Page 25 of Vets Might Fly


  "But I'll tell you this, I've had enough! So it straight, once and for

  all no more of this nonsense. Cut it out!"

  I felt my heart thudding as I went down to see the dogs for the next

  race.

  I examined the five animals the owners and kennel lads fixed me with a

  flinty stare as though I were some strange freak. My pulse began to

  slow down when I found there were no full stomachs this time and I

  glanced back in relief along the line. I was about to walk away when I

  noticed that number one looked: little unusual. I went back and bent

  over him, trying to decide what it was ate' him that had caught my

  attention. Then I realised what it was he fool sleepy. The head was

  hanging slightly and he had an air of apathy.

  I lifted his chin and looked into his eyes. The pupils were dilated

  and every.

  now and then there was a faint twitch of nystagmus. There was

  absolutely doubt about it he had received some kind of sedative. He

  had been doped. .

  The men in the paddock was very still as I stood upright. For a few

  moments I gazed through the wire netting at the brightly lit green

  oval, feeling the nil air cold on my cheeks. George was still at it on

  the loudspeakers.

  "Oh Mr Wu," he trilled.

  "What can I do?"

  Well I knew what I had to do, anyway. I tapped the dog on the back.

  "This one's out," I said.

  I didn't wait for the announcement and was half way up the steps to

  manager's office before I heard the request for my presence blared

  across I stadium.

  When I opened the door I half expected Mr Coker to rush at me and

  attack me and I was surprised when I found him sitting at his desk, his

  head burl in his hands. I stood there on the carpet for some time

  before he raised a ghastly countenance to me.

  "Is it true?" he whispered despairingly.

  "Have you done it again?"

  I nodded.

  "Afraid so."

  His lips trembled but he didn't say any thing, and after a brief.

  disbelieving scrutiny he sank his head in his hands again.

  I waited for a minute or two but when he stayed like that, quite

  motionless I realised that the audience was at an end and took my

  leave.

  I found no fault with the dogs for the next race and as I left the

  paddock unaccustomed peace settled around me. I couldn't understand it

  when I heard the loudspeaker again- "Will the vet please report . . ."

  But this time it was the paddock and I wondered if a dog had been

  injured. Anyway, it would b.

  relief to do a bit of real vet ting for a change. : But when I arrived

  there were no animals to be seen; only two men cradling a fat com

  panion in their arms. : "What's this?" I asked one of them.

  "Ambrose 'ere fell down the steps in the stand and skinned 'is knee."

  r I stared at him

  "But I'm a vet, not a doctor."

  "Ain't no doctor on the track," the man mumbled.

  "We reckoned you could patch 'im up."

  Ah well, it was a funny night.

  "Put him over on that beech," I said.

  I rolled up the trouser to reveal a rather revolting fat dimpled knee.

  Ambrose emitted a hollow groan as I touched a very minor abrasion on

  the patella.

  "It's nothing much," I said.

  "You've just knocked a bit of skin off."

  Ambrose looked at me tremblingly.

  "Aye, but it could go t'wrong way, couldn't it? I don't want no blood

  poison in'."

  "All right, I'll put something on it." I looked inside Stewie's

  medical bag.

  The selection was limited but I found some tincture of iodine and I

  poured a little on a pad of cotton wool and dabbed the wound.

  Ambrose gave a shrill yelp.

  "Bloody 'elf, that 'urts! What are you coin' to me?" His foot jerked

  up and rapped me sharply on the elbow.

  Even my human patients kicked me, it seemed. I smiled reassuringly.

  "Don't worry, it won't sting for long. I'll put a bandage on now."

  I bound up the knee, rolled down the trouser and patted the fat man's

  shoulder.

  "There you are good as new."

  He got off the bench, nodded, then grimacing painfully, prepared to

  leave.

  But an afterthought appeared to strike him and he pulled a handful of

  change from his pocket. He rummaged among it with a forefinger before

  selecting a coin which he pressed into my palm.

  "There yare," he said.

  I looked at the coin. It was a sixpence, the fee for my only piece of

  doctoring of my own species. I stared stupidly at it for a long time

  and when I finally looked up with the half-formed idea of throwing

  Ambrose's honorarium back at his head the man was limping into the

  crowd and was soon lost to sight.

