-Over here, Mr Herriot. -Mr Hawley.
(BIRD TWITTERING)
Listen, Mom, is that a Magpie?
-No, darling, that's a Peewit. -(DOG HOWLS)
Listen, what's that?
(DOG YELPS)
-Leave that dog alone! -He's hurting it, mommy.
(DOG BARKING)
You clear off. Go on.
This is private property. Get out of it.
Clear off!
Go on.
I've never seen nothing like it.
How long has she been like this?
Oh. Must be two hours since.
I'm not sure about this.
No scour, no pneumonia. I don't understand.
It'll be pretty bad, then.
JAMES: Well, I can't be certain yet.
Look, I'll tell you what, I'll get my partner to call round as soon as possible.
-That'll be Mr Farnon. -That's right, Mr Siegfried.
You keep her warm, Mr Hawley, and don't worry.
(LAUGHING)
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
You busy, Farnon?
Uh, well, yes, in a way. Uh, anything I can do?
Yes, I've got a job for you.
Oh, good.
-I'll need you to go over to Hull next Thursday. -Hull?
This department has to send a qualified vet over there
to supervise the loading of a cargo of sheep bound for Russia.
Good Lord! Who's exporting British sheep to the Russkies?
It's a breeding consortium in the Midlands.
And as you know,
the regulations are very strict concerning the export of livestock.
So, what happens if I don't like the way
the Russkies are doing things?
-You stop the sailing. -Do I?
What with, a machine gun? (CHUCKLING)
No. No, you explain your objections to your opposite number on board.
Soviet livestock ships usually carry two vets.
To vet each other politically, no doubt.
Possibly.
Might I suggest you take your brother with you, in case of any difficulties.
Oh, I don't think that's an awfully good idea.
Brother Siegfried is not wildly enthusiastic about the Soviet Union.
-Is he not? -No, no, I'd rather take, um,
James Herriot, the other partner, if he's willing, of course.
Ah. Suit yourself. Anyway, here are the details.
Next Thursday, the 14th, berth number 6,
ship called the Maxim Gorky, due to sail at 5:00 pm. All right?
Okay, Mr Crawford, will do.
(DOOR SHUTS)
CRAWFORD: Oh, there is another matter.
Is it the sack?
Ah. Not quite yet, no.
-It's more of a promotion for you, actually. -Oh.
Well, as a country vet you'll be aware that some farmers,
especially up in your part of the world,
have been a bit slow to catch up with some of the new methods.
If they're going to build up their herds and increase their output,
they're gonna need some help.
So where do I come in?
Well, the area authority, on my personal recommendation, I may say,
has agreed to appoint you advisor to the North Riding of the county.
Good God.
Advisor on what?
He was like a madman, shouting and raging and pointing his gun at us.
-(PIANO PLAYING) -Jimmy was absolutely terrified, so was I.
That sounds like Dobbs all right.
That's the stone cottage up on Low Fell?
Yes. Is he some sort of hermit?
It was an isolated wreck of a place. Absolute pigsty.
He was quite distinguished looking...
Looking though, tall, you know, grey hair.
No one knows much about him.
He never talks to anybody, he never goes into the pub.
Apparently he was a prisoner with the Japs.
Well, he had a bad time and it affected his mind.
Yes. Well, all I can say is that if Jimmy and I
hadn't made a run for it when we did, we'd have been probably shot.
We might even have been killed.
And as for that wretched dog...
That's a stray, completely wild.
Appeared in the marketplace,
attacked and savaged a couple dogs,
then two men managed to net it.
-How do you know? -Siegfried. They sent for him to put it down.
Dobbs came forward and offered it a home.
-Dobbs? -Mmm.
-Seems to have taken on something, doesn't he? -He certainly has.
-(PIANO STOPS) -(RADIO PLAYING)
There. Stopped practising. I knew he would.
I'm not surprised. How can he concentrate with that noise going on?
I'll go and put a stop to it. It's time Rosie was in bed.
Jimmy?
There was a man going to shoot us today. I was scared.
Yes, I know. Mommy told me.
Look, Jimmy, I don't suppose he meant to hurt anybody.
He just wanted to frighten you, that's all.
He doesn't want anybody intruding on his life, you see.
He's what we call a hermit. Likes to live by himself, that's all.
-Rosie's come to say goodnight. -Oh, right.
Don't be long, will you? She's very tired.
Come on, you. I'm going to cut your toenails.
