# Nine green bottles hanging on the wall
# And if one green bottle should accidentally fall
# There'll be eight green bottles hanging on the wall
# Eight green bottles hanging on the wall
# And if one green bottle should accidentally fall
-# There'll be seven green bottles... # -(TYRES SCREECH)
# Hanging on the wall... #
-Eeh, what were that? -What was what?
We've hit somebody. Didn't you feel the bump?
We've run some poor bugger over.
(DRIVER SIGHS)
Ah, it's a stag.
It come out of t'woods onto the road and just stood there.
It must have been dazzled by me headlights.
Is it dead?
Must be, I gave it a fair thump.
-What's up? -We've hit a stag.
(SIGHS)
I'd be obliged if you'd make sure the animal's dead, Mr Farnon.
I'll have to make a report, you see.
Right.
Oh, what a shame.
What a noble beast was that.
It is dead, isn't it, Mr Farnon?
I'm afraid that's not a stag any more.
From now on,
it's venison.
(EXHALES)
(BIRDS CHIRPING)
What irks me, Farnon, is the way it just vanished into thin air.
The roebuck?
-Absolutely. -Yes,
one of the chaps in the coach party
told my keeper in the pub
they'd left it in the road where it was knocked down.
-Eh! -And then it wasn't there?
No, and seeing it happened on my property,
my keeper went out to look for the carcass.
Not a trace of it.
Smuggled back into the village, no doubt.
Well, of course, you can't prove it.
Those people on the bus, who were they? Any idea?
I gather they were
some chaps who ring the bells in Darrowby Church,
been playing darts against the pub in Mickledale.
No doubt the driver had had one too many.
Good lord, pity.
Pity?
What? Yes... A pity to lose a fine buck.
They need culling anyway.
Just the principle of the thing. Smacks of poaching.
Oh, absolutely, absolutely.
You're an even bigger idiot than I thought.
And irresponsible into the bargain.
Well, how was I responsible?
I wasn't driving the flipping coach, for God's sake.
You're a qualified vet, Tristan, you work for a government department,
you're supposed to be a respected member of the community.
You should have made sure that the accident was reported.
I did what I was asked, to certify the animal was dead.
Then you went back to sleep in your seat,
up to the ears in beer and snorting like a horse.
How do you know?
Harry Cropper told me when he brought in that mangy lurcher of his this morning.
-You were sitting next to him on the coach I believe? -Yes, I was.
While you were in the land of nod,
some of your fellow campanologists
managed to stow the dead stag in the luggage compartment.
How do you know that?
Well, I'm guessing.
What I do know is that someone on that bus
spirited the carcass away, off the roadside,
poached it, in plain language,
and that is a criminal offence.
I doubt if Lord Brawton would miss one stag.
I mean, his forest is crawling with deer.
That is not the point, as you very well know!
Kindly see that it doesn't happen again.
Yes, sir. May I go now, sir?
I'm overdue at the Min of Ag and Fish, sir.
Ah yes, for God's sake, go.
-That's the cleansing done, Mr Bushell. -Aye.
While you're here, could you have a look at my Bess?
She's due in a couple of days and I'm a bit worried about her.
Yes, all right.
-All right. -(COW MOOING)
Thanks.
-She isn't very fit. -Eh?
She's a bit on the poor side.
Oh, she always were a poor doer.
She had a rough time with her first calving,
but she milked well enough after it.
That narrow pelvis could give us some problems.
First sign of any complications, you let me know, eh?
All right.
Oh, yes, I can see a nasty little sore place there.
Well, we'll get some antiseptic ointment onto that straight away.
MRS GREENLAW: Mrs Herriot?
There we are, pretty one. It's not gonna hurt now.
I'm sorry to disturb you, Mrs Herriot, only there's Mr Ponting here with the meat
and he wants to know if you'd also like to take advantage
of a nice piece of venison he's got.
Oh, I don't think we can afford that sort of luxury, Mrs Greenlaw.
Oh, he did say to mention it was very reasonable.
Yes, I'm sure he did.
Just as long as he's got the cutlets and the liver I ordered,
that will do nicely for today, thank you, Mrs Greenlaw.
(BIRDS CHIRPING)
(INAUDIBLE)
(VEHICLE APPROACHING)
(HORN HONKING)
Want a lift?
No, thanks, all the same.
I'm expecting Calum.
Are you?
He's supposed to be bringing my dogs home.
