Read Vets Might Fly Page 19


  that the Slightest touch or sound throws them into violent

  contractions."

  "But why does a dog stretch out like that?"

  "Because the extensor muscles are stronger than the flexors, causing

  the back to be arched and the legs extended."

  He nodded.

  "I see, but . .. I believe it is usually fatal. What is it that .

  kills them?"

  "They die of asphyxia due to paralysis of the respiratory centre or

  contract) of the diaphragm."

  Maybe he wanted to ask more, but it was painful for him and he stay

  silent. .

  "There's one thing I'd like you to know, Mr Bartle," I said.

  "It is almost certainly not a painful condition."

  "Thank you." He bent and briefly stroked the sleeping dog.

  "So nothing more can be done?"

  I shook my head.

  "The barbiturate keeps the spasms in abeyance and we'll go on hoping he

  hasn't absorbed too much strychnine. I'll call back later, or y can

  ring me if he gets worse. I can be here in a few minutes."

  Driving away, I pondered on the irony that made Darrow by a paradise

  for dog killers as well as dog lovers. There were grassy tracks

  everywhere; wandering by the river's edge, climbing the fell-sides and

  coiling green and tempting among the heather on the high tops. I often

  felt sympathy for pet owners in the big' cities, trying to find places

  to walk their dogs. Here in Darrow by we could take our pick. But so

  could the poisoner. He could drop his deadly bait unobserved in a

  hundred different places.

  I was finishing the afternoon surgery when the 'phone rang. It was Mr

  Bartle.

  "Has he started the spasms again?" I asked.

  There was a pause.

  "No, I'm afraid Jasper is dead. He never regained consciousness."

  "Oh . . . I'm very sorry." I felt a dull despair. That was the

  seventh death in a week.

  "Well, thank you for your treatment, Mr Herriot. I'm sure nothing

  could have saved him."

  I hung up the 'phone wearily. He was right. Nothing or nobody could

  have done any good in this case, but it didn't help. If you finish up

  with a dead animal there is always the feeling of defeat.

  Next day I was walking on to a farm when the farmer's wife called to

  me.

  "I have a message for you to ring back to the surgery."

  I heard Helen's voice at the other end.

  "Jack Brim ham has just come in with his dog. I think it's another

  strychnine case." : I excused myself and drove back to Darrow by at

  top speed. Jack Brim ham was a builder. He ran a one-man business and

  whatever job he was on repairing roofs or walls or chimneys his little

  white rough-haired terrier went with him, and you could usually see the

  little animal nosing among the piles of bricks, exploring in the

  surrounding fields.

  Jack was a friend, too. I often had a beer with him at the Drovers'

  Arms and I recognised his van outside the surgery. I trotted along the

  passage and found him leaning over the table in the consulting room.

  His dog was stretched there in that attitude which I dreaded.

  "He's gone, Jim," he muttered.

  I looked at the shaggy little body. There was no movement, the eyes

  stared silently. The legs, even in death, strained across the smooth

  surface of the table.

  It was pointless, but I slipped my hand inside the thigh and felt for

  the femoral artery. There was no pulse.

  "I'm sorry, Jack," I said.

  He didn't answer for a moment.

  "I've been read in' about this in the paper, Jim, but I never thought

  it would happen to me. It's a bugger, isn't it?"

  I nodded He was a craggy-faced man, a tough Yorkshire man with a humour

  and integrity which I liked and a soft place inside which his dog had

  occupied.

  I did not know what to say to him.

  "Who's coin' this?" he said, half to himself.

  "I don't know, Jack. Nobody knows."

  "Well I wish I could have five minutes with him; that's all." He

  gathered the rigid little form into his arms and went out.

  My troubles were not over for that day. It was about 11 p.m. and I had

  just got into bed when Helen nudged me.

  "I think there's somebody knocking at the front door, Jim."

  I opened the window and looked out. Old Board man, the lame veteran of

  the first war who did odd jobs for us, was standing on the steps.

  "Mr Herriot," he called up to me.

  "I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but Patch is ill."

  I leaned further out.

  "What's he doing?"

  "He's like a bit o' wood stiff like, and laid on 'is side."

  i I didn't bother to dress, Just pulled my working corduroys over my

  pyjamas and went down the stairs two at a time. I grabbed what I

  needed from the dispensary and opened the front door. The old man, in

  shirt sleeves, caught at my arm.

  "Come quickly, Mr Herriot!" He limped ahead of me to his little house

  about twenty yards away in the lane round the corner.

