Fine heifers, Mr Hartley.
You've got a first class dairy herd in the making.
All you need is the service of a proven pedigree bull and you're in profit.
Ah, well, I've been thinking of buying a new bull,
but there's only big boys can afford the sort of beast you're on about.
Ah yes, but why buy an inferior animal
when the service of prime stock's available at little cost these days?
The bull with the bowler hat, thou means?
No, Mr Hartley, artificial insemination.
Let's treat the subject with the seriousness it deserves. Shall we?
Now surely you've had the leaflets from the ministry?
Oh, aye, they've been fluttering through my letterbox like confetti.
And you have read them?
Ah, well, I was getting around to it, but missus burnt the lot.
Right good for starting stoves on raw mornings, Mr Farnon. (LAUGHS)
(SIGHS)
(LAUGHING)
Yes, yes, I know some of you chaps think it's all a great joke.
It's no joke for the bull or heifer, is it, veterinary?
I reckon it's the real thing they'd want,
not some scientific doings carried around in bags by you fellas.
(COW MOOING)
You Scots are all the same, obsessed with bogs and heather.
Nothing worthwhile comes easy, Tristan.
How right you are. She's proving a very uphill task.
Play it simple, I thought, so I invited her to the pictures and what happens?
We end up hiking through miles of drenched, clammy moorland.
-Can't think of anything better. -I can.
So, try a new tact, I thought, trip the light romantic.
I set us up to dine at the Reniston.
I'd even tipped Albert a quid to reserve us the annex table.
Very special, complete privacy.
Well, If Deirdre's all you say she is, I'm not so sure
she'd be taken in by your lounge lizard charm.
Nah, she wasn't. She insisted it was her treat.
Do you know where we ended up?
Eating Welsh rabbit at a hangout for woolly-hatted bird-watchers.
(LAUGHS)
Yes, you do have a problem.
I think you're trying too hard.
-What we need here is a new beginning. -(CLATTERING)
And an opportunity for Deirdre to see you in your natural habitat.
-Which is? -Here, in Skeldale.
I know...
James and Helen are off to a late-night do in York next Thursday
and I'm babysitting.
Why don't you invite her over, and I'll cook dinner for us all?
You? Cook what?
The dish which has never been known to fail in such situations,
the dish of kings, Buchanan's Roast Duck!
Calum?
(DOOR CLOSES)
Who is this?
That's Hector.
Hector.
Very charming.
And what precisely is Hector doing here?
I found him up on Sennor yesterday.
He'd damaged his beak, so I thought I'd better
keep him in my room for a couple days.
Seriously out of bounds, is he not?
Well, the attic door latch is broken
and he likes to explore.
But not the surgery premises.
The clients, you understand.
No, I don't know, Marilyn's almost one of the partners to them by now.
One wild creature diverting, two possibly disturbing.
Kindly return Hector to the attic.
(WHISPERS) Aw, Hector,
you're an awfy man.
(DOOR KNOB CLICKS)
(CLANKING)
-Oh, Tristan, you're... -Oh, hello Siegfried.
Where's Calum got to?
-Have you met Hector? -Hector?
Hector's an owl. Calum is at this moment returning Hector to the attic.
Oh...
Extraordinary how one has constantly
to restate the ground rules for someone like Calum.
Oh, come off it, Siegfried, he's brilliant and you know it.
Oh, I've no complaints about him professionally.
None, but none of us is without our blind spots
and Calum's is his obsession with wild things,
they're fine in the wild, but not here, wandering about surgery.
Ah-ha!
Ah-ha, now tell me...
How is the Ministry's advisor?
Bashing my head against a brick wall of backwardness and ignorance,
but apart from that, I'm fine.
I just dropped by to ask Calum's advice on a personal matter actually.
Oh yes, to elicit aid, no doubt, in the siege
you've laid to the affections of the fair Deirdre, hmm?
You seem to be awfully well-informed about my private life, Siegfried.
Your "private life" as you term it,
is an open book, my dear Tristan.
Not less so than your...
Professional occupations.
This, I take it, is Calum's.
Did you know that the hill farms are alive with talk
about your zealous efforts on behalf of bovine fertility?
Don't worry, Siegfried, I'll soon have these jokers round to my way of thinking.
Oh, indeed.
Your price is already passing into the folklore of the Dales.
Do you know what they call you?
"The bull with the bowler hat."
Aha, James, how went it at Tom Maxwell's?
-Foul of the foot, wasn't it? -Yes, a real stinker.