-Mom! -Yes. They'll only make holes in your socks.
(YAWNS)
-That's a big yawn. I can see your epiglottis. -What's my epiglosis?
Your epiglottis is that funny thing dangling down at the back.
Listen, Rosie, how would you like to come with me on my rounds tomorrow?
You can open the gates for me and you can explain
where I'm supposed to be going,
what I'm supposed to be doing. Hmm?
Daddy, can I? Oh, please.
If you're a good girl and you go upstairs and go to bed
and go to sleep, I'll think about it.
-I'm asleep now, look. -(CHUCKLING)
You go to bed, you monster.
Keep to your left. A bit more to your right.
Slow down a bit. Night.
Good morning, Mrs Whithorn.
(DOGS BARKING)
-Ruffles, no! You're not to... -(RUFFLES SNARLING)
-Muffles, come here. -MR WHITHORN: Don't be naughty now.
Will you stop it?
Dear, they're so pleased to see you.
There then, come along, my darling. Come to daddy.
It's only Mr Farnon. My precious one, there.
Isn't it funny the way they always welcome you so lovingly
and then try to stop you from leaving?
It's very flattering.
Come on!
Right then, which one needs attention?
Oh, it's Ruffles. Come along, Ruffy.
Tell Mr Farnon what's the matter, then.
There's nothing the matter with his teeth.
Oh, dear! Did he catch you with them?
Catch me? He bit me through my trouser leg.
Doubtless, I shall survive.
All right then, Ruffles, what's the matter?
Oh, it's his front paw, the right one.
Oh, he's in such agony.
-Poor little chap. -There.
All right then, Ruffles, let's have a look...
-(SNARLING) -(EXCLAIMING)
Oh! Do be careful, Mr Farnon. I think you're hurting him.
He's very nervous. Aren't you, dear?
Let's have a look. Ah, yes. I see.
Well, that's nothing more than a perfectly harmless little digital cyst.
You can bathe that in hot water until it bursts.
That is unless he bursts it himself by nibbling at it.
But hot water will hasten the process.
Can't you give him anything to relieve the pain?
Not really, no.
But I'm going to give him a shot of antibiotic, in case of infection.
Ah.
There we are. All right.
(WHISPERING) Here we are, my friend.
(RUFFLES WHIMPERS)
Here we are, my friend. That's you done. That's you done.
I'll look in tomorrow
and give him another shot and so on for the next day or two.
Please, don't bother to see me out. I can find my own way.
(DOOR SHUTS)
Here you are, darling. What do you think of those?
-What are they? -Ideas for a new bathroom.
-A new bathroom? For here? -Mmm-hmm. Yeah.
But, James, I thought we...
I thought we were going to save up for a house of our own.
That's out of the question, darling. You know it is.
Yes. But, if we can't afford a smaller house to ourselves,
what do we need another bathroom here for?
Why spend money on somebody else's house?
We are expecting a new resident.
You haven't forgotten, have you?
No, I haven't.
Calum Buchanan queuing outside the bathroom
every morning with you and the kids?
How much will a new bathroom cost?
Well, plumbing to reach up to the attic...
We'll use the box-room. Just about big enough for a bath and a loo.
How much will it cost?
Quite. Could always try and sell that second ring.
Well, darling, it's got to be done.
I suppose so. It's just... Never mind.
(SIGHS)
Right. It's gonna be a bit sore for a couple of days, but he should soon get better.
As long as he doesn't chew this bandage off.
You'll have to keep a close eye on that.
There we are. Shh. All right.
-Should be much more comfortable now. -Thank you.
-Thank you, bye-bye. -Bye-bye,
SIEGFRIED: Goodbye.
-Hello, Tris. -What are you doing here?
The Min of Ag and Fish, finally thrown you out, did they?
On the contrary, gentlemen, you see before you
the official Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries'
sterility advisory officer for the North Riding of Yorkshire.
-JAMES: Ooh! -Just say that again, slowly.
In simple terms, Siegfried, they want me to go around the area advising farmers
what to do if their bulls fail to inseminate their cows properly
-and produce substandard calves or no calves at all. -Oh, that.
But I thought they'd solved that with artificial insemination.
Oh, we have now.
And I am to be the North Riding's consultant, adviser and expert.
You, an expert on insemination?
That'll be a change.
"Do you want to see your cow in calf?
"Send for Tristan Farnon,
"the wonder vet, who can bring about a pregnancy in anything
"from a Jersey cow to a jackal."