-When? -Well, I said I'd be waiting for him here at 4:30.
Well, then he's forgotten about you, hasn't he?
It looks like it.
Hop in, I'll give you a lift over to Darrowby.
But isn't it out of your way?
Yes, miles, but I'm game.
Can't leave you standing there all night.
-Go on then. -Come on, Brandy.
Come on, come on, Brandy.
-Good. -That's a good boy.
(GIRLS GIGGLE)
Where did he learn how to do that?
He just jumped on with the children one afternoon
and he loved it. Can't keep him off it now.
-You're Mr Herriot, aren't you? -That's right.
-That's my wife, Helen. -How do you do?
I brought a cat in to see Mr Farnon about a fortnight ago.
Oh yes, had a cough.
-I believe you've got several pets. -We have.
Apart from Brandy and two cats,
we've got a tortoise,
a budgie and a hamster.
Well, we must be off.
Yes, actually we ought to go too, James, it's time for homework.
Come on, Jimmy, Rosie.
-Must we? -Must we, daddy?
Yes, we must. Come on.
Come on. Come on.
You won't have any more problems with Calum at Skeldale House now.
Not now that he's found somewhere of his own to live.
We'll still get his blasted bagpipes in the back field.
Tristan, don't you like the pipes?
Oh, in their place, yes.
And I love the way you danced to them the other night.
Um, actually, I've got a favour to ask.
Of course.
I'm in need of some training in the Scottish reel.
You?
It's some scheme of Helen's.
I'd be glad to teach you, Tristan.
-Helen? -(BAGPIPES PLAYING IN THE DISTANCE)
Yes?
Oh.
That lunatic is serenading the sheep now.
He's standing in the middle of a field
playing the Flowers of the Forest.
We shall get complaints for miles around.
Yes, I can hear him. I'm afraid it's a bit my fault.
-Huh? How? -It's the church fete I've been landed with,
you know, in aid of the roof.
Don't tell me Calum's going to be one of the sideshows?
In a way, yes.
A menagerie, I suppose.
Not exactly, but I have talked him into
giving us a display of Scottish country dancing.
Highland dancing in the middle of Yorkshire?
You mean people in kilts leaping about?
Emitting bloodthirsty shrieks, yes. Should be rather fun.
We're all going to learn.
We? Who is we?
Well, me and the children, of course, and James.
Even Tristan seems quite keen, for some strange reason.
And anyone else with an ounce of Scottish blood.
God almighty.
(BAGPIPES PLAYING)
Oh, there you are, boys, oh, my darlings, have you missed me?
Were you good?
-What happened? -I owe you an apology.
-I waited an hour for you. -Deirdre, I'm sorry.
-Well, luckily, Tristan came along... -But I saw a hen harrier.
-A hen harrier? -Yes.
Up at Scawby Rise, high up in the rocks.
A magnificent sight, wheeling proud and free in the sky.
Oh, Calum, that's wonderful, a hen harrier!
I must have watched it for hours.
Oh, did you see where it came down? Where its nest might be?
Aye, aye, but I lost it. But I think it'll be up there still.
Well, I'd love to see it.
Right, well, we can ride up to Scawby Rise
while there's still enough light.
And I'll take you and the boys back afterwards.
Yes, please.
Oh, come on, boys. Come on, good boys.
Come on, come on.
Where d'you think you're going?
Well, we're going up to Scawby Rise to see a hen harrier.
Oh, thanks for the lift.
(ENGINE STARTS)
Thought you'd be here. What are you having?
No, no, I'm in the chair.
Anyway, Helen has been kind enough to invite me to stay for supper.
-Ah. -The least I can do is buy you a pint.
-A pint of mild and bitter then, please. -Right.
A pint of mild and bitter.
Thanks.
So, how was Dalling's heifer?
Oh, much better.
Tris, it's not the end of the world, you know.
Women! Fickle, blasted women.
They love to play one man off against the other, that's all.
Common knowledge. Your turn next.
-You think? -I think.
Thank you.
Hodgekin.
What the hell is he up to?
Seems to be buying something from the butcher.
Probably a bone for his lady's dog.
There we are. We shouldn't have any more trouble with her.
Thank you.
Oh-ho, Brandy.
You've been at the dustbin again.
-Afraid so. -Come on in, Mrs Westby.
The children and I usually manage to get the tins off his nose by ourselves,
but, argh, this one wouldn't budge and we didn't want to hurt him.
