back. It had been a popular ditty at the parties.
"My name is Sam my Hall and I've only got one ball . ..
"Oh, nonsense, they're pulling your leg," I said.
"An enlarged testicle can be all sorts of things. Can you remember
what the doctor called it?"
He screwed up his face.
"It was a funny name. Like vorry or varry something."
"Do you mean varicocele?"
"That's it!" He threw up an arm.
"That's the word!"
"Well, you can stop worrying," I said.
"It's quite a simple little operation.
Trifiing, in fact."
"You mean they won't cut me ball off?"
"Definitely not. Just remove a few surplus blood vessels, that's all.
No trouble."
He fell back on the pillow and gazed ecstatically at the ceiling.
"Thanks mate,"
he breathed.
"You've done me a world o' good. I'm get tin' done tomorrow and I've
been dread in' it."
He was like a different person all that day, laughing and joking with
everybody, and next morning when the nurse came to give him his premed
injection he turned to me with a last appeal in his eyes.
"You wouldn't kid me, mate, would you? They're not goin' to . . .?"
I held up a hand.
"I assure you, Sam my - er - Desmond, you've nothing to worry about. I
give you my word."
Again the beatific smile crept over his face and it stayed there until
the 'blood wagon', the operating room trolley pushed by a male orderly,
came to collect h~m.
The blood wagon was very busy each morning and it was customary to
raise a cheer as each man was wheeled out. Most of the victims
responded with a sleepy wave before the swing doors closed behind them,
but when I saw Desmond grinning cheerfully and giving the thumbs-up
sign I felt I had really done something.
Next morning it was my turn. I had my injection at around eight
o'clock and by the time the trolley appeared I was pleasantly woozy.
They removed my pyjamas and arrayed me in a sort of nightgown with
laces at the neck and pulled thick woollen socks over my feet. As the
orderly wheeled me away the o2 inmates of the ward broke into a ragged
chorus of encouragement and I managed the risual flourish of an arm as
I left.
It was a cheerless journey along white-tiled corridors until the
trolley pushed its way into the anaesthetics room. As I entered, the
doors at the far end parted as a doctor came towards me bearing a
loaded syringe. I had a chilling slimpse of the operating theatre
beyond, with the lights beating on the long table and the masked
surgeons waiting.
The doctor pushed up my sleeve and swabbed my forearm with surgical
spirit.
I decided I had seen enough and closed my eyes, but an exclamation from
above made me open them.
"Good God, it's Jim Herriot!"
I looked up at the man with the syringe. It was Teddy McQueen. He had
been in my class at school and I hadn't seen him since the day I
left.
My throat was dry after the injection but I felt I had to say
something.
"Hello, Teddy," I croaked.
His eyes were wide.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"What the hell do you think?" I rasped crossly.
"I'm going in there for an operation."
"Oh, I know that I'm the anaesthetist here but I remember you tell ing
me at school that you were going to be a vet."
"That's right. I am a vet."
"You are?" His face was a picture of amazement.
"But what the devil is a vet doing in the RAF?"
It was a good question.
"No thing very much, Teddy," I replied.
He began to laugh. Obviously he found the whole situation
intriguing.
"Well, Jim, I can't get over this!" He leaned over me and giggled
uncontrollably "Imagine our meet ing here after all these years. I
think it's an absolute hoot!"
His whole body began to shake and he had to dab away the tears from his
eyes.
Lying there on the blood wagon in my nightie and woolly socks I didn't
find it all that funny, and my numbed brain was searching for a
withering riposte when a voice barked from the theatre.
"What's keeping you, McQueen? We can't wait all morning!"
Teddy stopped laughing.
"Sorry, Jim old chum," he said.
"But your presence is requested within." He pushed the needle into my
vein and my last memory as I drifted away was of his lingering amused,
mile.
I spent three weeks at Creden Hill and towards the end of that time
those of us who were almost fully recovered were allowed out to visit
the nearby town of Hereford. This was embarrassing because we were all
clad in the regulation suit of hospital blue with white shirt and red
tie and it was obvious from thc respectful glances we received that
people thought we had been wounded in action.
When a veteran of the First World War came up to me and asked,
"Where did you get your packet, mate?" I stopped going altogether.
I left the RAF hospital with a feeling of gratitude particularly
towards the hard-working, cheerful nurses. They gave us many a tongue
lashing for chattering after lights out, for smoking under the
blankets, for messing up our beds, but all the time I marvelled at
their dedication. ~ I used to lie there and wonder what it was in a
girl's character that made hC' go in for the arduous life of nursing. A
concern for people's welfare? A natur caring instinct? Whatever it
was, I was sure a person was born with it. This trait is part of the
personalities of some animals and it was exemplifi in Eric Abbot's
sheepdog, Judy.
I first met Judy when I was treating Eric's bullock for wooden
tongue.
T1' .
bullock was only a young one and the farmer admitted ruefully that he
had neglected it because it was almost a walking skeleton.