"Calling all cows. Treat yourself to a test tube calf.
"Let Tristan Farnon succeed where your bull has failed."
"Who needs a stallion, when the man from the Ministry can do it?"
It's not all that funny, you know.
This A.I. business could make a hell of a difference to the nation's milk supply.
Of course, it could...
and will, my dear man.
It's just the thought of you... (LAUGHING)
Teaching bulls to ejaculate.
-Into an artificial vagina. -(LAUGHING)
Oh, my dear brother.
Look, when you've quite finished your rather childish schoolboy ribaldry,
-I should like to ask James a question. -Oh, sorry, yes.
-Are you free next Thursday to come with me to Hull? -I could be. What for?
To supervise the shipment of a cargo of sheep to the Soviet Union.
-Ah... -What?
Good heavens! From insemination to indoctrination.
Tell me, Tristan, are they going for a short spell
to have their tiny brains washed or are they being
banished for life as undercover agents for the Min of Ag?
All right. So it's my day to endure the barbed wits of Messrs Herriot and Farnon.
But I've got to go to Hull anyway
and I'm not very keen to go alone.
All right, Tris, I'll chance it.
Might as well both end up in Siberia together.
-That's a firm offer, is it, James? -Da.
-What? -Da.
It's Russian for yes. Maybe you should learn to say nyet.
-Is that no? -Da.
Oh, God.
He'll never learn.
-James, are these yours? -Yes.
-I found them on the desk. -Sorry.
No, no, no, no.
If you and Helen think that you need a second bathroom,
which I'm inclined to think you do now,
remember it's my place to pay for it, this being my house.
Yes, I suppose so.
Listen, I know that you two sometimes yearn
for a smaller house of your own, away from the job.
Well, Helen does. Mrs Greenlaw keeps going on at her
-about the joys of owning your own home, et cetera. -Yes, but all the same,
with Calum upstairs in that attic,
you won't be so tied to the place, will you now?
I don't see what difference that makes, Siegfried.
All the difference in the world, my dear James.
Look, I'm going to install a telephone extension up there,
so you and Calum can work out a roster,
and then you can share the emergency calls between you.
Then when it's Calum's night on duty,
you can take Helen to the cinema anytime you think.
What?
When Calum is on duty, you and Helen can listen
to your Wagner records undisturbed.
Good thinking, Siegfried.
And I could use the proceeds from that second ring to pay for the new radiogram.
-Radiogram? -Mmm.
-What do you mean, one of those big stand-up things? -That's right.
Berrydale's are sending two of their newest models over later this morning
-for me to choose. -That's splendid.
Parsifal will sound so much better from a radiogram.
-Exactly. -Listen,
wasn't it Bernard Shaw who first made the British public
aware of the genius of Richard Wagner?
Yes, I believe it was, why?
Look, the old man's just broken his leg,
"Pruning an apple tree in his garden at Ayot St. Lawrence."
At his age?
He is 94! Dear God.
Trimming trees at 94?
Well, I'd better get my skates...
What was I doing? Oh, Lord.
I'd better be off, Siegfried.
You did say you'd be here for a couple of hours, didn't you?
I'll be here till 11:00, yes.
Then I've got to go and see Bill Hawley
-about that calf of his that had you baffled. -Ah.
And I was trying to fit in old Dibble's donkey before that.
It's got the thrush again.
Why don't you talk to Dibble about George Bernard Shaw?
That will shut him up.
(HONKS)
(CAR DOOR SHUTS)
-Morning, Mr Casling? -Morning.
Calf with a broken leg.
Aye, it's in the field.
Right. Can I have a bucket of water, lukewarm, please?
Harold.
(CALF BELLOWING)
Fetch it to ground for Mr Herriot, lad.
-Get its leg, lad. -(CALF BELLOWS)
-It's this one, Mr Herriot. -Right.
Shush there.
Shush, shush, shush.
JAMES: Thanks. Could you hold onto that for me, please?
Right.
Right, hold that.
Thanks.
All right, all right.
DIBBLE: I'll tell you something else about this old creature of mine.
You can give him a carrot, cut up or whole.
Missus brings him out carrots from the house, you see.
He just loves them.
Well, this donkey, he'll refuse to eat anything
as long as you're stood by him.
But the minute your back's turned,
he'll wolf 'em up like he's not been fed for a week.
I keep him in here while he's poorly.