-One of his best cows too. -Heifer.
-Cow. -Oh.
Siegfried, this new treatment...
M and B 693? Yes, James, I thought you might be interested.
Effective in the treatment of foul, is it?
Effective, my dear James? It's positively miraculous!
One of your new wonder drugs?
Ah, Herriot scepticism again.
Well, some of us don't always believe everything
that the drug salesmen tell us, you see.
Poor James, forever marching backwards into the future.
There we have him, James. The prophet of progress hoist by his own hypocrisy.
-What do you mean? -Each man to his own soapbox, Siegfried.
Just think about that before you mock
the advances made by artificial insemination.
It's not the principle I mock, my dear brother,
it's simply the thought of the brave new world...
Being implemented by such as you.
(DOOR CLOSES)
I tell you, James,
it takes a Farnon to tackle a job like that.
(CHUCKLES)
-Foul of the foot, eh? -Yes.
Tell me, James, how often have you treated
Fusiformis necrophorus in bovines?
-All too often, unfortunately. -Quite.
All that stinking necrotic tissue,
hooves whistling around your head while you try and smear copper sulphate
or Stockholm tar with salts onto the affected areas...
Remedies as ancient as the disease itself.
Now happily consigned to the dustbin of history,
thanks to this remarkable substance.
(PHONE RINGING)
It really works?
James, how are we ever going to get the effects of progress across
if the healer himself lacks faith in the new remedies?
Answer me that.
Oh?
Mr Dakin for you, Mr Farnon.
Wants you to take a look at Blossom when you can.
All right. Thank you, Mrs Greenlaw.
Dear, poor old Blossom,
10 to one she's cut her teats again.
-I'm surprised she's still around. -Yeah.
-How old is she? -Blossom?
Old, James.
Good boy, stay there.
A very good day to you, Mr Dakin.
-Mr Farnon. -Would you take that for me?
Oh, what a view,
what a thundering view.
And right on your very doorstep.
Aye, good for looking at, but not always sustainin'.
That's an indisputable truth.
Mmm.
-Thank you. -It's Blossom...
Uh, old girl's got her tits cut up summat chronic.
(MOOING)
Let's have a look. (EXHALES)
(MOOING CONTINUES)
(SNIFFLES)
Oh, yes...
Hello, old girl.
Oh, yup, it's the usual.
Usual trouble, I'm afraid.
(GRUNTS)
Yeah, the udder drops with age.
That's fine until she lies down.
It gets pushed to one side and then her teats get trampled on by her neighbours.
Aye, if it ain't Mabel to the right,
-then it's Buttercup to the left. -(LAUGHS)
(MOOING)
Come on, old lady...
Think it's all over with the old girl, then?
Oh, that's for you to judge, Mr Dakin,
but, uh, with an animal of her age,
you must expect problems.
All right, Blossom, old girl, shan't be long now.
She'll not give you any bother, Mr Farnon.
(LAUGHS) I must say, in all the years I've treated her,
she's never shown the slightest degree of ill temper.
That's because she knows you're here to help her.
That's a good deal more than can be said for most of our larger patients.
(LAUGHS) She's never harmed anyone, hast thou, lass?
Not since the day she were born.
Nighttime 12 year past,
when I had her out of Daisy.
(LAUGHS) It's amazing how time runs on.
Seems like it were yesterday when I carried her out of this byre
on a sack and snow coming down hard outside.
(LAUGHS)
I shouldn't like to count how many thousands of gallons of milk she's turned out since.
What about now?
(CLICKS TONGUE)
Nobbut two a day now.
But the old lass doesn't owe me a thing on that score.
But you're right...
Can't turn back clock.
Aye, old Blossom's past it, all right.
(MOOING CONTINUES)
Where exactly do you inject it then?
In the neck. That's what the string's for.
The neck? But it's her foot that wants curing.
You inject in the jugular vein,
then the bloodstream carries the drug
down to the source of infection in the foot.
Go on.
No, that's true.
(CHUCKLES) Well, something new every day now.
Would you hold her head please?
Aye.
-Come on, girl. -Thanks.
Hmm...
Right, that's it, Mr Maxwell.
-Nothing else? -No.
With any luck, in a couple of days she'll be on the mend.
Oh, I don't know, I've been farming all my life,
but you fellas do things I never dreamed of.
Progress.
Aye.
Ms McEwan and Mr Farnon,
allow me to present to you a feast
to overwhelm the senses,
Buchanan's Roast Duck!
And now, the master touch...
(GRUNTS)
20-year-old Mactaggart Islay malt.
