she had seen a lot of unwanted animals through her hands.
   I could hear the firm pencilling sounds as she took notes then, "Well
   now that sounds fine. He's the sort we can usually find a home for. When
   can you bring him along?'
   "Now,' I replied.
   The misty look in Helen's eyes as I marched out with the dog under my
   arm told me I was only just in time. And as I drove along the road I
   couldn't put away the thought that if things had been different - the
   future settled and a proper home - this little brown creature rolling on
   his back on the passenger seat with his wide mouth half open and the
   friendly eyes fixed questioningly on mine would never have got away from
   me. Only when the occasional car trashed by did he spring upright and
   look from the window with the old despairing expression. Would he ever
   forget?
   Sister Louisa Rose was a rather handsome woman in her late forties with
   the sort of healthy smiling face I had imagined at the other end of the
   phone. She reached out and took the terrier from me with the eager
   gesture of the animal lover.
   "Oh, he looks rather a dear, doesn't he?' she murmured.
   Behind her house, a modern bungalow in the open country near the
   hospital, she led me to a row of kennels with outside runs. Some of them
   housed single dogs but there was one large one with an assortment of
   mixed breeds playing happily together on the grass.
   "I think we'll put him in here,' she said. "It'll cheer him up quicker
   than anything and I'm sure he'll mix in well.' She opened a door in the
   wire netting surround and pushed the little animal in. The other dogs
   surrounded him and there was the usual ceremonious sniffing and
   leg-cocking.
   Sister Rose cupped her chin with her hand and looked down thoughtfully
   through the wire. "A name, we must have a name .. . let me see .. no ..
   . no .. . yes .. . Pip! We'll call him Pip!'
   She looked at me with raised eyebrows and I nodded vigorously. "Yes,
   definitely - just right. He looks like a Pip.'
   She smiled impishly. "I think so, too, but I've had a lot of practice,
   you know. I've become rather good at it.'
   "I'll bet you have. I suppose you've named all this lot?'
   "Of course.' She began to point them out one by one. "There's Bingo he
   was a badly neglected puppy. And Fergus - just lost. That bigger
   retriever is Griff - he was the survivor of a car crash where his owners
   were killed. And Tessa, badly injured when she was thrown from a
   fast-moving vehicle. Behind her over there is Sally Anne who really
   started me in the business of Animal Sheltering. She was found heavily
   pregnant with her paws bleeding so she must have run for many miles. I
   took her in and managed to find homes for all her puppies and she's
   still here. Placing those pups got me into contact with a lot of pet
   owners and before I knew what was happening everybody had the idea that
   I regularly took in stray animals. So I started and you can see the
   result. I shall have to expand these premises soon.'
   Pip didn't look so lonely now and after the preliminary courtesies he
   joined a group watching interestedly a fierce tug-of-war on a stick
   between a Collie and a crossed Labrador I laughed "You know I had no
   idea you had all these dogs. How long do you keep them?'
   "Till I can find a home for them. Some are only here a day, others stay
   for weeks or months. And there are one or two like Sally Anne who seem
   to be permanent boarders now.'
   "But how on earth do you feed them all? It must be an expensive
   business.'
   She nodded and smiled. "Oh I run little dog shows, coffee mornings,
   raffles, jumble sales, anything, but whatever my efforts I'm arraid the
   strays keep munching their way into the red. But I manage.'
   She managed, I guessed, by dipping deeply into her own pocket Around me
   the abandoned and rejected dogs barked and ran around happily. I had
   often thought when I encountered cruelty and neglect that there was a
   whole army of people who did these unspeakable things, a great unheeding
   horde who never spared a thought for the feelings of the helpless
   creatures who depended on them. It was frightening in a way, but thank
   heavens there was another army ranged on the other side, an army who
   fought for the animals with everything they had - with their energy,
   their time, their money.
   I looked at Sister Rose, at the steady eyes in the clear-skinned,
   scrubbed, nurse's face. I would have thought her profession of
   dedication to the human race would have filled her life utterly with no
   room for anything else, but it was not so.