As I say, he's been going badly a week or two
and he's not found much grazing in the paddock, just that thistle.
And that weren't doing him a right lot of good.
Mr Dibble, would you mind holding his head?
A drop of rain wouldn't come amiss.
Ground's really dry and hard.
And talking of dry ground, there's not a drop of water in that pond down by the road.
I can't remember that drying up.
I were telling old Sam it must be six, seven, eight...
(CALF MOOING)
Poor old thing.
Just like Bernard Shaw, eh?
Eh?
George Bernard Shaw.
He broke his leg, too, yesterday.
Bernard Shaw did.
-Who? -George Bernard Shaw.
Does he live round here?
Well, uh, no. No, not really.
Darrowby man?
No, he's Hertfordshire, actually and London.
-CASLING: London? -Mmm.
He'll not be in the farming line, then?
No.
No, he's in the, um, the playwriting line.
He writes plays.
Oh, I see.
JAMES: For the theatre.
Right.
Leave that for a bit, then you can let him up.
Right, lad. Go on.
Get. (CLICKING TONGUE)
Get him up. Go on. Get on, go on.
Good.
JAMES: Right. I'll be back in about a month to get the plaster off.
-All right. -Aye, right.
Thank you. Bye.
And I hope your London friend's leg mends all right, Mr Herriot.
Then the following evening, Councillor Bateson come into the pub with his wife.
Started buying drinks all round, you know,
trying to get on terms with all them that were in there.
He'd been criticised in the local press
for his attitude over that drainage cleaned off back in that land.
He'd opposed it, see, on the grounds of cost,
but most of the farmers up that way,
they reckoned they had a responsibility to put it right.
I think they had as well.
I think it were council laddies that were blocking them drains.
-Through there. -Right.
Is this the new radiogram?
Yes, darling. Three of them for daddy to choose from.
Right. We'll just fetch the other two in, madam.
Then we'll get them all unwrapped and wired up.
Where are your power points?
Uh. Oh. Well, there's one there and there's one by the door.
Oh, they'll be all right.
-Isn't it exciting? -Yes.
I'd like you to get me a piece of string, if you'd be so good.
String?
Yes. About that long.
Right, I'll get you some.
Now, where did I...
That's on all right now.
Can I put my record on?
Yes, darling, of course you can.
It'll help us choose which one's best.
When did I use it last?
(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING ON RADIOGRAM)
What on earth do you think you're doing? Get that record off at once.
Darling, we were just...
Sorry.
-Good afternoon. -Afternoon, sir.
Hardly the best sort of thing to judge one of these things by.
They're all wired up now, sir. They just want switching on.
Ah, good.
I'd like to start with a decent record.
Ah.
Um...
-Start with that one, I think. -Right you are, sir.
We'll go in the kitchen. Yes, darling.
Just while Daddy makes up his mind.
Come on.
(OPERATIC INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC PLAYS)
Ah!
I've had hell of a job to find a piece of string, Mr Farnon.
Is it too late? Is the calf dead? Has he gone?
Gone? Good lord, no.
Thank you.
Lost a couple of...
Buttons at the last place.
Cow got her horn underneath them.
Can't bear flapping clothes.
There.
What about calf, Mr Farnon?
Oh, he's got...
Cerebral meningitis.
That's a brain disease.
Oh, he has, has he?
I'm gonna give him an antibiotic injection.
That should do the trick.
Daddy's put the same piece of music on six times.
I know. Because he can't decide which machine to buy.
-How long will he be? -I don't know.
(MUSIC STOPS)
Listen, it's stopped.
-JAMES: Helen? -Yes?
JAMES: Come in and bring the kids.
Now, I've had a lot of trouble trying to decide between that one and this one.
That one is incredibly expensive.
This one, in fact, is the cheapest.
But this one is marvellous. It's got a wonderful tone.
It is £95, but, to hell with it.
It's up to you, darling.
It's your money and clearly it's going to be your radiogram.
You must decide.
Right. I'll settle for this one, please.
Right you are, sir. Very good choice, if I may say so.
Fine machine that one. Won't give you no trouble.
Good. Come on, let's have some lunch.
Won't be a second, darling.
I'm passing your door tomorrow, so I'll look in.
Oh, would you, Mr Farnon?
He might be a bit better by then.
That antibiotic injection usually does the trick.
Shame he weren't cured with a piece of string,
like I first thought it were your intention.
That would have been a miracle, Mr Hawley,
and I'm only a vet.
