Vet in Harness

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