   "Well, I'm very grateful to you, Sister,' I said. "I hope somebody will
   take Pip off your hands soon and if there's anything else I can do,
   please let me know.'
   She smiled. "Oh don't worry, I have a feeling this little chap won't be
   here very long.'
   Before leaving I leaned on the wire and took another look at the Border
   terrier. He seemed to be settling all right but every now and then he
   stopped and looked up at me with those questioning eyes which pulled so
   hard. I had the nasty feeling that I, too, was letting him down. His
   owners, then me, then Sister Rose, all in a couple of days . .. I hoped
   it would work out for him.
   Chapter Eighteen.
   I found it difficult to get that dog out of my mind and I lasted only a
   week before dropping in at the Animal Shelter. Sister Rose in an old
   mackintosh and Wellingtons was filling the feed bowls in one of the
   kennels.
   "You've come about Pip, I expect,' she said, putting down her bucket.
   "Well he went yesterday. I thought I'd have no trouble. A very nice
   couple called round They wanted to give a home to a stray and they
   picked him out straight away., She pushed the hair back from her
   forehead. "In fact I've had a good week. I've found excellent homes for
   Griff and Fergus too.'
   "Fine, fine. That's great.' I paused for a moment. "I was wondering .. .
   er .. . about Pip. Has he gone out of the district?'
   Oh, no, he's right here in Darrowby. The people are called Plenderleith
   he's a retired civil servant, quite high up I believe and he gave a
   generous donation to the centre though I didn't expect one. They've
   bought one of those nice little houses on the Houlton Road and there's a
   lovely garden for Pip to play. I gave them your name, by the way, so no
   doubt they'll be coming round to see you.'
   A wave of totally irrational pleasure swept over me.
   "Ah well, I'm glad to hear that. I'll be able to see how he's getting
   on.'
   I didn't have long to wait. It was less than a week later that I opened
   the waiting-room door and saw an elderly couple sitting there with Pip
   on the end of a very new lead. He adopted his usual gambit of rolling on
   to his back as soon as he saw me, but this time there was no helpless
   appeal in his expression but sheer joyous abandon with the comical
   little face split across by a wide panting grin. As I went through the
   ritual of chest rubbing I noticed he was wearing a new collar, too
 
					     					 			
   expensive looking, with a shining medallion bearing his name, address
   and telephone number. I lifted him and we all went through to the
   consulting room.
   "Well now, what's the trouble?' I asked.
   "No trouble, really,' the man replied. He was plump, and the pink face,
   grave eyes and immaculate dark suit accorded perfectly with my idea of a
   top civil servant.
   "I have recently acquired this small animal and should be grateful for
   your advice about him. By the way, my name is Plenderleith and may I
   introduce my wife.
   Mrs Plenderleith was plump too, but it was a giggly plumpness. She
   didn't look such a solid citizen as her husband.
   "Firstly,' he continued, "I should like you to give him a thorough
   check-up.'
   I had already done this, but went through it again, though Pip made
   things difficult by rolling over every time I got the stethoscope on his
   chest. And as I took his temperature I noticed that Mr Plenderleith ran
   his hand repeatedly over the brown hair of the back while his wife,
   looking over his shoulder, made encouraging noises and nodded
   reassuringly at the little dog.
   "Absolutely sound in wind and limb,' I pronounced as I finished.
   "Splendid,' the man said. "Er ... there was this little brown mark on
   his abdomen .. .' A touch of anxiety showed in his eyes.
   "Just a patch of pigment. Nothing, I assure you.'
   "Ah yes, good, good.' Mr Plenderleith cleared~his throat. "I have to
   confess, Mr Herriot, that my wife and I have never owned an animal
   before. Now I believe in doing things thoroughly, so in order to give
   him proper care and attention I have decided to study the matter. With
   this in view I have purchased some book~ on the subject.' He produced
   some shiny volumes from under his arm. (- The Dog, The Dog in Sickness
   and Health, and finally The Border Te " eplied. Normally I would have
   shied away from this imposing case I liked the way things were going. I
   had the growing vas on a good wicket here.