-Stay in the car, Rosie. -But, Daddy...
Stay in the car.
Look, you're a great help and I love having you with me, but not here.
-Afternoon, Mr Herriot. -Hello, Mr Binns.
There she is, in the fold.
Couldn't you have got her tied up?
Nay, I'm short of room and this one spends most of her time on the moors.
All right.
Oh, please, Daddy.
Oh, all right. But you stay this side of the fence, hmm?
Stand in the corner by the gate, understood?
-All right, Daddy. -That's my girl.
(COW MOOING)
-Can you hold her all right? -Aye. I think so.
You'll find the place at the end of her back there.
How long has she had this, Mr Binns?
About two months now.
Keeps bursting and filling up over and over again.
Well, it's an old wound and it's got infected.
There's a lot of dead tissue to cut away before it can heal.
Rosie, will you bring scissors, cotton wool
and that bottle of peroxide from the car, please?
By God, little lass knows her way around, doesn't she?
She doesn't know where everything is.
But for the stuff I use regularly, she's a marvel.
I'll get rid of that discharge and disinfect the area.
It's a mess, Mr Binns.
Thanks, love.
-(COW MOOING) -Ooh, shh. It's all right. Sorry.
(SCISSORS SNIPPING)
(COW MOOING)
Right, that should do it.
Hold on to her, Mr Binns.
Mr Binns!
Come here, you devil.
Rosie!
(COW MOOING)
BINNS: Come here, you devil.
Can we go now, Daddy?
Yes, Rosie, we're finished here.
-Rosie? -Yes, Daddy?
Standing still when that cow was coming towards you
was absolutely the right thing to do.
You were very brave. Very sensible, too.
Was I?
When a person stands still it's no threat to the animal,
so the animal doesn't get frightened.
So it leaves you alone.
You will always remember that, won't you?
Yes, Daddy.
Good girl.
Mr Pinkerton?
Mr Pinkerton.
Good afternoon, Mr Pinkerton.
Oh, I say, what a fine looking fellow.
Come on, now. Come on.
Come on. Good boy.
(GRUNTS) Let's get him up.
-He likes going up, does he? -That's a good boy.
Now then, old lad, what can we do for you?
He looks fit enough to me.
Aye, he's all right in himself, Mr Farnon, but...
-But? -Well, you see...
Well, I really don't know just how to put it.
He isn't quite right.
Is he ill?
Not ill exactly, no. It's just that...
Come on, man, you must know what's wrong with your dog.
Well, you see...
It's his pencil.
-His pencil? -Aye.
There's something the matter with his pencil.
Down there, if you get me meaning.
I don't see anything unusual, do you, Helen?
-No. -Oh, there's something the matter.
Something coming out from his pencil.
Oh, you mean that little drop of seminal fluid at the end of the prepuce?
-Aye. -That's nothing to worry about.
He's a fine, fit, healthy dog, full of the joys of spring.
It's a kind of, uh... (STAMMERS)
Overflow, you might say.
But if you like, you can cut down on his diet a bit,
see he gets plenty of exercise.
That should sober him up.
And there's nothing wrong with his pencil?
Nothing, Mr Pinkerton. His pencil is perfect.
Now, Mrs Herriot will give you a bottle of mild sedative tablets.
Thank you, Helen. The white oval ones on the middle shelf.
Certainly.
They should induce a certain calm.
Half a crown.
Thank you, Mr Pinkerton.
Eh, Mr Farnon?
-Yes? -What about his pencil?
-What's the matter, Daddy? -Looking for Uncle Siegfried.
He said he was coming to look at Mr Dibble's donkey.
-A donkey? -Mmm-hmm.
Like Eeyore?
Well, a bit like Eeyore. Only he's ill.
He's got an infection of the hoof.
Well, I think we'd better have a look at it,
in case Uncle Siegfried hasn't managed to.
And be quick, or we'll get soaked.
Mr Dibble. How is he?
Oh, Mr Farnon called this morning.
He seemed quite satisfied with his progress.
Ah! Well, I wasn't certain that he'd been able to make it.
Aye, Mr Farnon said he's quite pleased with his progress.
Seemed to think it'd clear up in a few days.
Just listen to that rain coming down now, all right.
Well, I think we'd better be getting back. Rosie.
Not in this, Mr Herriot, you'll get soaked.
And the little lass, with no Mac nor coat.
-Well, I thought... -Sit thee self down for a bit
till it slackens. We'll have a nice chat.