  Patch was like all the others. The fat spaniel I had seen so often

  waddling round the top yard with his master was in that nightmare

  position on the kitchen floor, but he had vomited, which gave me hope.

  I administered the intravenous injection but as I withdrew the needle

  the breathing stopped.

  Mrs Board man, in nightgown and slippers, dropped on her knees and

  stretched a trembling hand towards the motionless animal.

  "Patch...." She turned and stared at me, wide-eyed.

  "He's dead!"

  I put my hand on the old woman's shoulder and said some sympathetic

  words. I thought grimly that I was get ting good at it. As I left I

  looked back at the two old people. Board man was kneeling now by his

  wife and even after I had closed the door I could hear their voices:

  "Patch . . . oh Patch."

  I almost reeled over the few steps to Skeldale House and before going

  in I stood in the empty street breathing the cool air and trying to

  calm my racing thoughts. With Patch gone, this thing was get ting very

  near home. I saw that dog every day. In fact all the dogs that had

  died were old friends in a little town like Darrow by you came to know

  your patients personally. Where was it going to end?

  I didn't sleep much that night and over the next few days I was

  obsessed with apprehension. I expected another poison ing with every

  'phone call and took care never to let my own dog, Sam, out of the car

  in the region of the town. Thanks to my job I was able to exercise him

  miles away on the summits of the fells, but even there I kept him close

  to me.

  By the fourth day I was beginning to feel more relaxed. Maybe the

  nightmare was over. I was driving home in the late afternoon past the

  row of grey cottages at the end of the Houlton Road when a woman ran

  waving into the road.

  "Oh, Mr Herriot," she cried when I stopped.

  "I was just goin' to t'phone box when I saw you."

  I pulled up by the kerb.

  "It's Mrs Clifford, isn't it?"

  "Yes, Johnny's just come in and Fergus 'as gone queer. Collapsed and

  laid on t'floor."

&nb
sp; "Oh no!" An icy chill drove through me and for a moment I stared at

  her, unable to move. Then I threw open the car door and hurried after

  Johnny's mother into the end cottage. I halted abruptly in the little

  room and stared down in horror. The very sight of the splendid

  dignified animal scrabbling helplessly on the linoleum was a

  desecration, but strychnine is no respecter of such things.

  "Oh God!" I breathed.

  "Has he vomited, Johnny?"

  l "Aye, me mum said he was sick in t'back garden when we came in." Th

  young man was sitting very upright in a chair by the side of his dog.

  Even now there was a half smile on his face, but he looked strained as

  he put out his hand in the old gesture and failed to find the head that

  should have been there.

  The bottle of barbiturate wobbled in my shaking hand as I filled the

  syringe I tried to put away the thought that I was doing what I had

  done to all the others all the dead ones. At my feet Fergus panted

  desperately, then as I bent over him he suddenly became still and went

  into the horrible distinctive spasm the great limbs I knew so well

  straining frantically into space, the head pulled back grotesquely over

  the spine. : This was when they died, when the muscles were at full

  contraction. As the barbiturate flowed into the vein I waited for

  signs of relaxation but saw none Fergus was about twice as heavy as any

  of the other victims I had treated and the plunger went to the end of

  the syringe without result.

  Quickly I drew in another dose and began to inject it, my tension

  building as I saw how much I was administering. The recommended dose

  was I cc per 5 lb body weight and beyond that you could kill the

  animal. I watched the gradations on the glass barrel of the syringe

  and my mouth went dry when the dose crept far beyond the safety limit.

  But I knew I had to relieve this spasm and continued to depress the

  plunger relentlessly.

  I did it in the grim knowledge that if he died now I would never know

  whether to blame the strychnine or myself for his death.

  The big dog had received more than a lethal amount before peace began

  to return to the taut body and even then I sat back on my heels, almost

  afraid to look in case I had brought about his end. There was a long

  agonising moment when he lay still and apparently lifeless then the rib

  cage began to move almost imperceptibly as the breathing recommenced.

  Even then I was in suspense. The anaesthesia was so deep that he was

  only just alive, yet I knew that the only hope was to keep him that

  way. I sent Mrs' Clifford out to phone Siegfried that I would be tied

  up here for a while, then I pulled up a chair and settled down to

  wait.

  The hours passed as Johnny and I sat there, the dog stretched between

  us; The young man discussed the case calmly and without self-pity.

  There was no suggestion that this was any thing more than a pet animal

  Lying at his feet-except for the tell-tale reaching for the head that

  was no longer there.

