No don't drink either." He gave me his gentle smile and again I had
the impression of physical and mental purity. No drinking, no smoking,
a life of constant movement in the open air without material
possessions or ambitions - it all showed in the unclouded eyes, the
fresh skin and the hard muscular frame. He wasn't very big but he
looked indestructible.
"C'mon, Jake, it's dinner time," he said and the big lurcher bounded
around him in delight. I went over and spoke to the dog and he
responded with tremendous body-swaying wags, his handsome face loo king
up at me, full of friendliness.
I stroked the long pointed head and tickled the ears.
"He's a beauty, Roddy - a grand 'un, as you said."
I walked to the house to wash my hands and before I went inside I
glanced back at the two of them. They were sit ting in the shelter of
a wall and Roddy was laying out a thermos flask and a parcel of food
while Jake watched eagerly.
The hard bright sunshine beat on them as the wind whistled over the top
of the wall. They looked supremely comfortable and at peace.
"He's independent, you see," the farmer's wife said as I stood at the
kitchen sink
"He's welcome to come in for a bit o' dinner but he'd rather stay
outside with his dog."
I nodded.
"Where does he sleep when he's going round the farms like this?"
"Oh, anywhere," she replied.
"In hay barns or granaries or sometimes out in 8U4 Vet In a :Yptn ~ .`
IS in the open, but when he~s with us he sleeps upstairs in one of our
rooms. Ah know . ~ j this afternoon. He was right as rain, lark in'
about on the grass, then he went for a fact any of the farmers would be
willinto have him in the house because ~into a sort o'fit."
he all us keeps himself spotless clean." E ~"How do you mean?"
"I see." I pulled the towel from behind the door.
"He's quite a character, isn't #, "Just kind of seized up and toppled
over on 'is side. He lay there for a bit he?" ~ ~gaspin' and slav
erin'. Ahtll tell ye, I thought he was a goner." His eyes widened She
smiled ruminatively.
"Aye, he certainly is. Just him and his dog!" She ~and a corner of
his mouth twitched at the memory.
lifted a fragrant dishful of hot roast ham from the oven and set it on
the table. ~ '~ "How long did that last?"
"But I'll tell you this. The feller's all right. Everybody likes
Roddy Travers _ ;~: "Nob but a few seconds. Then he got up and you'd
say there was nowt wrong he's a very nice man." : with 'im."
"But he did it again?"
Roddy stayed around the Darrow by district throughout the summer and I
grew "Aye, time and time again. Drove me near daft. But in between 'e
was normal.
used to the sight of him on the farms or pushing his pram along the
roads Normal, Mr Herriot!"
When it was raining he wore a tattered over-long gaberdine coat, but at
other It sounded ominously like the onset of epilepsy.
"How old is he?" I asked.
times it was al ways the golf jacket and corduroys. I don't know where
he had "Five gone last February."
accumulated his wardrobe. It was a safe bet he had never been on a
golf course ~ ~Ah well, it was a bit old for that. I reached for a
stethoscope and auscultated in his life and it was just another of the
little mysteries about him. ;: the heart. I listened intently but
heard only the racing beat of a frightened I saw him early one morning
on a hill path in early October. It had been a ~animal. There was no
abnormality. My thermometer showed no rise in night of iron frost and
the tussocky pastures beyond the walls were held in a .~
~temperature.
pitiless white grip with every blade of grass stiffly ensheathed in
rime.
"Let's have him on the table, Roddy. You take the back end."
I was muffled to the eyes and had been beating my gloved fingers
against my The big animal was limp in our arms as we hoisted him on to
the smooth knees to thaw them out, but when I pulled up and wound down
the window the surface, but after Iying there for a moment he loc~ked
timidly around him then first thing I saw was the bare chest under the
collarless unbuttoned shirt.
sat up with a slow and careful movement. As we watched he reached out
and "Morn in', Mr Herriot, "he said.
"Ahtm glad I've seen ye." He paused and gave licked his master's face
while his tail flickered between his legs me his tranquil smile.
"There's a job along t'road for a couple of weeks, then "Look at that!"
the man exclaimed.
"He's all right again. You'd think he didn't I'm movie' on." ~ ail a
thing."
"I see." I knew enough about him now not to ask where he was going.
Instead And indeed Jake was recovering his confidence rapidly. He
peered tentatively I looked down at Jake who was sniffling the
herbage.
"I see he's walking this at the floor a few times then suddenly jumped
down, trotted to his master and morning"
Roddy laughed.