Here, luv, make yourself comfortable on there.
As I said to Mr Farnon, we could do with a drop of nice rain.
Yes, Mr Dibble, we certainly could.
Forecast said there'd be rain this evening. Come early.
Still, we mustn't grumble.
(PIANO PLAYING)
Oh, it's pouring down, ma'am.
Yes, I know. And Rosie's gone out without her Mac.
-I hope she'll be all right. -Aye, so do I.
Master Jimmy's coming along well with his piano playing.
Yes, I wish he'd practise more though.
Aye, well, best be off. Goodbye, Mrs Herriot.
Thank you, Mrs Greenlaw. Bye-bye.
And there's another factor to take into consideration, Mr Herriot.
Some of those farmers that's going over to arable now from livestock,
unless they know what they're at,
and mind you, some of them don't, they're heading for trouble.
I've always said,
stick to what you know and what you were brought up with
and you'll not go to barren.
HELEN: Jimmy!
Greetings, dear lady.
Calum, you've arrived.
Um, I'm afraid James isn't back from his rounds yet.
But come on in anyway.
-Can I help you with some of your equipment? -Mmm-mmm.
We're a wee thing late, due to the foul weather,
-but we're here. -We?
Mmm-hmm. Me, Ramsey Mac, Marilyn and Charlie.
That's Charlie and Marilyn, as you can see, is the ex-army papoose.
-She travels warmer that way. -Yes, of course.
-Can I help? -Oh, hello, Jimmy.
You can take Ramsey Mac.
He's a very small cat. One week old.
I think perhaps he can manage something else.
Maybe these. Be careful though, they're very precious.
Bagpipes, golly.
Yes. Perhaps I ought to just take those
and then maybe you'd like something... A cup of tea?
-A wee dram, to keep out the damp. -Oh, yes. Yes, of course.
I am sorry about James. I can't think where they've gone to.
Rosie's with him. Come on in anyway.
My wee 'un Charlie.
HELEN: I hope you'll be comfortable.
I put you in the room James and I had when we were first married.
-It's in the attic. -Oh, that will suit me down to the ground.
(HELEN CHUCKLES)
JAMES: Thanks, Mr Dibble.
Well, Mr Herriot, it's stopped now.
It just goes to show that forecast,
you know, Mr Herriot, the one that said it'd rain...
(CHUCKLES) Well, it were wrong again.
It were wrong last week, too.
I put my sheep up at top field on account of what forecast said
and then we had that rain, I had to bring them back down again.
-(CAR STARTS) -(SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY)
...weatherman said it's gonna do one thing, it does another...
(CONTINUES SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY)
Weathermen... (CHUCKLES)
They tell us what we're gonna get instead of what comes.
-There you are. -Thanks, darling. Right.
-Here's a welcome to Skeldale for our new colleague. -Thank you.
Welcome to you.
Mmm. I'm sorry I wasn't there to greet you myself, Calum, but Rosie and I got trapped.
-Old Dibble over at Eastby? -Yeah. An old boy who can't stop talking.
If you ever have to visit him, be sure you make your escape
before he talks you into the ground.
Right, I will remember that.
Don't forget to pack your Russian dictionary.
Listen, I'm hoping some of them can speak English.
Oh, here's a handy phrase,
(SPEAKING RUSSIAN)
-What's that mean? -Does your pal speak English?
(BOTH CHUCKLE)
(SPEAKS RUSSIAN)
No, nor does my brother speak Russian.
Good morning, Calum. Are you settling in all right?
Fine, thank you.
As soon as Tris arrives, we leave for Hull.
Yes, so I gather.
And, ooh, I've got to go out, too, shortly.
I've got to go to the Whithorn's
for that awful Ruffles' injection.
Then to Dobbs at Whiteman Fell... Low Fell?
-Whichever. -So...
I'll take morning surgery, have no fear.
I've shown Calum where everything is
and Helen's been through the appointments book.
She'll bring you coffee at about 11:00.
I love a cup of coffee, especially around 11:00.
-Morning, all. -Morning.
Tris, I am all set. Calum has been teaching me some Russian.
-Oh, really? -Mmm.
Oh, I thought Gaelic was your native tongue, old chap.
-In Blairgowrie? -Yes, exactly.
I was hoping you could teach me some so I could converse with Deirdre.
-It might impress her. -Deirdre?
-Don't ask. -Morning, Siegfried.
