eyes.
"I understand and I'm sorry. I can only tell you again that the only
way prevent this trouble is to spay your cat and the charge IS one
pound."
"Nay, I can't afford that much!"
I spread my hands.
"But you are asking me to do it for half the price. That's ridiculous.
This operation involves the removal of the uterus and ovaries under a
general anaesthetic. You just can't do a job like that for ten
shillings." : "Oh, you are cruel!" She turned and looked out of the
window and h shoulders began to shake.
"You won't even take pity on a poor widder."
This had been going on for ten minutes and it began to dawn on me that
was in the presence of a stronger character than myself. I glanced at
my wet, - I should have been on my round by now and it was becoming
increasingly' obvious that I wasn't going to win this argument.
I sighed. Maybe she really was a poor widow.
"All right, Mrs Beck, I'll it for ten shillings, just this once. Will
Tuesday afternoon be all right for you' She swung round from the
window, her face crinkling magically into a smile "That'll suit me
grand! Eee, that's right kind of you." She tripped past me al I
followed her along the passage.
"Just one thing," I said as I held the front door open for her.
"Don't give, Georgina any food from midday on Monday. She must have an
empty stomach' when you bring her in."
"Bringer in?" She was a picture of bewilderment.
"But I 'aven't got no car I thought you'd be collect in' her."
"Collecting! But Ray ton's five miles away!"
"Yes, and bringer back afterwards, too. I 'ave no transport."
"Collect . . . operate on her . . . take her back! All for ten
shillings!"
She was still smiling but a touch of steel glinted in her eyes.
"Well, that's what you agreed to charge ten shillings."
"But ... but..."
"Oh now you're star tin' again." The smile faded and she put her head
on o side.
"And I'm only a poor . . ."
"Okay, okay," I said hastily.
"I'll call on Tuesday."
And when Tuesday afternoon came round I cursed my softness. If that a
had been brought in I could have operated on her at two o'clock and
been on the road doing my farm calls by two thirty. I didn't mind
working at a 1 for half an hour, but how long was this business going
to take?
On my way out I glanced through the open door of the sitting room.
Tristan was supposed to be studying but was sleeping soundly in his
favourite chair.` went in and looked down at him, marvelling at the
utter relaxation, seen only ; l i .
s in a dedicated sleeper. His face was as smooth and untroubled as a
baby's, the DailY Mirror, open at the comic strips, had fallen across
his chest and a burnt-out Woodbine hung from one dangling hand.
I shook him gently.
"Like to come with me, Triss? I've got to pick up a cat."
He came round slowly, stretching and grimacing, but his fundamental
good nature soon reasserted itself.
"Certainly' dim," he said with a final yawn.
"It will be a pleasure."
Mrs Beck lived half way down the left side of Ray ton village. I
read
"Jasmine Cottage' on the brightly painted gate, and as we went up the
garden path the door opened and the little woman waved gaily.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen, I'm right glad to see you both." She
ushered us into the living-room among good, solid-loo king furniture
which showed no sign of poverty. The open cupboard of a mahogany
sideboard gave me a glimpse of glasses and bottles. I managed to
identify Scotch, cherry brandy and sherry before she nudged the door
shut with her knee.
I pointed to a cardboard box loosely tied with string.
"Ah, good, you've got her in there, have you?"
"Nay, bless you, she's in "'garden. She all us has a bit of play out
there of an afternoon."
"In the garden, eh?" I said nervously.
"Well, please get her in, we're in rather a hurry."
We went through a tiled kitchen to the back door. Most of these
cottages had a surprising amount of land behind them and Mrs Beck's
patch was in very nice order. Flower beds bordered a smooth stretch of
lawn and the sunshine drew glittering colours from the apples and pears
among the branches of the trees.
"Georgina," carolled Mrs Beck.
"Where are you, my pet?"
No cat appeared and she turned to me with a roguish smile.
"I think the little imp's pl ayin' a game with us. She does that, you
know."
"Really?" I said without enthusiasm.
"Well, I wish she'd show herself. I really don't have much . . ."
At that moment a very fat tabby darted from a patch of chrysanthemums
and flitted across the grass into a clump of rhododendrons with Tristan
in close pursuit. The young man dived among the greenery and the cat
emerged from the other end at top speed, did a couple of laps of the
lawn then shot up a gnarled tree.