Ah, come on old boy,
let's have you up.
-My, he's quite a weight now, isn't he? -Yes.
Will you take a tight grip on either side of his head while I get some forceps?
We'll see if we can't...
Prise it off him...
Without hurting his nose.
I'm so sorry about this, Mr Farnon.
I'm afraid it's becoming an obsession with him, this scavenging.
(CHUCKLES)
Tell me, does he still slide backwards up onto your lap, when you're knitting?
Yes, how did you know?
I caught him at it a couple of weeks ago,
when I was out giving him his booster.
It's fascinating to watch. He thought no one was looking,
and he sort of slid his backside
halfway up the front of the chair
until his bottom was almost on your lap.
Yes, I know, and then he does a great backwards leap
and lands on my lap with his muddy paws. I could murder him.
He knows when he's onto a good thing.
The trouble is he can't resist my slacks,
ever since I had him on my knee as a puppy.
Oh, they've become somewhere he feels safe and secure, I suppose.
-Oh, wonderful. -There we are.
Now, we'll just
see if he needs a drop
of this lovely smelling stuff.
All right, Brandy.
Let's have a look.
-He's right as rain. -Oh, thank you so much.
And I promise it won't happen again.
I wouldn't put a lot of money on that.
Oh, it's quite common now. They're doing it in all the college clinics.
Caesareans on cows? You mean like us? Like women have?
And on ewes and sows.
When I think of the hours I've spent slaving away on byre floors,
sawing up cows with embryotomy wire,
working my guts out, trying to get a head round, pulling on feet.
What sort of job is it, anyway?
Oh, there's nothing to it, about an hour's work, no hard labour.
Lucky cows.
I've got some bumf on it from the ministry back at the digs.
I'd like to see that. Interesting.
It is.
(BAGPIPES PLAYING)
Listen.
Doesn't he know what time it is?
(SIGHS) At least he's not with Deirdre.
He'll probably come back into Darrowby later on
followed by several hundred rats.
Oh, I think it's lovely, especially from a distance.
Very romantic, you know.
Makes you think of Bonnie Prince Charlie, escaping on that boat.
Or the Massacre of Glencoe.
Reminds me of Glasgow railway station on a Saturday night.
Well, you might as well get used to it
and start learning to dance a reel.
It is only two weeks till bank holiday
and I must have my main display ready by Monday afternoon.
It is supposed to be the highlight of the event.
-Where are we rehearsing these savage dances? -The village hall.
I've borrowed it next week for four nights.
(BIRDS CHIRPING)
Mr Boddy?
Aye.
Your track down here is a wee bit rough for my motorcycle.
How do you manage it on a bike?
Walk. I don't use a cycle no more.
Your spaniel's coughing and choking.
Very poorly is our Prince, Mr...
Buchanan.
Well, you best come in and have a look at him.
Good morning, Mrs Boddy.
And here's the patient, eh?
So, Prince, you've got a wee bit of a cough, eh?
Come on, that's it.
Could be bronchitis.
Probably his heart.
How old is he?
MR BODDY: He were 12 last month, were Prince.
Never had a day's illness in all his life.
He were a good working dog.
-Aye? -Aye.
MRS PUMPHREY: I'm so worried about him, Mr Herriot,
he won't touch his food. He's been sick three times this morning.
He's shivering and the next moment
he goes completely cracker dog.
Are you sure you've been sticking to the diet?
Of course I'm sure.
Not slipping him the odd piece of chicken in cream sauce or a profiterole or two?
As if I would.
Overfeeding with rich things can cause hyperactivity.
But I can assure you, I would never...
What's the matter? Can you smell burning or something?
It's not burning exactly...
Tricki done his business today?
Are you suggesting that Tricki has... In here?
It might have come in on somebody's shoes.
There seems nothing on mine.
-It seems to be coming from beneath the sofa. -No...
Do you mind if I move it?
If he has done something, he can't be blamed because he's ill.
It's gone right off.
What's gone off? What is it?
It's a piece of meat, Mrs Pumphrey.
-Oh. -Venison, by the look of it.
Venison?
How on earth did Tricki get hold of that?
We haven't had venison in the house since my husband died.
If he'd been eating this, I'm surprised it's just cracker dog.
Which he obviously has.
Right, well, no more of this, Mrs Pumphrey.