"Damn!" Eric grunted.
"He's been runnin' out with that bunch in the far fields and I must
have missed 'im. I never knew he'd got to this state."
When actinobacillosis affects the tongue it should be treated right at
the start, when the first symptons of salivation and swelling beneath
the jaw appear.
Otherwise the tongue becomes harder and harder till finally it sticks
out of the front of the mouth, as unyielding as the wood which gives
the disease its ancient name.
This skinny little creature had reached that state, so that he not only
looked pathetic but also slightly comic as though he were ma king a
derisive gesture at me. But with a tongue like that he just couldn't
eat and was literally starving to death. He lay quietly as though he
didn't care.
"There's one thing, Eric," l said.
"Giving him an intravenous injection won't be any problem. He hasn't
the strength to resist."
The great new treatment at that time was sodium iodide into the vein
modern and spectacular. Before that the farmers used to paint the
tongue with tincture of iodine, a tedious proce
dure which sometimes
worked and sometimes didn't. The sodium iodide was a magical
improvement and showed results within a few days.
I inserted the needle into the jugular and tipped up the bottle of
clear fluid.
Two drachms of the iodide I used to use, in eight ounces of distilled
water and it didn't take long to flow in. In fact the bottle was
nearly empty before I noticed Judy.
I had been aware of a big dog sit ting near me all the time, but as I
neared the end of the injection a black nose moved ever closer till it
was almost touching the needle. Then the nose moved along the rubber
tube up to the bottle and back again, sniffing with the utmost
concentration. When I removed the needle the nose began a careful
inspection of the injection site. Then a tongue appeared and began to
lick the bullock's neck methodically.
I squatted back on my heels and watched. This was something more than
mere curiosity; every thing in the dog's attitude suggested intense
interest and concern.
"You know, Eric," I said.
"I have the impression that this dog isn't just watching me. She's
supervising the whole job."
The farmer laughed.
"You're right there. She's a funny old bitch is Judy sort of a nurse.
If there's anything amiss she's on duty. You can't keep her away."
Judy looked up quickly at the sound of her name. She was a handsome
animal; not the usual colour, but a variegated brindle with waving
lines of brown and grey mingling with the normal black and white of the
farm collie. Maybe there was a cross somewhere but the result was very
attractive and the effect was heightened by her bright-eyed,
laughing-mouthed friendliness.
I reached out and tickled the backs of her ears and she wagged mightily
not just her tail but her entire rear end.
"I suppose she's just good-natured."
"Oh aye, she is," the farmer said.
"But it's not only that. It sounds daft but
I
think Judy feels a sense of responsibility to all the stock on
"'farm."
I nodded.
"I believe you. Anyway, let's get this beast on to his chest."
We got down in the straw and with our hands under the back bone, rolled
the bullock till he was resting on his sternum. We balanced him there
with straw bales on either side then covered him with a horse rug.
In that position he didn't look as moribund as before, but the
emaciated head with the useless jutting tongue lolled feebly on his
shoulders and the saliva drooled uncontrolled on to the straw. I
wondered if I'd ever see him alive again.
/~* V't tn n .~^In Judy however didn't appear to share my pessimism.
After a thorough sniffing l examination of rug and bales she moved to
the front, applied an encouraging tongue to the shaggy forehead then
stationed herself comfortably facing the bullock, very like a night
nurse keeping an eye on her patient.
"Will she stay there?" I closed the half door and took a last look
inside.
"Aye, nothing'll shift her till he's dead or better," Eric replied.
"She's in her element now."
"Well, you never know, she may give him an interest in life, just sit
ting there.
He certainly needs some help. You must keep him alive with milk or
gruel till ;~ .
the injection starts to work. If he'll drink it it'll do him most good
but otherwise you'll have to bottle it into him. But be careful you
can choke a beast the t way."
A case like this had more than the usual share of the old fascination
because I was using a therapeutic agent which really worked something
that didntt : happen too often at that time. So I was eager to get
back to see if I had been able to pull that bullock from the brink of
death. But I knew I had to give the drug a chance and kept away for
five days.
When I walked across the yard to the box I knew there would be no
further doubts. He would either be dead or on the road to recovery.
The sound of my steps on the cobbles hadn't gone unnoticed. Judy's
head, ears cocked, appeared above the half door. A little well of
triumph brimmed in me. If the nurse was still on duty then the patient
must be alive. And I felt even more cert ain when the big dog
disappeared for a second then came soaring effortlessly over the door
and capered up to me, working her hind end into convolutions of
delight. She seemed to be doing her best to tell me all was well.
Inside the box the bullock was still Iying down but he turned to look
at me and I noticed a strand of hay hanging from his mouth. The tongue
itself had disappeared behind the lips.
"Well, we're winnin', aren't we?" Eric Abbot came in from the yard.
"Without a doubt," I said.
"The tongue's much softer and I see he's been trying to eat hay."