Morning, dear brother. You're looking very smart.
Yes. I thought I'd wear a decent suit, impress the Russkies.
Won't make a scrap of difference
if they don't like the look of your face.
We'll be the very soul of tact and diplomacy.
If you do as well on Russian vodka as you usually do on the Bellringer's beer,
then, I think you'll be the centre of an international incident before nightfall.
My advice to you is caution.
Thank you.
-Bye, Siegfried. -HELEN: Goodbye.
-SIEGFRIED: Bye. -HELEN: Bye.
-Come on, Tris, let's go. -Right.
-Do svidanya. -Blairgowrie.
(LAUGHING)
-You're off? Be careful. -Yes.
If we're not back by midnight, telephone the foreign office
and tell them two British vets have defected to the Soviet Union.
With highly classified information
about the artificial insemination of livestock.
-Bye. -Goodbye.
(DOORBELL RINGING)
There, Ruffles dear. That'll be the kind vet
come to give you your injection and make you better.
-Let him in, Sidney. -MR WHITHORN: Yes, dear.
(DOGS SNARLING)
Come on in, Mr Farnon.
Mr Whithorn, I'd be most grateful
if you could pick up the dog to be injected...
-And bring him into the sitting room. -Of course. Come on, Ruffles.
And take the other one somewhere out of the way. Would you mind?
Good morning, Mr Farnon.
I'll take little Muffly up to my bedroom, while you see to Ruffles.
He can sit on my bed while I'm dressing. Can't you, sweetheart?
Come along.
-Right. -There, Ruffy.
Now, if you would please, hold him for me
with a very tight grip on either side of his head.
Oh, dear, that sounds awfully rough. Won't I hurt the little pet?
No, of course you won't hurt him.
Just hold him still, if you can.
Daddy will be so gentle, my angel.
There, there, my sweetheart.
Have you got him? There we are.
(GROWLS)
There, good boy. Hardly felt it.
-There, there... -(GROWLING)
Oh, you bloody little swine!
Look what you've done. I'm bleeding.
Nipped you, did he? Sorry about that.
A little punishment might not come amiss.
No more chocolate good-boys for a day or two.
Perhaps even a spot of solitary confinement,
until he learns a bit of discipline.
Yes, I'll think about that.
And you might cut down a trifle on the hugs and kisses.
That could help.
And if I were you, I'd go to my doctor
and get a shot of anti-tetanus for that nasty nip.
Same time tomorrow.
(RUFFLES GROWLING)
I'm from the Ministry of Agriculture, veterinary department.
(SHEEP BLEATING)
Good... Good afternoon.
-We are British... -Veterinary surgeons.
We come
to make inspection of ship.
Ship.
We wish to...
We wish to make sure
our animals have proper sanitary
and comfortable conditions for the voyage.
Regulations say,
we be happy before sheep sail away.
Absolutely.
Aah.
Come with me please, gentlemen.
I will introduce you to Ludmilla Ivanovnof Pavlechenko.
-Oh. -Our state veterinary surgeon.
Who is attached to my ship for the voyage.
This way, please.
(SPEAKING RUSSIAN)
I, animal doctor.
You, animal doctor?
-Yes. -So,
I complete first my check.
Then we shall proceed to embark the beasts.
Excuse, please.
(SHEEP BLEATING)
-Shouldn't we be doing this? -No.
They've got to make sure that we capitalists
don't introduce some virulent virus into the USSR.
As if we would.
Have you seen that old-fashioned thermometer she's using?
One of those two-minute jobs.
Came back from the Crimea with Florence Nightingale.
-How long is this going to take? -Well, work it out.
Now, that's 150 sheep, at approximately three to four minutes each...
Shut up, James.
(MOUTHING INAUDIBLY)
Mr Dobbs, are you there?
It's Farnon, the vet.
Anybody at home?
Ah. Mr Dobbs.
Good lord, what's happened to your dog?
All sheep, good health.
Yes.
Tell me, where come from sheep?
From London?
No, no, we don't have sheep in London, only cars and buses.
Sheep come from Kent, county of Kent.
Romney Marsh.
Romney Marsh? (LAUGHS)
Romney Marsh!
Oh, is good, is very pretty.
Romney Marsh...
I'll leave you to keep an eye on her, Tris.
I'll have a look around on board.
Don't go anywhere unauthorised.
Romney Marsh!
This is certainly a very changed animal
from the savage beast they rounded up in Darrowby the other day.