All I can do is repeat the tablets
and please stick rigidly to the diet.
Oh, I will!
I'll give him something right away to settle the tummy.
(BIRDS CHIRPING)
Hodgekin?
Ah, Mr Herriot.
You trying to kill that dog?
Do not feed him venison when I've ordered a strict diet.
Venison, incidentally, that has been poached.
You do that again, I'll inform Mrs Pumphrey, who will sack you,
and the RSPCA who will prosecute.
That clear?
Bye, Hodgekin.
Come in, Mrs Westby.
Oh, my, my, he does look sorry for himself, doesn't he?
Ah, come on now, fellow.
Up with you.
(GRUNTS) Let me take your temperature.
There we are.
You'd like to lie down, I expect, wouldn't you? Come on.
Down you go, that's it.
All right.
How long has he been like this?
Oh, the past couple of days, really.
He did dive into the river last week, on a very cold day.
I tried to stop him but if he sees a stick floating, aye, he's off.
Right.
You gave him a good rubdown afterwards?
Oh, yes, I walked him straight home at once
-and then I dried him thoroughly. -Mmm-hmm.
But, um, he did shiver a bit though.
Is it very high?
I can't see it yet, I'll tell you in a minute.
It's 104.
Now let's have a listen at you.
(INDISTINCT)
Well, he's got pneumonia.
Oh, dear, that's bad, isn't it?
It's not good.
Isn't it less dangerous since the new drugs came out?
Oh, yes, sulfa drugs and now penicillin
have altered the picture a great deal for humans and some animals, but...
Not dogs?
A dog with pneumonia is still very difficult to cure.
-Oh, I see. -But
he's young and strong.
He should stand a fair chance.
-Only fair? -Uh, reasonable.
Now I'm gonna give him a shot of penicillin,
and...
I'm gonna give him another one tomorrow at your house.
Because
he'll not be well enough to come here.
And I want you to make him what we call a pneumonia jacket.
Oh, what's that?
Well, get an old piece of blanket
and cut a couple of holes in it for his forelegs
and then stitch him into it along the back.
You can use an old sweater if you like.
But the thing is he's got to have his chest warm all the time.
And only let him out into the garden for essentials.
-All right? -Yes, thank you.
(BAGPIPES PLAYING)
That's right, we're going into the reels of three now.
Aye, but remember to keep it within the set.
That's right.
Don't get your legs quite so high, Mrs Macrae.
Remember what happened the last time.
That's grand.
All right, everybody, we'll have a wee rest and a cup of tea.
(ALL CHATTERING)
Oh, yours are taking to it like ducks to water, especially Sarah.
She loves dancing, always has.
I'm sorry I had to drop out, it's just with Brandy so ill...
Mr Farnon came to see him this afternoon.
-How is he? -Oh, he's still awfully seedy, poor sweet.
Just lies there in his basket looking so pathetic.
I don't want the children to know,
so don't say anything, if you don't mind. I mean, how bad he is.
Of course not. I shan't tell mine either.
It's going to look lovely when you all get into your kilts and sporrans and things.
My lot are so looking forward to it.
And so are mine. I only hope we're up to it.
We've only got another week, and we're a bit rough, to say the least.
(CALUM CLAPPING)
Come along now, dancers.
We're going to try all of that again.
So just remember the steps I showed you the last time
and let me see plenty of energy,
lots of fire and lots of fun.
(BAGPIPES PLAYING)
That's got sugar in it for Tris.
Right.
Here you are then, Sassenach,
a nice cup of English tea to help you relax.
God, how I need that.
-James. -Thanks, Deirdre.
(TELEPHONE RINGING)
-I'll get it. -JAMES: Thanks, darling.
Well, all I can say is, if that's Scottish country dancing,
I'd rather take up all-in wrestling.
I don't know where you Scots get your energy from.
Fresh air and porridge mainly.
I expect your calf muscles are a wee bit stiff.
Stiff? I think they've seized up.
All that desk work. He's not very fit, you see.
Darling, Mr Bushell on the phone. His cow has gone into labour.
-Oh, all right, tell him I'll be out straightaway. -Sorry, love.
This is where the dedicated vet sets off into the night,
to bring yet another little calf into the wicked world.
Sorry, Deirdre, you'll have to excuse me.
-Of course. -Bye.
Goodbye.
God only knows how long this will take. Look, in case I don't get back in time,
would you ask Siegfried to look at Boddy's sheepdog first thing tomorrow.