  Back in the bar I was gazing apathetically through the glass at the

  dogs parading round the track when I felt a hand on my arm. I turned

  and recognised a man I had spotted earlier in the evening He was one of

  a group of three men and three women, the men dark, tight-suited,

  foreign-loo king, the women loud and over-dressed. There was something

  sinister about them and I remembered thinking they could have passed

  without question as members of the Mafia.

  The man put his face close to mine and I had a brief impression of

  black, darting eyes and a predatory smile.

  "Is number three fit?" he whispered.

  I couldn't understand the question. He seemed to know I was the vet

  and surely it was obvious that if I had passed the dog I considered him

  fit.

  "Yes," I replied.

  "Yes, he is."

  The man nodded vigorously and gave me a knowing glance from hooded

  eyes.

  He returned and held a short, intimate conversation with his friends,

  then they all turned and looked over at me approvingly.

  I was bewildered, then it struck me that they may have thought I was

  giving them an inside tip. To this day I am not really sure but I

  think that was it because when number three finished nowhere in the

  race their attitude changed dramatically and they flashed me some black

  glares which made them look more like the Mafia than ever.

  Anyway I had no more trouble down at the paddock for the rest of the

  evening No more dogs to take out, which was just as well, because I had

  made enough enemies for one night.

  After the last race I looked around the long bar. Most of the tables

  were occupied by people having a final drink, but I noticed an empty

  one and sank wearily into a chair. Stewie had asked me to stay for

  half an hour after the finish to make sure all the dogs got away safely

  and I would stick to my bargain even though what I wanted most in the

  world was to get away from here an, never come back.

  George was still in splendid voice on the loudspeakers,

  "I always get to be by half past nine," he warbled, and I felt strongly

  that he had a point there.

  Along the bar counter were assembled most of the people with whom I ha,

  clashed; Mr Coker and other officials and dog owners. There was a lot

  of nudging and whispering and I didn't have to be told the subje
ct of

  their discussion. The Mafia, too, were doing their bit with fierce

  side glances and could almost feel the waves of antagonism beating

  against me.

  My gloomy thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a bookie and his

  clerk The bookie dropped into a chair opposite me and tipped out a huge

  leather bag on to the table. I had never seen so much money in my

  life. I peered at the man over a mountain of fivers and pounds and

  ten-shilling notes while little stream and tributaries of coins ran

  down its flanks.

  The two of them began a methodical stacking and counting of the loot

  while I watched hypnotically. They had eroded the mountain to about

  half its height when the bookie caught my eye. Maybe he thought I

  looked envious or poverty-stricken or just miserable because he put his

  finger behind a stray half crown and flicked it expertly across the

  smooth surface in my direction.

  "Get yourself a drink, son, "he said.

  It was the second time I had been offered money during the last hour

  and I was almost as much taken aback as the first time. The bookie

  looked at me expressionlessly for a moment then he grinned. He had an

  attractively ugly, good-natured face that I liked instinctively and

  suddenly I felt grateful to him, not for the money but for the sight of

  a friendly face. It was the only one I had seen all evening

  I smiled back.

  "Thanks," I said. I lifted the half crown and went over to the bar.

  I awoke next morning with the knowledge that it was my last day at Hens

  field.

  Stewie was due back at lunch time.

  When I parted the now familiar curtains at the morning surgery I still

  felt a vague depression, a hangover from my unhappy night at the dog

  track.

  But when I looked into the waiting room my mood lightened

  immediately.

  There was only one animal among the odd assortment of chairs but that

  animal was Kim, massive, golden and beautiful, sitting between his

  owners, and when he saw me he sprang up with swishing tail and laughing

  mouth.

  There was none of the smell which had horrified me before but as I

  looked at the dog I could sniff something else the sweet, sweet scent

  of success.

  Because he was touching the ground with that leg; not putting any

  weight on it but definitely dotting it down as he capered around me.

  In an instant I was back in my world again and Mr Coker and the events

  of last night were but the dissolving mists of a bad dream.

  I could hardly wait to get started.

  "Get him on the table," I cried, then began to laugh as the Gillards

  automatically pushed their legs against the collapsible struts. They

  knew the drill now.

  I had to restrain myself from doing a dance of joy when I got the

  plaster off.

  There was a bit of discharge but when I cleaned it away I found

  healthy.

  granulation tissue everywhere. Pink new flesh binding the shattered

  joint together, smoothing over and hiding the original mutilation.

  "Is his leg safe now?" Marjorie Gillard asked softly.

  I looked at her and smiled.