"Yes, sometimes 'e likes to walk, sometimes 'e likes to ride.
pull hllSkPadWStatGhalndt hlstchedst the t il i f i I
"W 11, h ' He pleases 'imself. relief, anyway. I didn't like the look
of him just then, but whatever's been Right, Roddy,; said. No doubt we
11 meet again. All the best to you. ~ troubling him seems to have
righted itself. I'll . . ."
He waved and set off jauntily over the icebound road and I felt that a
little My happy flow was cut oflf. I stared at the lurcher. His fore
legs were on the vein of richness had gone from my life.
, floor agam and hls mouth was gaping as he fought for breath.
Frantically he But I was wrong. That same evening about eight 0 clock
the front door bell gasped and retched then he blundered across the
floor, collided with the pram rang. I answered it and found Roddy on
the front door steps. Behind him, JUst wheels and fell on his side.
visible in the frosty darkness, stood the ubiquitous pram. "What the
hell .
. .! Quick, get him up again!" I grabbed the animal round the "I want
you to look at me dog, Mr Herriot, he said. middle and we lifted him
back on to the table.
"Why, what's the trouble?"
"Ah don't rightly know. He's havin' sort of . . . fain tin' fits." I
watched in disbelief as the huge form lay there. There was no fight
for "Fai
nting fits' That doesn't sound like Jake. Where is he,
anyway?" breath now - he wasn t breathing at all, he was unconscious.
I pushed my fingers He pointed behind him
"In t'pram, under "'cover." inside his thigh and felt the pulse. It
was still going, rapid and feeble, but yet "All right." I threw the
door wide.
"Bring him in." he didn t breathe.
Roddy adroitly manhandled the rusty old vehicle up the steps and pushed
it, He could die any moment and I stood there helpless, all my
scientific training squeaking and rattling, along the passage to the
consulting room. There, under useless. Finally my frustration burst
from me and I struck the dog on the ribs the bright lights he snapped
back the fasteners and threw off the cover to reveal with the flat of
my hand.
Jake stretched beneath. "Jake!" I yelled.
"Jake, what's the matter with you?"
His head was pillowed on the familiar gaberdine coat and around him lay
05 As though in reply, the lurcher immediately started to take great
wheezing master's worldly goods; a string-tied bundle of spare shirt
and socks, a packet breaths, his eyelids twitched back to consciousness
and he began to look about of tea, a thermos, knife and spoon and an
ex-army haversack. ~ . him. But he was still mortally afraid and he
lay prone as I gently stroked his The big dog looked up at me with
terrified eyes and as I patted him I could head.
feel his whole frame quivering. ~' :-There was a long silence while
the animal's terror slowly subsided, then he "Let him lie there a
minute, Roddy," I said.
"And tell me exactly what yo~l ~sat up on the table and regarded us
placidly.
seen." ~"There you are," Roddy said softly.
"Same thing again. Ah can't reckon it up ;~He rubbed his palms
together and his fingers trembled.
"Well it only ~L and ah thought ah knew sum mat about dogs."
L. ~
I didn't say anything. I couldn't reckon it up either, and I was
supposed to be a veterinary surgeon. ' I spoke at last.
"Roddy, that wasn't a fit. He was choking. Something was ;
interfering with his air flow." I took my hand torch from my breast
pocket.
"I'm going to have a look at his throat."
I pushed Jake's jaws apart, depressed his tongue with a forefinger and
shone the light into the depths. He was the kind of good-natured dog
who offered no resistance as I prodded around, but despite my floodlit
view of the pharynx I could find nothing wrong. I had been hoping
desperately to come across a bit of bone stuck there somewhere but I
ranged feverishly over pink tongue, healthy tonsils and gleaming molars
without success. Everything looked perfect.
I was tilting his head a little further when I felt him stiffen and
heard Roddy's cry.
"He's goin' again!"
And he was, too. I stared in horror as the brindled body slid away
from me and lay prostrate once more on the table. And again the mouth
strained wide and froth bubbled round the lips. As before, the
breathing had stopped and the rib cage was motionless. As the seconds
ticked away I beat on the chest with my hand but it didn't work this
time. I pulled the lower eyelid down from the staring orb the
conjunctive was blue, Jake hadn't long to live. The tragedy of the
thing bore down on me. This wasn't just a dog, he was this man's
family and I was watching him die.
It was at that moment that I heard the faint sound. It was a strangled
cough which barely stirred the dog's lips.
"Damn it!" I shouted.
"He is choking. There must be something down there."
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