Deirdre, would you be so kind?
-(GASPS) -(CACKLES)
-Ha! -Deirdre...
Tristan, this is your one.
This is mine.
(FORK CLATTERS)
-Didn't we forget the vegetables? -Hmm.
No vegetables necessary, Tristan.
You have everything you need in the Buchanan Roast Duck.
Mmm, it's wonderful, don't you think so, Tristan?
Oh, yes.
Even the feathers.
# Speed bonny boat
# Like the bird on the wing
# Over the sea to Skye
# Carry the lad
# That's born to be king
# Over the sea to Skye #
(CONTINUES SINGING)
A change of mood I think.
-(CONTINUES SINGING) -May I have the pleasure?
Tristan, I'm not sure I know how to.
-Just leave it to me. -(GIGGLES)
Enough of this ridiculous tea dancing.
(TURNS ON RECORD PLAYER)
Take your partners for something Scottish.
(SCOTTISH MUSIC PLAYING)
(DEIDRE CHUCKLES)
There, Tristan, you see, this is real dancing.
(BOTH LAUGHING)
(BAGPIPES PLAY)
(PHONE RINGING)
-Hello? -(HUMPHREY COBB SOBBING)
Who is this?
Humphrey Cobb.
For God's sake, come out here.
My Myrtle is dying.
Dying?
Aye...
Gaspin' and panting
like she's done for. (CONTINUES SOBBING)
Yes, all right, Mr Cobb, I'll be out there as quick as I can.
You just stay with her.
All right. I'll just have a look at her, Mr Cobb.
Thank you.
You won't let her die, Mr Herriot?
She may be a dumb animal,
but my Myrtle...
Best friend a man ever had.
And now,
now she's goin'.
-Calm down. -But, Mr Herriot...
-She is not going to die. -(PANTING)
-She's in perfect condition. -(EXHALES DEEPLY)
Pregnancy is progressing normally.
My neglect, all mine.
The whole day at Catterick races... (SNIFFLES)
With never a thought for poor Myrtle here.
JAMES: She's been tied up here all day by herself?
HUMPHREY: Nay, missus were with her.
But she loves me, does my Myrtle.
Oh, just look at her eyes. (SNIFFLES)
You can tell she's suffering. (SOBS)
Oh, yeah, she's suffering, Mr Cobb.
Aye, 'cause I left her.
No, because she's been tied up next to this stove.
-What's that? -There's nothing wrong with her.
For a pregnant bitch, she's in excellent state, excellent.
But, but look how she's panting.
Mr Cobb, you'd be panting spending hours on end next to this heat.
Come on, old thing, come on, up you come.
Up you come, good girl.
That's it.
In you get, in you get, come on,
that's it, good girl.
Now, lie down, good girl,
that's better.
Aye, but you'll give her something to take?
You know, do something?
But there's nothing wrong with...
(CLATTERING)
(JAMES EXHALES)
You give her that.
-That should do the trick. -Eh, champion.
Set the mind at rest, you have.
Now come on, you'll have one before you go...
Make up for the loss of sleep like.
All right, thanks.
James Herriot.
I suppose it'll be Jim?
Oh, if you like.
-'Umphrey. -Pardon?
'Umphrey to me friends.
Ah.
-There you are. -Thank you.
Aye.
I'm right grateful.
-Your good health, Jim. -Cheers.
Oh, yes, only the latest equipment's used
in fertility testing and artificial insemination.
Is that your actual bull with the bowler hat, then?
This is an artificial vagina, Mr Hartley.
If you give me a chance, I'll show you exactly how it works.
Get on with job, Mr Farnon.
-We haven't got all day, thou knows. -Right.
The procedure to test a bull's fertility...
Now...
Here we have one cow in season.
I'm standing by her right shoulder. Fine.
Over here, we have one keen-as-mustard bull.
Now, all parties being correctly positioned,
the bull, on the off, lunges and mounts the cow.
The vet, that's me, intervenes at the crucial moment
with the artificial vagina like so...
Like so...
Between donor and receptor.
And we have one fine sample of prime bull semen.
(COINS JANGLING)
Ah, Major Bullivant.
Hello, I'm just, uh, demonstrating.
(JANGLING)
(COINS JANGLING)
(EXHALES)
So, the semen is collected, counted and stored for future use.
Any questions?
I'll tell you for naught, Mr Farnon,
it'll take more than that knick-knack there to keep my cows happy.
You really haven't been listening to a word I've said, have you, Mr Hartley?