Do you want me to make you a thermos flask of coffee to take with you?
-No, there's no time, sorry. -Bye-bye.
Bye-bye then.
(COW MOOING)
JAMES: She's very poor, Mr Bushell, she's bound to be exhausted.
Just hold the tail, Mr Bushell, would you, please?
All right, let's see what's going on in there, shall we?
Yup.
Ooh, steady, steady, steady, steady.
All right, all right, it's all right.
Wait a minute.
There's a tail.
-No legs. -Eh?
No, the legs are forward, Mr Bushell.
It's in a breeched position.
It feels like a big one, too.
-Eh? -A very large calf.
Big 'un, is it?
Yes, Mr Bushell.
And there's no room to correct it.
Can't you cut it away?
I'm afraid not. The calf's alive.
No room to work in there, you see.
Well, that's a beggar. She's a good little milker is Bess.
I don't want to send her to the butchers'.
Personally, I feel like a nice, smoochy piece of Delius, don't you?
Oh yes, lovely.
Make a change from the bagpipes and a spot of soft lighting
to go with it.
Yes?
If you say so, Tristan.
Ah, this is the life.
Is it?
(TELEPHONE RINGING)
Oh, no, don't let go. It's all right.
Helen will get it, just relax.
Darrowby-385.
Yes, darling, he's still here.
All right, I'll tell him, bye.
That was James. I'm afraid he wants you up at Bushell's farm at once.
-Me? -Yes, he says it's urgent.
-Oh, hell's bells! -Dedicated vet.
Apologies, Deirdre. Duty calls.
You'll look after her while I'm away?
It will be a pleasure.
-Bye. -Bye-bye.
I'm sorry about this, Deirdre. I don't expect he'll be very long.
As long as I get back sometime.
I don't want to outstay my welcome though.
As if you could.
Oh, I'm sorry to drag you out, Tris.
I really do need your help.
-And what's happened? -Breeched presentation, oversize foetus.
So?
So there's only one thing you can do in a case like this,
if we're to save the cow and the calf.
Caesarean section? But...
Going to operate on your cow, Mr Bushell.
Going to open her up and remove the calf surgically, caesarean.
Take it out of the side, d'you mean? Like they do with women?
-That's right. -James...
That's a rum 'un. I never knew you could do that with cows.
Well, you can now. Things have moved on a bit.
-James... -Mr Farnon is an expert.
Thank you, Siegfried. That's very kind of you. Bye.
Well, that's done anyway.
(EXHALES) I don't know what to do about you though, Deirdre.
Sorry to be landed on you like this.
No, it's no trouble to me, it's just that if you don't want to be too late home
because you've to get up for work in the morning.
I tell you what, why don't we ring Calum,
see if he'll run you into Mannerton?
Well, I don't really want to bother him.
Mind you, if worse comes to the worst,
we can give you a bed for the night.
Well, why don't we wait a while and see what happens?
Cheers.
I'll cut there.
Thanks, Tris.
Here, Tris.
Oh, it's something hard.
Is that the calf?
Oh, God, what is it?
-Is it the rumen or the uterus? -I don't know.
It's low down. It could be the uterus.
Yes, I think it must be.
All right, here goes.
(POPPING)
Oh! What a stench! What's all that muck?
Undigested grass and... Well, use your imagination, Tris.
I've cut into the rumen. You made me open up the wrong organ.
Help me get this stitched up, quick.
God, I'm sorry.
I thought you knew all about caesareans.
I do in theory.
How many times have you seen one done?
Uh, once, actually.
I couldn't see too well. I was right at the back of the class.
Couldn't see too well?
You've probably killed this wretched cow, peritonitis.
I'm sorry.
From your position at the back of the class,
I don't suppose you saw what they did next, did you?
Next? Uh, yes.
You're supposed to exteriorize the uterus.
What? King Kong couldn't lift this bloody uterus.
It's so difficult, Helen,
because I'm very fond of Tris.
Aren't we all?
He's so kind and sweet.
But?
I don't know.
There's something unknown and sort of dangerous about Calum.
Well, he's not like most men.
He seems to live a bit in of a world of his own and...
Well, more and more I'm finding that I want to share it with him.
Oh, he's fascinating to be with, out in the countryside,
his enthusiasm and his knowledge of nature and everything.
Don't you think I ought to telephone him? See if he'll take you home?