Tristan, eyes gleaming in anticipation, lifted a couple of windfall
apples from the turf.
"I'll soon shift the bugger from there, Jim," he whispered and took
aim.
I grabbed his arm.
"For heaven's sake, Triss!" I hissed.
"You can't do that.
Put those things down."
"Oh . . . all right." He dropped the apples and made for the tree.
"I'll get hold of her for you, anyway."
"Wait a minute." I seized his coat as he passed.
"I'll do it. You stay down here and try to catch her if she jumps."
Tristan looked disappointed but I gave him a warning look. The way the
cat had moved, it struck me that it only needed a bit of my colleague's
ebullience to send the animal winging into the next county. I began to
climb the tree.
I like cats, I've always liked them, and since I feel that animals
recognise this in a person I have usually been able to approach and
handle the most difficult types. It is not too much to say that I
prided myself on my cat technique; I didn't foresee any trouble here.
Puffing slightly, I reached the top branch and extended a hand to the
crouching animal.
"Pooss-pooss," I cooed, using my irresistible cat tone.
Georgina eyed me coldly and gave no answering sign other than a higher'
arching of the back.
I leaned further along the branch.
"Pooss-pooss, pooss-pooss." My voice w like molten honey, my finger
near her face. I would rub her cheek ever so gently and she would be
mine. It never failed.
"Pah!" replied Georgina warningly but I took no heed and touched the
fur under her chin.
"Pah-pah!" Georgina spat and followed with a lightning left hook which
opened a bloody track across the back of my hand.
Muttering fervently, I retreated and nursed my wounds From below M Beck
gave a tinkling laugh.
"Oh, isn't she a little monkey! She's that playful, bless her."
I snorted and began to ease my way along the branch again. This time
thought grimly, I would dispense with finesse. The
quick grab was
indicated here.
As though reading my thoughts the little creature tripped to the end of
the branch and as it bent low under her weight she dropped lightly to
the grass. .
Tristan was on her in a flash, throwing himself full length and seizing
her by the hind leg. Georgina whipped round and unhesitatingly sank
a single howl of agony he changed his grip at lightning speed to the
scruff of the neck.
A moment later he was standing upright holding a dangling fighting fury
high in the air.
"Right, Jim," he called happily.
"I have her."
"Good lad! Hang on!" I said breathlessly and slithered down the tree
as quickly as I could. Too quickly, in fact, as an ominous ripping
sound announced the removal of a triangular piece of my jacket elbow.
But I couldn't bother with trifles. Ushering Tristan at a gallop into
the house I opened the cardboard box. There were no sophisticated cat
containers in those days and it was a tricky job to enclose Georgina,
who was lashing out in all directions and complaining bitterly in a
bad-tempered wail.
It took a panting ten minutes to imprison the cat but even with several
yard.
of rough twine round the floppy cardboard I still didn't feel very
secure as I bor' Mrs Beck raised a finger as we were about to drive
away. I carefully explored my lacerated hand and Tristan sucked his
thumb as we waited for her to speak.
"Mr Herriot, I 'ope you'll be gentle wither she said anxiously.
"She's very timid, you know."
We had covered barely half a mile before sounds of strife arose from
the back.
"Get back! Get in there. Get back, you bugger!"
I glanced behind me. Tristan was having trouble. Georgina clearly
didn't care for the motion of the car and from the slits in the box
clawed feet issued repeatedly; on one occasion an enraged spitting face
got free as far as the neck.
Tristan kept pushing everything back with great resolution but I could
tell from the rising desperation of his cries that he was fighting a
losing battle.
I heard the final shout with a feeling of inevitability.
"She's out, Jim! The bugger's out!"
Well this was great. Anybody who has driven a car with a hysterical:
hurtling around the interior will appreciate my situation. I crouched
low over the wheel as the furry creature streaked round the sides or
leaped clawing at the roof or windscreen with Tristan lunging vainly
after her.
But cruel fate had not finished with us yet. My colleague's gasps and
grunt from the rear ceased for a moment to be replaced by a horrified
shriek.
"The bloody thing's shitting, Jim! She's shitting everywhere!"