   
   believe it is desirable that he be inoculated against  he is a stray so
   there is no means of ascertaining ,~, ~ done.'
   ', '0 = C~act I was going to suggest that.' I produced a phial she s
   Still he~. ~O ~; ta syringe.
   and before I kne~ ~ ~ Nhan his owners as I gently injected the content5
   took in stray animals. , ~0, ~is face rigid with apprehension, kept
   patting expand these premises soo~. ~ ,ther end stroked the hind limbs
   and adjured After I had put the syringe away. Mr Plenderleith, visibly
   relieved, recommenced his investigations. "Let me see now.' He put on
   his spectacles, produced a gold pencil and snapped open a leather bound
   pad where I could see a long list of neatly written notes. "I have one
   or two queries here.'
   And he had indeed. He grilled me at length on feeding, housing,
   exercise, the relative values of wicker dog baskets and metal frame
   beds, the salient features of the common ailments, often referring to
   his shiny books. "I have a note here concerning page 143, line 9. It
   says .. .'
   I answered him patiently, leaning across the table. I had a waiting list
   of farm visits including several fairly urgent jobs but I listened with
   growing contentment. I had hoped for concerned and responsible persons
   to take this little animal over and these people were right out of the
   blueprint.
   When at length Mr Plenderleith had finished he put away his note-book
   and pencil and removed his spectacles with the firm precise movements
   which seemed part of him.
   "One of the reasons I desired a dog, Mr Herriot,' he went on, 'was to
   provide myself with exercise. Don't you think that is a good idea?'
   "It certainly is. One of the surest ways to keep fit is to own an active
   little animal like this. You simply have to take him out and just think
   of all the lovely grassy tracks over the hills around here. On Sunday
   afternoons when other people are lying asleep in their chairs under
   their newspapers you'll be out there striding the fells, rain, hail or
   snow.'
   Mr Plenderleith squared his shoulders and his jaw jutted as though he
   already saw himself battling through a blizzard.
   "And another thing,' his wife giggled, 'it'll take some of this off.'
   She thumped him irreverently on his bulging waistline.
   "Now now, my dear,' he admonished her gravely, but I had seen the
   makings of a sheepish grin which completely belied his stuffed shirt
   image. Mr Plenderleith, I felt, was all right.
   He put his books under his arm and reached out for the little dog.
   "Come, Pip, we mustn't delay Mr Herriot any longer.' But his wife was
   too quick for him. She gathered the terrier into her arms and as we
   walked along the passage she held the rough face against her own.
   Outside the surgery door I saw them installed in a spotless little
   family saloon and as they drove away Mr Plenderleith inclined his head
   gravely, his wife gave a gay wave, but Pip, his hind legs on her knee,
   feet on the dashboard, gazing eagerly through the windscreen was too
   busy and interested to look at me.
   As they rounded the corner I had the impression of a little cycle coming
   to a happy end. And of course the main cog in the sequence of events had
   been Sister Rose. This was just one of the helpless creatures she had
   salvaged. Her Animal Shelter would grow and expand and daily she would
   work harder without gain to herself. There were other people like her
   all over the country, other Shelters; and I felt I had been given a
   privileged glimpse of that selfless army which battled ceaselessly and
   untiringly on the side of the great throng of dependent animals.
   But right now I was concerned only with one thing. Pip had come home for
   good.
   Chapter Nineteen.
   "Double Bezique!' Helen said, laying out the two queens of spades and
   the jacks of diamonds And she looked across at me with a grin of
   triumph.
   She had the right kind of mouth, wide and generous, for such a grin and
   there was no doubt she had cause for jubilation.
   "Well that's torn it,' I grunted moodily. "I've been wondering where
   those cards were and now I know. But why didn't you declare them
   separately?'