Yes, please.
Right.
Should be big enough.
Ah, yes.
Now, Tris, can you hold that?
-Got it? -Yes.
I'll get the other leg.
Now, got it?
Ease it, ease it, easy, gently,
gently now, pull.
Oh, we're never going to make it. We should never have started.
But we have started, Tris, so we'd better carry on.
Ease, ease...
Come on, come on,
-the head... -Just ease it around.
Easy, easy. Now pull.
Pull.
(BOTH STRAINING)
Pull.
Gently, gently.
It's coming.
I've got the head. Come on, come on. It's coming, easy.
There we are.
Here we are.
Thanks for the cocoa and our chat.
I hope they don't get back too late.
Oh, I expect they will. But I'm going to bed.
I shall leave them some hot coffee.
Oh, they'll have the dawn light to look forward to.
There's no better reward for a good night's work.
Thank you, Calum. I shall remember that.
-Off you go and drive carefully. -Bye-bye.
-Bye. -Night.
It's coming. It's coming, come on.
Come on, come.
One more go. Pull, it's coming.
There's your calf, Mr Bushell.
Have a look.
By gaw, he's a big 'un.
He's an absolute monster.
Quick 'un and all.
Will she be all right, my Bess?
Well, let's hope so, Mr Bushell.
Oh, I don't know.
I don't know.
God, what a mess.
I did try and warn you, James.
Almost leaving that uterus floating around inside.
It doesn't matter now. We got it right in the end, didn't we?
Didn't we?
(EXHALES)
-Ah, Calum, good morning. -Morning.
When you've finished concocting that witch's brew,
I'd be glad of a word with you.
This witch's brew is a mixture of natural juices
extracted from the plants that grow in the dales.
Did you know that in the 17th century,
the local people used this to cure their animals of congestion of the lungs?
Did they now?
Yes, and I was thinking a wee dosage of this
might help that pneumonic Labrador.
What d'you mean?
-Mrs Westby's dog? -Uh-huh.
I doubt it.
Still, anything's worth a try.
Now, what was it you wanted to speak to me about, Siegfried?
-Fleas. -Fleas?
Now I've nothing against pets, Calum. Animals of every kind are my life.
I wouldn't be a veterinary surgeon otherwise.
But I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to refrain in future
from bringing your badger into the practice.
Oh, what's Marilyn done to offend you?
She brings fleas into the surgery.
I've got them all over me this morning
and now I'm gonna have to strip off and plunge into a carbolic bath
when I should be hard at work.
Ah, but how do you know your fleas are Marilyn's fleas?
Well, I was going to suggest that we examine her.
Then, if you can, you can clear her good name.
Right. I'll go and get her.
Yes, yes,
Siegfried is going to have a wee look at you.
That's it, now, now...
You just stay there. That's right.
Better.
Uh-huh.
All right, my pretty one.
All right, my pretty.
All right, my love.
Ah-ha.
Look, there's one...
All right now, baby.
And another.
Yeah, look at them, hopping all over the place.
Filthy creatures.
Right-o. I'll put some flea powder on her and that should...
A wonderful example of shutting the stable door, Calum.
(GRUNTS)
(TELEPHONE RINGING)
Hello, Darrowby-385.
-Oh, Mrs Herriot? -Mrs Pumphrey, yes, hello.
Yes, is your husband at home?
Oh, no, he's not, I'm afraid. Can I take a message?
Well, yes, I would be so pleased if you'd tell him Tricki-Woo is so much better.
His tummy's cleared up and he's much chirpier today.
Aren't you, darling?
Oh, I'm very pleased to hear it.
I'm always so grateful to your husband.
Thank you. I'll tell him. I'm sure he'll be most relieved.
I'm having a little party to celebrate Tricki-Woo's recovery.
It's on bank holiday Monday,
and I would be so pleased if you and your husband could join us.
Bank holiday Monday?
That's awfully kind of you, Mrs Pumphrey, I'm sure we'd loved to have come,
but it's the same day of our fete at Rayne's Abbey
in aid of the church roof fund.
I'm rather involved sort of running it
and we're giving a display in the afternoon of Scottish country dancing...
Scottish country dancing? That sounds very dashing. What time does it start?
Well, two o'clock is the official opening.
That's when the mayor's coming.
But what time do you propose starting your highland fling?
-Three. -Three.
Well, you could easily lunch here and be at the fete in time for the opening.