  "Yes, it is. There's no doubt about it now."

  rubbed my hand under the big dog's chin and the tail beat ecstatically

  on the wood.

  "He'll probably have a stiff joint but that won't matter, will it?"

  ~ , I applied the last of Stewie's bandages then we hoisted Kim off the

  table.

  ~Well, that's it," I said.

  "Take him to your own vet in another fortnight.

  After that I don't think he'll need a bandage at all."

  The Gillards left on their journey back to the south and a couple of

  hours later Stewie and his family returned. The children were very

  brown, even the baby. still bawling resolutely, had a fine tan. The

  skin had peeled off Meg's nose but she looked wonderfully relaxed.

  Stewie, in open necked shirt and with a face like a boiled lobster,

  seemed to have put on weight.

  ~That holiday saved our lives, Jim," he said.

  "I can't thank you enough, and please tell Siegfried how grateful we

  are." He looked fondly at his turbulent brood flooding through the

  house, then as an afterthought he turned to me.

  "Is everything all right in the practice?"

  "Yes, Stewie, it is. I had my ups and downs of course."

  He laughed.

  "Don't we all."

  "We certainly do, but everything's fine now."

  And everything did seem fine as I drove away from the smoke. I watched

  the houses thin and fall away behind me till the whole world opened out

  clean and free and I saw the green line of the fells rising over Darrow

  by.

  I suppose we all tend to remember the good things but as it turned out

  I had no option. The following Christmas I had a letter from the

  Gillards with a packet of snapshots showing a big golden dog clearing a

  gate, leaping high for a ball, strutting proudly with a stick in his

  mouth. There was hardly any stiffness in the leg, they said; he was

  perfectly sound.

  So even now when I think of Hens field the thing I remember best is

  Kim.

  Chapter Twenty-four There was a lot of shouting in the RAF. The NCOs

  always seemed to be shouting at me or at somebody else and a lot of

  them had impressively powerful voices But for sheer volume I don't

  think any of them could beat Len Hamp son.

  I was on the way to Len's farm and on an impulse I pulled up the car

  and leaned for a moment on the wheel. It was a hot still day in late

  summer and this was one of the softer corners of the Dales, sheltered

  by the enclosing fells from the harsh winds which shrivelled all but

  the heather and the tough moorland grass.

  Here, great trees, oak, elm and sycamore in full rich leaf, stood in

  gentle majesty in the green dips and hollows, their branches quite

  still in the windless air.

  In all the grassy miles around me I could see no movement, nor could I

  hear any thing except the fleeting hum of a bee and the distant

  bleating of a sheep.

  Through the open window drifted the scents of summer; warm grass,

  clover and the sweetness of hidden Rowers. But in the car they had to

  compete with the all-pervading smell of cow. I had spent the last hour

  injecting fifty wild cattle and I sat there in soiled breeches and

  sweat-soaked shirt loo king out sleepily at the tranquil landscape.

  I opened the door and Sam jumped out and trotted into a nearby wood. I

  followed him into the cool shade, into the damp secret fragrance of

  pine needles ooo vers Ivlten'r~y and fallen leaves which came from the

  dark heart of the crowding boles. From somewhere in the branches high

  above I could hear that most soothing of sounds the cooing of a wood

  pigeon.

  Then, although the farm was two fields away, I heard Len Hamp son's

  voice He wasn't calling the cattle home or any thing like that. He was

  just conversing; with his family as he always did in a long tireless

  shout.

  I drove on to the farm and he opened the gate to let me into the

  yard.

  "
Good morning Mr Hamp son," I said.

  NOW THEN, MR HER RIOT," he bawled.

  "ITS A GRAND MORN IN .

  The blast of sound drove me back a step but his three sons smiled

  contented No doubt they were used to it.

  I stayed at a safe distance.

  "You want me to see a pig,"

  AYE, A GOOD BACON PIG. GONE RIGHT OFF. IT HASN"T ATE NOWT FOR TWO

  DAys We went into the pig pen and it was easy to pick out my patient.

  Most of the big white occupants careered around at the sight of a

  stranger, but one of them stood quietly in a corner.

  O ,...

  It isn't often a pig will stand unresisting as you take its temperature

  but this one never stirred as I slipped the thermometer into its

  rectum. There was only a slight fever but the animal had the look of

  doom about it; back slightly arch unwilling to move, eyes withdrawn and

  anxious.

  I looked up at Len Hamp son's red-faced bulk leaning over the wall of

  pen.