I got the message. What happened?
Dusty's dead, Mr Herriot, that's what's happened.
Mr Mallock.
-Aye, veterinary. -(SIGHS)
I asked Mr Mallock to wait till you'd seen her.
I'll have to do a PM.
I found her lying out like this earlier this morning...
I still can't believe it's happened.
Neither can I, Mr Maxwell.
This lump's a thrombus.
It's a clot in the vein.
What would have caused that?
Oh, it could have been a contaminated needle,
but I'm sure my needle was sterile.
It's easy to see what went wrong with her, veterinary.
It were black rot,
black rot followed by stagnation of t'lung.
I can't put that in the report, can I?
But I mean, it's easy to tell what went wrong with her,
you only have to look. Don't you?
I mean, you can see it's either stagnation of lung,
black rot, gallstone, or gastric ulcers as always does for a beast.
An embolism killed that beast, Mr Mallock.
A piece of the clot broke away and it caused heart failure.
Ah, but it were black rot that went wrong with it first.
What can I say?
Ah, well...
These things happen in farming.
I've never killed a cow before.
Well, sometimes we have to destroy animals, acts of mercy,
but to kill a valuable animal through sheer negligence...
James, you acted on the best of intentions.
Well, it's not good enough.
Does Tom Maxwell blame you?
Well, not in so many words, no.
Has he said or done anything to make you think he does?
Why should he when he can sue? He's a good man,
but he's suffered a serious financial loss and he can't afford it.
Do you think he really will sue?
Huh. It wouldn't take a legal genius to prove negligence, would it?
No, he's in a position to cause a lot of trouble for me and the practice.
I don't think he's that sort of man.
Oh, darling, he has to be that kind of man or he goes under.
Well, that's facts of life for small farmers around here.
(STUTTERING)
She's twitchin' something horrible.
It's distemper. I know its signs.
Now look, Humphrey...
-HUMPHREY: On me hands and knees, I am. -(EXHALES DEEPLY)
All right, Humphrey, but if this is another fool's errand...
(EXHALES) Oh, thanks, Jim.
-TRISTAN: Mr Sweetman? -Aye?
Tristan Farnon, you wrote to me in Darrowby about your fertility problems.
Aye, I did. (CHUCKLES)
Myra, that Mr Farnon is here.
Missus will want to hear what you have to say.
Ah...(CHUCKLES)
-The wife, Myra, Mr Farnon. -Oh...
How do you do, Mrs Sweetman?
Hello.
Well, uh, how can I help you?
We heard you help folk...
Give advice like.
I take it you've, uh, read the leaflets from the Ministry?
It were bloke in pub that told us about you.
We got talking, and he swore you'd be able to help us out.
(CHUCKLES)
Well, I'm sure we'll be able to manage something.
Um, should we perhaps speak inside?
Oh, I'd rather stay here, Mr Farnon.
I don't want me mom to hear what you have to tell us like.
As you wish. So what's the problem?
Tell him, Harold.
Oh, you're the one that wanted to see him.
Go on.
Oh, all right then.
Right, the thing is, you see,
me and the missus here
have ourselves somewhat of a problem.
Five years we've been trying to breed 'em.
Which?
How do you mean?
Cows, sheep, pigs?
I don't have nothing like that.
Ooh, we do have an old dog though.
(CHUCKLES) No, no, no, I mean what kind of animals do you farm?
We don't have a farm.
Well, doesn't this small holding belong to you?
It belongs to my mom. She's poorly just now,
so me and Harold come over from Sheffield to help her out, like.
Sheffield?
HAROLD: I work in foundry there.
Mr Sweetman, what exactly are you trying to breed?
Nippers, Mr Farnon.
Me and the missus just don't seem to be able to make a go of it.
And you're expert, aren't you?
JAMES: "Distemper," he said, "It's her leg, Jim,
-"it's twitching somewhat horrible." -(LAUGHS)
And it was just a flea-bite?
He got me out of bed to tell me that Myrtle had an itch.
Oh, it's plain to see you're treating the man and not the dog, James.
Oh, Mr Humphrey is a perfectly respectable pet owner,
but you get him near a bottle and he drowns in guilt and glutinous
sentimentality. (YAWNS)
Maybe it's time to put the foot down.
Yes, I shall, when Myrtle's had the pups,
if I don't drop dead from lack of sleep first.
There's a grand young cow, then.
Five days calving, in every way correct. Just dropped a third calf.
What will anybody give us for her?
Will anybody give me £55 anywhere?