It's only a buffet lunch.
I shall order it at 12:45, so you'll have no excuse.
No, well...
I shall expect you both at a quarter to 1:00 sharp.
Goodbye, Mrs Herriot.
Goodbye, Mrs Pumphrey.
(BAGPIPES PLAYING)
Well, it's better but you must remember to point your toes more
and please remember to turn together.
We're doing our best, sergeant major.
Sure you are. It'll be fine.
It's much better tonight.
Is your mommy coming to fetch you?
She can't this evening, Mrs Herriot.
We are going to walk home.
Because she doesn't want to leave Brandy, because he's very ill.
Mommy says we mustn't be sad if Brandy dies,
because dogs go to heaven like people
and he'll be quite happy.
Has Mr Farnon been to see your dog today?
Yes, he came this morning.
I'll have another word with Siegfried about it.
All right?
All right, you two, get your things together and I'll drop you back.
-All right. -Thank you, Mrs Herriot.
Now, I detect an air of depression and pessimism here tonight.
Are you unhappy about the dancing display?
Suffering from cold feet maybe?
No, it's James and Tristan.
They're just dreadfully worried about Mr Bushell's cow.
Oh, yes, of course.
James says that if the cow dies of peritonitis, that it's his fault.
(ROOSTER CROWING)
Morning, Mr Boddy. How is Prince?
Oh, a good measure better this morning, Mr Herriot,
not wheezing so much since he's started on t'heart pills.
Oh, that's good. I've called at a bad time, have I?
-Eh? -Well, you're going out, aren't you?
On your bicycle?
What bike is that? I ain't got no bike, not nowadays.
-No bike? -No.
Why are you're wearing cycle clips?
Oh, them are to keep out fleas.
Fleas, of course. Dog's got fleas?
They're all over the place in there, Mr Herriot.
They're on t'dog, they're on our cat,
they're in t'mattresses and bedding,
they're all over armchairs and sofa and rugs.
And even Mrs Boddy reckons she's got fleas in her hair too,
not but what she don't wash it regular.
No, no. Well, you've got a bit of a problem there, Mr Boddy.
-Can I give you a bit of advice? -Aye.
You nip down to the town hall,
you see the delousing officer and get them to come out and fumigate the place.
Not a bad idea at that, Mr Herriot.
And maybe get Mrs Boddy down to t'corporation bath house
for a good scrub down, as soon as may be.
Quite, just to make sure.
I'll come in and have a look at Prince, Mr Boddy.
Aye.
After you.
(BIRDS CHIRPING)
Hello, who are you?
Good God, Calum!
Shh, vixen about to litter.
You'll be in trouble with her if you start interfering at this delicate moment.
No, no, I caught sight of her last week.
She was limping as if she'd been caught in a snare or a trap.
She looked awful and I could see she was in whelp,
so I traced her back to this earth and I've been keeping an eye on her.
I didn't want her to lose her cubs, you see,
and she's settling in to have them now.
I've been listening and she's doing fine.
Well done, you.
I'm glad I bumped into you, Calum, anyway,
because I wanted to tell you I've given Mrs Westby's Labrador
a dose of your special potion, your magic herbal mixture.
-My witch's brew, eh? -That's right. That's right.
It can't do any harm, might do some good.
That's a very sick dog, I'm afraid. Not much more we can do.
So...
We'll just have to wait and see.
Aye.
No, thank you.
Don't worry, Mr Herriot,
I promise you'll be at the fete on time.
Yes, I'm sure we shall.
-How nice you look. Come. -Thank you.
Mr Herriot and his wife are taking part in the Scottish dancing
this afternoon at Rayne's Abbey. You're going, aren't you?
Of course we are going.
I'm giving away the prizes for the children's fancy dress.
Ah.
I understand that your colleagues are all taking part, too.
Well, not Siegfried Farnon, actually.
His brother Tristan, and Mr Buchanan because he's the expert.
The others are rather good, too.
It'll be quite a sight, I think, if we remember the steps.
It always looked so dangerous to me,
all that hopping about on sharp swords.
No, thank you.
Can you do the highland fling, Daphne?
I used to, when I was a girl, at the Caledonian Ball.
What fearful good fun that used to be.
(BOTH CHUCKLE)
Yes, no, thank you.
I must say it's quite something to give a luncheon party
to celebrate the recovery of a small Pekingese from tummy-ache.