   "It's better fun this way,' my wife replied with a callous laugh. "I
   wanted to see your face when I put them all out at once.'
   "O.K., O.K.,' I said. "Gloat all you want. I didn't realise I had
   married a sadist.'
   With a sinking heart I saw her move her little peg five hundred points
   up the board. It was a body blow and one from which I knew I would never
   recover. She had already won two games tonight - I was being thrashed.
   Still, there were compensations. There was a subdued excitement in just
   sitting there by our fireside on a black winter's night like this and
   listening to the wind buffeting the tall old house. I think it was the
   nearness of the wild that made the coals burn brighter and the room seem
   cosier, the awareness of the towering bare hills close by and the 
					     					 			 night
   wind shrieking over the high tops and over the vast white emptiness of
   the moors where it was cold, cold, and a man could quite easily lose
   himself and die.
   I dealt the next hand and looked with disgust at the rubbish I had given
   myself. I stole a glance at Helen. The faintest trace of smugness showed
   in her face as she viewed her hand. This wasn't going to be my night.
   We played a lot of Bezique on those dark evenings. There wasn't much to
   do in Darrowby but boredom was never a problem. in the beginning, in the
   summer days, we walked every day along the grassy tracks in the hills
   which make Yorkshire the finest walking country in England. We started
   to cultivate a piece of the long garden behind the house for our own use
   and I discovered an undreamed-of fascination in peas and broad beans. We
   picked mushrooms which may not sound very exciting but I have warm
   memories of the two of us wandering around sunlit fields with carrier
   bags and stopping now and then to look at the beautynearby. In those
   days before the old permanent pastures were ploughed up and artificial
   fertilisers were scarcely used mushrooms grew abundantly; and they were
   marvelous to eat. There was tennis, too, and at weekends Helen came with
   me on my rounds.
   But when the winter closed in Bezique was the thing. I studied my cards
   again and listened to the wind. It made a soft whistling noise down in
   the tiled passage far below. It was always as cold as the street in that
   passage and not much warmer in the graceful sitting room where the wind
   would tug at the heavy curtains over the french windows and perhaps send
   fugitive gusts up the stairs to Siegfried's and Tristan's rooms and then
   up to us on the top.
   And the wind would push its fingers up under the tiles into the two
   empty silent rooms which lay even higher than us. Rooms where the dust
   lay thick beneath their tiny windows and the wind would stir the rafters
   and pull at the little bell hanging from the great coiled spring. I
   could hear the faint tinkling which in the days of the old house's glory
   would summon a little maidservant from her high nest.
   But now the bell went unheeded in the empty darkness. There was nobody
   to answer it. The six servants who used to look after the Georgian
   elegance of Skeldale House were only a memory among the older folk of
   Darrowby and there was only Mrs Hall the housekeeper in her room at the
   end of the offshoot.
   "Royal marriage,' I said stiffly, putting out the king and queen of
   trumps and advancing my peg a paltry forty points.
   Helen nodded and I could see she was trying not to look condescending.
   She hadn't declared anything for some time now and I had a nasty feeling
   she was building up to something big. She bent over and poked the fire.
   There was too much coal on it because I had laid the fire this evening.
   We had a system that whoever was first home did that job. We had to
   arrange something like this because Helen was a working girl now. There
   wasn't much to do in our two rooms and our finances were at a low ebb so
   she had taken a job as secretary to the local millers. The mill was on
   the roadside down by the river and passers-by could see the big mill
   wheel turning in the water and hear the great stones grinding the corn
   in the room upstairs with the opening on to the road where the lorries
   came to collect the loaded bags.
   Helen's office was behind the mill shop, a floury, dusty, mealy place
   stacked tightly with sacks of cow cake, sheep nuts, hen pellets and
   drums of black treacle and when I slowed down outside I could often
   catch a glimpse of her redsweatered back as she bent over her books.
   Tonight I had been first home and Helen had come in as I was lighting my