£55 anybody?
Well, a £40 bid then.
£40 bid at 41, 2, 3.
44, 45, 46, 47...
48, 49, 49, 50, 51,
52, 3, 53, 4, 54, 5.
£55. Have you all finished at 55? Mr Maxwell.
(MOOING)
They're grand little heifers, Mr Thackery...
(MOOING CONTINUES)
And a bargain at the price,
come around you, come on.
(MOOING CONTINUES)
What have we got here?
Come on, come on.
-Nice little lot. Go on. -Good, good, come on.
-Hello, Jack. -Mr Herriot.
Rounding them all up, Jack, are you?
Always something to take in, Mr Farnon.
That's right, that's right.
(MOOING CONTINUES)
Oh no.
What's the matter?
Tom Maxwell.
SIEGFRIED: "Of all men else, I had avoided thee."
Looks as if he's bought himself a new cow.
Yeah. Probably to replace the one I lost.
Had any contact with him since then?
No, nothing, not a word.
Not even a solicitor's letter.
Tempt not providence, James.
You wouldn't be the first experienced breeder
to put your money on an also-ran.
(LAUGHS) Oh, the missionary at work among the unbelievers.
I'll be off, Siegfried, I'm due back at the surgery.
What's this then, Mr Hartley, a new purchase?
Aye, he comes from one of the big dairy boys.
He's nobbut a young 'un, but he's a keen youth.
Famous last words, Mr Hartley.
Your brother wants me to have him fertility tested, Mr Farnon.
You know that new-fangled way he's always going on about.
It's sound advice.
It's really quite a simple procedure.
The benefit's considerable.
You've done it before, have you?
Oh, yes, I'm, uh, familiar with it.
All right, If you think it best, let's have it done then.
You won't regret it, Mr Hartley.
Give him a couple of days to settle in, then he can tackle the job.
Is there anything special you want me to do?
No, just your bull, a nice attractive young cow in season
and you may safely leave the rest to us.
(DOOR KNOB CLICKS)
Your sleepless nights are over, James, Myrtle has had her pups.
-Oh, really, when? -Yes. Humphrey telephoned this morning.
Mother and the babies are doing really well.
Oh, thank God for that. Was he sober?
-Stone cold. -Oh.
-He wants me to visit, I suppose? -No, no.
"Leave it to Myrtle," Humphrey says.
-He must be sober. -(CHUCKLES)
(CLUCKING)
-All right... -Yup.
-That enough? -A touch more. Just to...
That's it.
Okay.
(MOOING)
Hear that, Mr Farnon?
Cheeky young bugger's as keen as mustard.
That's just how we want him, Mr Hartley.
That's a rum-looking thing and all.
Are you sure bull won't mind you fellas interfering with his natural rights?
Not once he's had his wicked way, Mr Hartley.
And bull won't object, you reckon?
The water's at blood temperature,
he'll think he's inside the heifer.
-Ooh, that's real cunning. -(MOOING CONTINUES)
Right, I'm going in.
Be ready when I give the word.
TRISTAN: It's the other side, actually, Siegfried.
What?
Right, Mr Hartley.
All right, Tom.
(MOOING)
(LAUGHING)
-Back, back, go back. -(LAUGHING) Ooh...
Go back, back!
(LAUGHS) By God, Mr Farnon, hell of a job, this testing business.
This is a temporary setback, that's all.
Is it always like this?
Only in exceptional cases.
Useless.
We'll have to come back again.
Oh, not to worry, not to worry,
a little bit of excitement to look forward to. (LAUGHS)
Do you know, If I'd have known it'd be this much fun,
I'd had you chaps here weeks ago. (LAUGHS)
Rosie...
Look, darling, look, if you go right, right underneath,
where you bite some root off,
it gets all loose and comes away.
HELEN: James!
Hmm?
James!
Tom Maxwell wants to see you.
-Me? -Yes.
His expensive new cow is sick
and he would very much like you to take a look at her tomorrow morning.
Really?
(BOTH CHUCKLE)
Theory is one thing, getting the job done something entirely else.
I can't honestly see where I went wrong.
Siegfried, you grabbed hold of his old man, no wonder he went for you.
How else can one ensure that the AV is properly positioned?
Only a guiding touch on the sheath is needed.
Honestly, more like the moment of truth
in a Madrid bullring than a simple fertility test.
Tyrone Power in Blood and Sand
had nothing on your performance in there.
(INHALES) All right, time you stepped into the centre of the ring.
I'll be your Bandolero.