"Aye, can't quite manage it yet, but he's sup pin' the milk and gruel
like a good 'un. He's been up a time or two but he's very wobbly on
his pins."
I produced another bottle of sodium iodide a~nd repeated the injection
with Judy's nose again almost touching the needle as she sniffed
avidly. Her eyes were focused on the injection site with fierce
concentration and so intent was she on extracting the full savour that
she occasionally blew out her nostrils with a sharp blast before
recommencing her inspection.
When I had finished she took up her position at the head and as I
prepared to leave I noticed a voluptuous swaying of her hips which were
embedded in the straw. I was a little puzzled until I realised she was
wagging in the sit ting position.
"Well, Judy's happy at the way things are going," I said.
The farmer nodded.
"Yes, she is, She likes to be in charge. Do you know, she gives every
new-born calf a good lick over as soon as it comes into t'world and
it's the same whenever one of our cats 'as kittens."
"Bit of a midwife, too, eh?"
"You could say that. And another funny thing about 'er - she lives
with thc ~:< livestock in the buildings. She's got a nice warm kennel
but she never bothe - : with it sleeps with the beasts in the straw
every night." ~i I revisited the bullock a week later and this time he
galloped round the b~ like a racehorse when I approached him. When I
finally trapped him in a co~ ~_ Vet in a Spin ~ ' and caught his nose I
was breathless but happy. I slipped my fingers into his mouth; the
tongue was pliable and almost normal.
"One more shot, Eric," I said.
"Wooden tongue is the very devil for recurring if you don't get it
cleared up thoroughly." I began to unwind the rubber tube.
"By the way, I don't see Judy around."
"Oh, I reckon she feels he's cured now, and anyway, she has sum mat
else on her plate this morn in'. Can you see her over there?"
I looked through the doorway. Judy was stalking importantly across the
yard.
She had something in her mouth a yellow, fluffy object.
I craned out further.
"What is she carrying?"<
br />
"It's a chicken."
"A chicken?"
"Aye, there's a brood of them runnin' around just now. They're only a
month old and ttawd bitch seems to think they'd be better off in the
stable. She's made a bed for them in there and she keeps try in' to
curl herself around them. But the little things won't 'ave it."
I watched Judy disappear into the stable. Very soon she came out,
trotted after a group of tiny chicks which were pecking happily among
the cobbles and gently scooped one up. Busily she made her way back to
the stable but as she entered the previous chick reappeared in the
doorway and pottered over to rejoin his friends.
She was having a frustrating time but I knew she would keep at it
because that was the way she was.
Judy the nurse dog was still on duty.
Chapter Seventeen My experience in the RAF hospital made me think. As
a veterinary surgeon I had become used to being on the other end of the
knife and I preferred it that way.
As I remembered, I was quite happy that morning a couple of years ago
as I poised my knife over a swollen ear. Tristan, one elbow leaning
wearily on the table, was holding an anaesthetic mask over the nose of
the sleeping dog when Siegfried came into the room.
He glanced briefly at the patient.
"Ah yes, that haematoma you were tell ing me about, James." Then he
looked across the table at his brother.
"Good God you're a lovely sight this morning! When did you get in last
night?"
Tristan raised a pallid countenance. His eyes were bloodshot slits
between puffy lids.
"Oh, I don't quite know. Fairly late, I should think."
"Fairly late! I got back from a farrowing at four o'clock and you
hadn't arrived then Where the hell were you, anyway?"
"I was at the Licensed Victuallers' Ball. Very good do, actually."
"I bet it was!" Siegfried snorted.
"You don't miss a thing, do you? Darts Team Dinner, Bell ringers'
Outing, Pigeon Club Dance and now it's the Licensed Victuallers' Ball.
If there's a good booze-up going on anywhere you'll find it."
When under fire Tristan al ways retained his dignity and he drew it
around him now like a threadbare cloak.
ldc' Vet In a opln "As a matter of fact," he said, 'many of the
Licensed Victuallers are my friends."
His brother flushed.
"I believe you. I should think you're the best bloody customer they've
ever had!"
Tristan made no reply but began to make a careful check of the flow of
oxygen into the ether bottle.
"And another thing," Siegfried continued.
"I keep seeing you slinking around with about a dozen different women.
And you're supposed to be studying for an exam."
"That's an exaggeration." The young man gave him a pained look.
"I admit I enjoy a little female company now and then just like
yourself." .~ Tristan believed in attack as the best form of defence,
and it was a tell ing blow because there was a constant stream of
attractive girls laying siege to ~ Siegfried at Skeldale House. `,.
But the elder brother was only temporarily halted.
"Never mind me!" he ~$~` shouted.
"I've passed all my exams. I'm talking about you! Didn't I see you
with B that new barmaid from the Drovers' the other night? You dodged
rapidly into a shop doorway but I'm bloody sure it was you." ` Tristan
cleared his throat.
"It quite possibly was. I have recently become friendly with Lydia
she's a very nice girl."
"I'm not saying she isn't. What I am saying is that I want to see you