The cat was obviously using every weapon at her disposal and he didn't
have to tell me. My nose was away ahead of him, and I frantically
wound down the window. But I closed it just as quickly at the rising
image of Georgina escaping and disappearing into the unknown I don't
like to think of the rest of that journey. I tried to breathe through
my mouth and Tristan puffed out dense clouds of Woodbine smoke but it
was still pretty terrible. Just outside Darrow by I stopped the car
and we made a concerted onslaught of the animal; at the cost of a few
more wounds, including a particularly painful scratch on my nose, we
cornered her and fastened her once more in the Even on the operating
table Georgina had a few tricks left. We were using ether and oxygen
as anaesthetic and she was particularly adept at holding her breath
while the mask was on her face then returning suddenly to violent life
when we thought she was asleep. We were both sweating when she finally
went under.
I suppose it was inevitable, too, that she should be a difficult
case.
Ovarohysterectomy in the cat is a fairly straightforward procedure and
nowadays we do innumerable cases uneventfully, but in the thirties'
particularly in country practice, it was infrequently done and
consequently a much larger undertaking.
I personally had my own preferences and aversions in this field. For
instance, I found thin cats easy to do and fat cats difficult. Georgina
When I opened her abdomen an ocean of fat welled up at me, obscuring
everything, and I spent a long nerve-racking period lifting out
portions of bowel or omentum with my forceps, surveying them gloomily
and stuffing them back in again. A great weariness had began to creep
over me by the time I at last managed to grip the pink ovary between
the metallic jaws and drew forth the slender string of uterus. After
that it was routine, but I still felt a strange sense of exhaustion as
I inserted the last stitch.
I put the sleeping cat into the box and beckoned to Tristan.
"Come on, let's get her home before she comes round." I was star ting
along the passage when he put his hand on my arm.
"Jim," he said gravely.
"You "Yes, Triss, of course."
"I'd do any thing for you, Jim.
' I'm sure you would."
He took a deep breath.
"Except one thing. I'm not going back in that bloody car."
I nodded dully. I really couldn't blame him.
"That's all right," I said.
"I'll be off, then."
Before leaving I sprinkled the interior with pine-smelling disinfectant
but it didn't make much difference. In any case my main emotion was
the hope that Georgina wouldn't wake up before I got to Ray ton, and
that was shattered before I had crossed Darrow by market place. The
hair prickled on the back of my neck as an ominous droning issued from
the box on the rear seat. It was like the sound of a distant swarm of
bees but I knew what it meant; the anaesthetic was wearing off Once
clear of the town I put my foot on the boards. This was something I
rarely did because whenever I pushed my vehicle above forty miles an
hour there was such a clamour of protest from engine and body that I
always feared the thing would disintegrate around me. But at this
moment I didn't care. Teeth clenched' eyes staring, I hurtled forward,
but I didn't see the lonely strip of tarmac or the stone walls flitting
past; all my attention was focused behind me, where the swarm of bees
was get ting nearer and the tone angrier.
When it developed into a bad-tempered yowling and was accom panied by
the sound of strong claws tearing at cardboard I began to tremble As I
thundered into Ray ton village I glanced behind me. Georgina was half
out of the box reached back and grasped her scruff and when I stopped
at the gate of Jasmin Cottage I pulled on the brake with one hand and
lifted her on to my lap wit the other.
I sagged in the seat, my breath escaping in a great explosion of
relief; and my stiff features almost bent into a smile as I saw Mrs
Beck pottering in her garden She took Georgina from me with a cry of
joy but gasped in horror when she saw the shaven area and
the two
stitches on the cat's flank.
"Oooh, my darlin'! What 'ave those nasty men been coin' to you?" She
hugged the animal to her and glared at me.
"She's all right, Mrs Beck, she's fine," I said.
"You can give her a little milk tonight and some solid food tomorrow.
There's nothing to worry about."
She pouted.
"Oh, very well. And now . . ." She gave me a sidelong glance.
"I
suppose you'll want your money?"
"Weller ..."
"Wait there, then. I'll get it." She turned and went into the
house.
Standing there, leaning against the reeking car, feeling the sting of
the scratches on my hands and nose and examining the long tear on my
jacket elbow I felt physically and emotionally spent. All I had done
this afternoon was spay a cat but I had nothing more to offer.
Apathetically I watched the lady coming down the path. She was