How do you mean?
Well, since you're the undoubted expert,
you can be the matador in the next corrida.
-Me? -You.
Rather poor.
Oh, I don't know why, she's had nothing but the best of stuff to eat.
(INHALES) What could it be, do you reckon?
Well, it could be traumatic reticulitis.
I'd guess she swallowed a wire.
Still, we can't be sure until I've completed the examination.
Mmm.
What's the problem, Mr Herriot?
(CLICKS TONGUE) Pulse, respiration, temperature, normal.
I don't think it is a wire now.
I thought it were colic the way she kept kicking at her belly.
-Yes, right, yeah, might as well look. -Yeah.
In the urine, traces of blood,
and worse.
I think it's her kidneys.
Kidneys?
Oh, they're probably infected, and the bladder too.
Thanks.
Thanks, Mr Maxwell.
-Can you hold her tail please? -Yup.
Thanks. Not too tight.
(EXHALES SHARPLY)
Yes,
I think it's a condition called pyelonephritis.
Hmm? Is it serious?
Yes, Mr Maxwell, very serious.
Oh, is there aught you can give her?
Well, penicillin...
But you can't get it in injectable form, you see?
Well, that's it then.
(INSTRUMENTS CLATTERING)
What are you doing, Mr Herriot?
I think I've found a way to get this penicillin into that cow of yours, Mr Maxwell.
Can you open all the other tubes please?
That's full.
(GRUNTING)
(MOOING)
Ready when you are, veterinaries.
Right.
See you've got yourself a new doings then.
(LAUGHS)
Nothing like a bit of excitement when you're on the job.
We'll need some warm water, Mr Hartley.
It's in there.
Could you fill it for me, please?
In there, and make sure the stopper's securely tight when you put it back.
Aye, won't be long.
I think you can safely leave this to me, Siegfried.
Si, senor.
Mr Hartley!
HARTLEY: I'm coming, coming!
Right, let's have him out.
All right, Tom.
(MOOING)
All right now, bring him forward, Tom.
That's it, bring him forward.
Okay...
All right, we're there.
(BULL SCREAMS)
Hold him, Tom, hold him!
(MOOING)
(GROANING)
Mr Hartley, this water's boiling.
Well, kettle had just boiled when I went into the house.
TRISTAN: I said warm, this is scalding.
-Oh, that's why you took off without doing job? -(EXHALES)
Can you blame him?
Just hold on to him, Tom.
(CLATTERING)
Right, I'll say when.
(SCREAMS)
Now, hold him!
(PANTING)
By God, pay £1000 to see a catch like that at Headingley.
Ah, yes!
-You've got a sample? -About three ccs worth by the look of it.
Won't take a moment to check out his form.
By God, veterinary, that young brother of yours missed his vocation.
He's a man of many parts.
I've never seen aught move so quick.
I can't wait to get you fellas back again. (LAUGHS)
You have a fine fertile animal, Mr Hartley.
He'll turn out no end of top-rate calves for you.
That's grand.
I'm glad he's up to scratch.
Ole, Tristan.
I would award you both ears and the tail.
Well, thank goodness somebody in the family can do it.
-James. -Siegfried.
What's this? A plague of mastitis?
I'm using it to treat Tom Maxwell's heifer.
(CLATTERING)
-For pyelonephritis? -Correct.
But how?
Injection actually.
I see. An oil-based penicillin compound normally squeezed
into the teat canal of an udder and you are injecting it?
I've already pumped in a box of the stuff
and I need more, much more than we have in stock.
But, James, the animal may not be able to absorb penicillin in this form.
Yes, possibly.
Nor can you have any idea of the appropriate dose for a bovine.
Siegfried, after my last brilliant effort, I want this animal to live.
So much that you abandon sober remedies
and enter the realms of blind improvisation?
You're right. Maybe I don't know what I'm doing exactly,
-but penicillin, in whatever form... -Penicillin? Yes.
Must offer some hope, which is better than no hope at all.
Now, I must get back. Would you please get some more of this stuff from Mannerton?
Well, I'm due out to old Dakin's,
but tell you when I do, I'll get Tristan to take some out to Maxwell's.
-Thank you. -James!
An awfully innovative notion, don't you think?
Rather unlike me, do you mean?
Wholly.
"Practitioners should never lack faith in their new remedies,"
isn't that what you said?
(DOOR CLOSES)
(MOOING)
It's old Blossom, Mr Farnon.
Got stood on again.
Not so bad as t'other times like,
I want you to see to her just the same.