Not savage, Mr Farnon.
He was frightened because he'd been ill-treated.
Yeah, Mrs Herriot said you were ill-treating him
when she was up here a while ago.
She saw you thrashing him.
I had to stop him chasing sheep,
else he'd have got himself shot by a farmer.
Once he realised who was master here,
he calmed down, began to trust me.
So you both sleep out here, do you now?
He won't go in the house yet.
He associates kitchens with cruelty, you see.
Doesn't trust human beings.
You reckon he was ill-treated by the people he ran away from?
Must have been.
We understand each other.
Because you see, I've known what cruelty means, too,
like him.
From the Japs, in the war?
What this dog needed was a bit of discipline,
tempered with affection and understanding.
Indeed.
A few more days in here, he'll trust me enough to come into the cottage with me,
sit by the fire.
Won't you, hmm?
(MAN SPEAKS RUSSIAN)
Sorry, sorry.
(BARKING)
I told you to be careful.
-Are you all right? -Just about.
If that dog wasn't chained up, you'd have been eaten alive.
A dog wouldn't consciously eat a vet.
A Russkie dog might.
Oh, oh!
(SPEAKING RUSSIAN)
Remain here, please, both of you.
(SPEAKING RUSSIAN)
You will accompany me, please,
to the cabin of Zampolit Vladimir Petrovich Yakovlev,
the political representative on board.
Come, please.
Oh, thank you, Helen.
Sit down, Siegfried, I'm sure you've had a hard day.
Oh, fairly taxing as usual. Not without interest, though.
There are those Whithorns
with their dreadful terriers,
spoiled, absolutely ruined, by too much kindness
so that they're completely out of control.
And on the other side, there's old Dobbs,
with his certain knowledge that you can sometimes be kind by being cruel.
He's done wonders with that impossible collie of his.
Extraordinary, the difference between people.
Is he a bit mad, do you think?
Who, Dobbs? No, I don't think so.
Very much affected by his experiences in the war.
He doesn't trust people. That dog will be a good friend to him.
Yes, poor man.
Tell me, how is Calum settling in?
Oh, he seems happy enough
and we've gone ahead and ordered the bathroom, if that's all right with you.
Fine, just send me the bills.
It will be a lot easier for James
to have Calum on the spot to share the calls.
That was the idea.
Hope he and Tris are all right. It's after 5:00.
(TELEPHONE RINGING)
-I'll get it. I'll take it. -Thanks.
Zampolit Yakovlev invites you to join him now in a glass of vodka.
Thank you.
Spasibo.
Chin-chin!
(COUGHING)
(WHISTLES) Gemma, good girl.
(SIEGFRIED SIGHS)
That was old Dibble wanting to know
if somebody will come out and see his wretched donkey as soon as possible.
-Not again. -Yes.
I've told him our new man Mr Buchanan will call this time.
I'll send him out as soon as he gets back.
-(CHUCKLES) Poor Calum. -Poor my foot.
If he wants to works here, he'll have to take the rough with the smooth.
Gemma out there? (WHISTLES)
(GEMMA BARKS)
(HUMMING)
I'm afraid that my colleague and I have to leave, Mr Zampolit.
And abandon the...
I mean, entrust the sheep to your care, Madam Vet.
And hope you have a very nice trip.
If you'll excuse us.
Come on, James, stop dancing, we have to get back.
Uh...
Do svidanya, Madame Pavlechenko.
-We must go. -Depart.
Depart.
(SPEAKING RUSSIAN)
We are most grateful for your cooperation.
That's recip...
Same to you.
Right. Bye.
(ALL LAUGHING)
-(RADIOGRAM PLAYING) -(PIANO PLAYING ALONG)
-Helen, what's with... -Shh.
(MUSIC CONTINUES PLAYING)
As long as it encourages Jimmy to practise, I'm all for it.
-As long as they're careful with it. -They will be, I promise.
-Coffee? -Black, please.
They did insist on giving us a lot of vodka, you know.
Calum in?
-Siegfried sent him over to Dibble's. -(LAUGHS)
Poor chap.
He's been there an hour already.
(LAUGHING)
CALUM: And indeed, Bonnie Prince Charlie
became the darling and the hero of the Scots
and soon marching southward.
As you know, he won a glorious victory
over the English troops of King George
at the battle of Prestonpans, near Edinburgh.
Do you know Edinburgh at all? A fine city.
You must go there yourself one day, Mr Dibble.