  Several times Fergus showed signs of going into another spasm and each

  time: I sent him back into his deep, deep insensibility, pushing him

  repeatedly to the, brink with a fateful certainty that it was the only

  way.

  It was well after midnight when I came sleepily out into the darkness.

  I felt drained. Watching the life of the friendly, clever,

  face-licking animal flicker a$he lay inert and unheeding had been a

  tremendous strain, but I had left him sleeping still anaesthetised but

  breathing deeply and regularly. Would he wake up and start the dread

  sequence again? I didn't know and I couldn't stay any longer. There

  was a practice with other animals to at tend to.

  But my anxiety jerked me into early wakefulness next morning. I tossed

  around till seven thirty telling myself this wasn't the way to be a

  veterinary surgeon, that you couldn't live like this. But my worry was

  stronger than the voice of reason and I slipped out before breakfast to

  the roadside cottage. .

  My nerves were like a bowstring as I knocked on the door. Mrs

  Clifford] answered and I was about to blurt out my enquiries when

  Fergus trotted from the inner room.

  He was still a little groggy from the vast dosage of barbiturate but he

  was relaxed and happy, the symptoms had gone, he was himself again.

  With a gush Of pure joy I knelt and took the great head between my

  hands. He slobbered at me playfully with his wet tongue and I had to

  fight him off.

  He followed me into the living room where Johnny was seated at the

  table, drinking tea. He took up his usual position, sitting upright

  and proud by his master's side.

  "You'll have a cup, Mr Herriot?" Mrs Clifford asked, poising the

  teapot.

  "Thanks, I'd love one, Mrs Clifford," I replied.

  No tea ever tasted better and as I sipped I watched the young man's

  smiling face.

  "What a relief, Mr Herriot! I sat up with him all night, listen in'

  to the chimes of the church clock. It was just after four when I knew

  we'd won because I heard 'im get to his feet and sort o' stagger about.

  I stopped worry in' then, just listened to 'is feet patterin'on the

  linoleum. It was lovely!"

  He turned his head to me and I looked at the slightly upturned eyes in

  the cheerful face.

  "I'd have been lost without Fergus, "he said softly.

  "I don't know how to thank you."

  But as he unthinkingly rested his hand on the head of the big dog who

  was his pride and delight I felt that the gesture alone was all the

  thanks I wanted.

  That was the end of the strychnine poison ing outbreak in Darrow by.

  The older people still talk about it, but nobody ever had the slightest

  clue to the identity of the killer and it is a mystery to this day.

  I feel that the vigilance of the police and the publicity in the press

  frightened this twisted person off, but anyway it just stopped and the

  only cases since then have been accidental ones.

  To me it is a sad memory of failure and frustration. Fergus was my

  only cure and I'm not sure why he recovered. Maybe the fact that I

  pushed the injection to dangerous levels because I was desperate had

  something to do with it, or maybe he just didn't pick up as much poison

  as the others. I'll never know.

  But over the years when I saw the big dog striding majestically in his

  harness, leading his master unerringly around the streets of Darrow by,

  I always had the same feeling.

  If there had to be just one saved, I'm glad it was him.

  Chapter Eighteen A tender nerve twinged as the old lady passed me the

  cup of tea. She looked just like Mrs Beck.

  One of the local churches was having a social evening to entertain us

  lonely airmen and as I accepted the cup and sat down I could hardly

  withdraw my eyes from the lady's face.

  Mrs Beck! I could see her now standing by the surgery window.

  "Oooh, I never thought you were such a 'eartless man, Mr Herriot."

  Her chin trembled and she looked up at me reproachfully.

  "But Mrs
Beck," I said.

  "I assure you I am not being in the least heartless.

  just cannot carry out a major operation on your cat for ten

  shillings."

  "Well, I thought you would've done it for a poor widder woman like

  me."

  I regarded her thoughtfully, taking in the small com pact figure, the

  heal' cheeks, the neat helmet of grey hair pulled tightly into a bun.

  Was she real a poor widow? There was cause for doubt. Her next-door

  neighbour in Rayt village was a confirmed sceptic.

  "It's all a tale, Mr Herriot," he had said.

  "She tries it on wi' everybody, I'll tell you this she's got a long

  stock in'. Owns property all over "'place."

  I took a deep breath.

  "Mrs Beck. We often do work at reduced rates for people who can't

  afford to pay, but this is what we call a luxury operation."

  "Luxury!" The lady was aghast.

  "Eee, ah've been tell in' you how Georgi keeps havin' them kittens.

  She's at it all the time and it's get tin' me down.

  can't sleep for worry in' when t'next lot's com in'." She dabbed her