All right, let's have a look.
(MOOING)
Oh yes, that's just a scratch.
Uh, it's easily cleared up.
Ah, well...
I want her to be fit for when she goes off.
She's going, Mr Dakin?
Aye, naught else for it.
You said yourself she were past it, and you're right.
She's too old to be any good to me,
and no use to herself like this,
getting herself cut up and such.
I see.
I asked Jack Dodson to come and pick her up for market on Thursday.
(HUFFS)
She'll be a bit tough eating,
but I reckon she's good for a few steak pies or summat.
What are you gawping at, you daft old thing?
Go on, get back to your hay.
(MOOING)
I'll see you before you go, Mr Farnon.
Right you are, Mr Dakin.
-TRISTAN: James. -In here, Tris.
(CLATTERING)
Oh, there you are.
Good timing.
Looks like the aftermath of some veterinary Battle of the Somme.
Oh, just open all of those tubes, would you, Tris?
Coming right up. (EXHALES)
Siegfried told me what you're up to,
or do I mean what you're not up to,
since you haven't a clue what you're doing.
It's no mystery. I'm wicking in as much penicillin as I can, that's all.
Why is it the truly mad always sound so sane?
This cow is still alive.
True, must count for something.
-How much of this stuff do you want? -All of it.
Precise, decisive and wonderfully unscientific.
I do hope this tidal wave of unreason isn't catching.
-The tubes, Tris, please. -Right.
You finish that injection and I'll take over.
It's all right, I can manage.
You're shattered, it's time to take a break.
I'll tell you something,
it's one for the books, this little effort of yours, James.
I'd swap it for the life of this cow.
(DOOR OPENS)
-Mr Farnon. -Hello, Mrs Greenlaw.
Leave it, Mrs Greenlaw.
Right, Mr Farnon.
Calum!
Siegfried.
Interesting.
Yes, you're not consulting the Delphic oracle, Calum.
It is in fact the cast of the Tyto alba.
Your bird, should you need reminding.
Yes, look, he's showing mice remnants in his cast.
Been doing a little extracurricular dining, have we, Hector?
Had you fixed the latch on your door as I asked you...
I have.
Better late than never. Now would you kindly
keep him under control and away from surgery?
Oh, Hector is to be released back into the wild this very weekend.
Yes, excellent.
Ah.
(WHISTLING)
(SCATTING)
You all done then?
Yes, with a bit of help from Tristan.
Aye, you've been goin' at it all hard.
Do you reckon there's any chance for her?
I wouldn't like to bet on it.
Nothing more we can do, just wait and see what happens, eh?
Aye.
Right, I'll call back tomorrow.
Good night, Mr Maxwell.
-Good night. -Good night.
Anything else?
HUMPHREY: The missus says she's been acting up all day,
walking stiff when she let her out to do her business.
There is nothing wrong with Myrtle,
I have told you again and again.
-But you must come, Jim. -No, no, Humphrey, not tonight.
Tonight I intend to go to bed where I intend to go to sleep.
(SOBBING) Ooh, don't say that, Jim.
-She's really going, I mean it. -Listen, listen, Humphrey,
it's a waste of my time and your money.
She is perfectly all right.
Now I suggest you go to bed too.
We'll both be feeling a lot better after a good night's rest.
Oh, Jim...
That is the first time I've ever heard you say no.
Yes...
Well, it couldn't go on.
(SIGHS)
I'm absolutely...
Exhausted. (EXHALES)
-Oh, my God. -What is it?
Eclampsia. Helen, that dog's got eclampsia!
-But you just said... -All the right symptoms.
A nursing bitch, anxiety, stiff movements, and now trembling and prostate.
Classic symptoms of puerperal eclampsia.
-This time Myrtle really is dying. -Oh James.
Look, can you tell Calum we're leaving?
-I'll have to work fast and I need you with me. -Yes.
-Hurry up, darling, please. -(DOOR CREAKS)
-Thank God you come. -All right.
-Calcium, 10 ccs. -(INSTRUMENTS CLATTERING)
You won't let her die on me, Jim?
This calcium should do the trick,
Humphrey.
(CLATTERING CONTINUES)
You better keep the Nembutal handy, just in case.
Hmm.
-Wait, hold the vein out, would you? -Yeah.
(HISSING)
HUMPHREY: My fault.
Deserves something better than a scamp like me.
I'd love a cup of tea, Humphrey.
Always t'same when I leave.
-I think my husband would like one too. -Please, Humphrey.
But my Myrtle.