I don't know, a fellow I used to shoot with in Norfolk
gave a full dress ball, white tie for the men and tiaras for the women
when his favourite retriever got over the distemper.
Cocker spaniel bitch called Garbo.
Marvellous gun dog, Garbo was.
You're wearing a kilt this afternoon, for the dancing?
Yes, we all are, the children, too.
Splendid.
And which tartan are you entitled to wear?
-Armstrong's my husband's clan. -Is it, by Jove?
But our new partner is a Buchanan.
Still, they haven't slit each other's throats yet.
Let's hope they don't start a bloody feud at the fete.
I say, is your husband all right?
I think so, why?
I wondered if he was a bit nervous about this afternoon.
He seems to be twitching about rather a lot.
Are you feeling the heat, Mr Herriot? We can easily open another window.
No, thank you. No, it's not the heat, it's just...
I hope it's not the prickly heat.
I used to get that out in Bombay. Maddening.
Makes you want to scratch all the time.
Yes, I'm afraid I am itching rather badly actually.
Well, I could tell you were.
It's just that I need to...
Heavens! What are you doing?
Nothing. I thought I saw something.
-What have you got there under your hand? -Nothing.
Don't ask me to move my hand. I'd really rather not.
-Why not? -Well, because it's...
Oh come, let us see.
I know, it's a conjuring trick.
A coin, heads or tails. Oh please, let us see.
No, Mrs Pumphrey.
Nonsense. Don't be such a tease, Mr Herriot. Take your hand away.
I can't.
Good lord.
Something hopped straight off the table into my wine glass.
Look, you can see it.
It's only a fly, it won't hurt you.
Fly? Good Lord, I know a fly when I see one.
It's much smaller, it's...
A flea, it's a flea actually,
off me. Sorry.
Well, how surprising.
(BIRDS CHIRPING)
How do you do?
-Over there. -Thank you, dear.
Good afternoon, Mr Mayor.
Sir, welcome in.
-All going well? -Very good.
If Mommy and Daddy don't come,
will we have to do this dance by ourselves?
We may have to try.
We'll get in an awful muddle.
You're telling me.
Look here, Calum, if they don't get here soon, we're gonna be in dead stook.
They should never have agreed to go to Mrs Pumphrey's for lunch, today of all days.
It will be all right. They'll be here soon.
Relax, Tristan. It's going to be fun.
Is it?
ANNOUNCER: May I have your attention, please, ladies and gentlemen?
The display of Scottish dancing
is about to begin in the main arena.
If you'd all like to move across there now,
the Scottish dancing will start in two minutes.
Hurry along, please, for the Scottish dancing.
That your brother there, Farnon?
Yes, I'm afraid it is,
suffering from a sudden case of Scottish ancestry.
By the look of him, I think he'd suffer more gladly from a sudden case of scotch.
Wouldn't we all?
The Scottish dancing will start now in the main arena.
(BAGPIPES PLAYING)
Ah, Mrs Pumphrey, let me hold the Chinese champion
while you go and join the Scottish dancing.
-Oh, only if you'll join with me. -No, no. I'm not going to.
-Can I put him down? -Well... Tricki?
(ALL CHEERING)
Mrs Westby and Brandy! I don't believe it.
It's true.
One perfectly healthy Labrador,
and working for a very good cause.
He started to perk up yesterday, soon after you left.
And then this morning, just after Mr Tristan came to collect the children,
he got up out of his basket,
started to walk about and wag his tail.
Oh, he's a different dog.
It must have been that herbal potion you gave him.
Or just plain mother nature working a miracle. Who knows?
Exactly. Who knows?
But I suggest we give the credit
to my assistant Calum Buchanan for his herbal potion.
It's much the more likely of the two, in my opinion.
They must be so pleased.
The children have no idea that Brandy's better.
-Brandy! -Brandy!
-Oh, Brandy. -Oh, Brandy. He's all right.
Come on, Tris, the beer is on me.
Well, wasn't that wonderful?
I've never enjoyed Scottish dancing before.
-Mr Bushell? -Mr Bushell!
(DOG BARKING)
Mr Bushell.
-No one here, Tris. -Mr Bushell!
Come on, have a look inside.
(COW MOOING)
Come on, come and look at this.
Isn't he lovely?
-May I pet him? -If you like.
Daddy and Uncle Tris cut open her tummy to help let the calf out
and then stitched her up again.