We'll take care of Myrtle.
Aye, you get on with the job.
HELEN: Mr Cobb.
(YELPING)
There you are, Humphrey.
Grand to see her back to her old self.
You know, I learned something tonight.
What's that?
What a silly beggar I am, that's what.
All these nights getting your husband out of bed.
Me imagining things, always thinking Myrtle is sick.
Actually, Humphrey, tonight...
You don't have to tell me.
(LAUGHS)
Done it again, didn't I?
Well, it's happened for the last time. (CHUCKLES)
Look at her,
any fool could see
that there never was nothing wrong with
my Myrtle tonight.
(MOOING)
Oh, that penicillin will soon have her firing
on all four cylinders again, Mr Dakin.
Aye...
MAN: Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Jack Dodson...
He's come to collect poor old Blossom for t'mart.
(MOOING CONTINUES)
Whoa out there. Go on.
Cush, cush, cush, go on!
Cush, cush, cush.
Whoa, cow, whoa.
(MOOING CONTINUES)
-Mr Farnon. -Jack.
Nicely behaved pair you've gathered in there, Jack.
Oh aye, and there's more to come.
Ready for off, is she, Mr Dakin?
Aye.
(LAUGHS)
Easy to see which one thou wants me to take.
It's that old screw over there, aye?
-Aye, that's her. -(CHUCKLES)
Let's have a look.
Come on, old lass,
it's time to go.
Come on, let's be having thee then.
Nay, don't hit her!
I never hit 'em, you know that, Mr Dakin,
I just send them on like.
I know, I know, but thou'll not need stick with this 'un.
She'll go wherever thou wants, always has done.
-Come on, then. -Come on, Bloss.
-Off you go, go on, lass. -Come on, Bloss.
Go on, come on, come on,
take thee a walk, go on.
Go on, go on.
(MOOING)
Steady, girl, steady, come on,
steady, girl, come on, go on, steady.
(MOOING CONTINUES)
Come on, Blossom old lass, come on.
-JACK: Come on, lass. -Right, Mr Farnon.
Let's get on with our job then.
(MOOING CONTINUES)
Honestly, James, I know Deirdre's a kind-hearted girl,
but the way she's been going on about that filthy dinner of his...
He's a man of unconscious charm, this Calum.
Charm! My dear James, the man's a raving eccentric.
He's practically certifiable.
I don't know how you can bear to have him in the house.
Oh, just because he stole your thunder for one night,
it's just that she was so nice to him.
I mean, he's the sort of chap who can't see through a thing like that.
-(DOOR OPENS) -James,
that was Tom Maxwell on the phone.
-He wants to see you urgently. -Did he say why?
No, just that he wants to see you straightaway.
Oh, God, I bet that cow's died.
Oh, come on. Surgery's over, I'll go with you.
I've got a vested interest, after all.
Yes, thanks, Tris. I'll see you later.
(SIGHS)
Oh, that's it for today, Mr Dakin.
-I'll be back in a couple or three days. -Shh, veterinary.
(MOOING)
Come back, have you, old lass?
(MOOING CONTINUES)
There you are, you old bugger.
Sorry, Mr Dakin, but she turned off
real cunnin' like at the end of the path like that.
That's all right, Jack, it's not your fault.
What's to do, Mr Dakin? They're waiting for me at mart, thou knows.
Well, you'll just have to go without her then, Jack.
Oh, I know you'll think I'm daft, but that's how it is.
T'old girl's come home
and she's staying home.
(PEOPLE TALKING INDISTINCTLY)
Something to show you.
Took that out of the cow not an hour ago.
It's absolutely clear.
(EXHALES SHARPLY)
My God.
-It worked. -Yes.
I couldn't be sure till you had a look at her.
You're a ruddy genius, James.
You realize he's brought that cow back from the dead, Mr Maxwell.
Oh, I know what he's done and I've been meaning to complain about it.
Ah, about Dusty.
Have I ever said anything to blame you for that?
Well, no, but I was responsible.
Not in my book, you weren't.
No, it's something else I'm talking about.
You think I've nothing better to do than follow you around these past few days?
-How do you mean? -These empty tubes.
You've been throwing them all over t'floor of barn.
Aye, leaving me to clear your damn mess.
Sorry, I didn't realize.
No, you wouldn't, you've been too busy curin' me cow.
Mmm.
I'm only having you on, lad, don't take it amiss. (LAUGHS)
I'm, I'm much obliged to you.
-He doesn't blame me at all. -It's a one off, Tom Maxwell.