All Creatures Great and Small (1978–1990): Season 1, Episode 2 - Dog Days - full transcript

Morning, Mrs Hall.
- Morning, sir.

Lovely morning.
- Cows are sitting down.

That means we'll have rain today.

Really?
- Scrambled eggs?

Pardon?
- For breakfast.

Oh, I'll eat anything.

They're my favourite, scrambled eggs.

Mr Farnon not down yet?
- Hours since.

He's gone to do that postmortem
on that horse that you shot.

Oh, that.

Yes.

You call that clean?
- I haven't done that yet.

Get a move on.
We haven't got all day.

Remember, there's lots of people
on the dole who know horses

who would jump at your soft job.

By hell...

I can't wait for Lord Halten
to get back from Scarborough.

He'll get that Herriot!
- If he were wrong.

He was wrong!

I've forgotten more about horses
than he'll ever know.

There. What did I tell thee?
Here comes rain.

Is there summat wrong with your eggs?

No, it's fine. It's just...
I don't seem very hungry.

Hello, Penelope.
How's Mrs Warburton's baby?

She's fine, thank you.
- Well done.

Come on, puppy. Come on, lad.

Morning.

Good morning, James.
Coffee still hot?

Yes, just made. Shall I...
- No, no. I can manage.

I wonder if I could I have
the sugar, please, James?

Thank you.

No, I'll have it black.

You've been over to Lord Halten's?
- Yes. All done.

How did it go?

All right. Straightforward enough.

Oh, good.

Had you sweating a bit, didn't I?
- Yes.

You can stop sweating now.

Good thing you put the poor beggar
out of his misery.

You've nothing to worry about.

Not like Soames.
- He was there?

Yes. Trying to mix you a bottle.
But I stopped that.

Asked him how Lord Halten
would feel when he found out

how long he'd kept his best hunter
suffering before calling us.

He can chew on that.
- Yes, I can imagine.

Are you ready?
- Yes.

Let's check the daybook
and see if we can't find you

a few trouble-free cases this time.

Oh, yes, I know. Handshaw's farm.
But you won't know where it is.

No.
- I'll write it down for you.

Erm... one of his cows
has had milk fever.

I've given her a few injections
but according to Handshaw,

she still won't get up.
- Right.

You get there on Bourghton Road.

Third turn to the left just
after the Cocked Hat. All right?

How does that look?
- Thanks.

Oh, do me a favour
while you're out, will you?

Yes, of course.

My brother's arriving today.
He's been at vet college.

His train's due at 12.
Could you collect him?

How will I recognise him?
- He looks rather like me, I suppose.

Except he's a fresh-faced kid
with rings under his eyes.

A bit like a debauched choirboy.

His name's Tristan, by the way.

Tristan? Really?

Father was dotty about Wagner.
- I'm partial to Wagner myself.

You weren't subjected to it
morning, noon and night

or stuck with a ridiculous name
like Siegfried.

Still... Here.

..I suppose
it could've been worse.

I could've been Wotan.
- Or Pognor.

Oh, God.
I'd forgotten about old Pognor.

Pognor Farnon.
- Sounds like a holiday resort.

Yes!

Bitch!

Bloody lazy bitch!

You got it into her today.
- Yeah, the bitch that she is.

Have you tried rubbing her tail
between two sticks?

Or setting a strange dog on her?

That usually does the trick.
A strange dog.

Good morning.
- What do you want?

Mr Handsaw?
- Handshaw.

Oh, yes, of course.

Sorry. It's his handwriting.
- I said, "What do you want?"

James Herriot.
Mr Farnon's new assistant.

Where's Mr Farnon?
- Not coming.

He asked me to look at her.
- That's all we need.

This is the lady in question, is it?

This ear's very wet.
- Well, it will be.

Water.
- Pardon?

Water. Surely you've heard of that.

If they don't get up,
pour cold water down the lughole.

Old trick of me dad's.

And he did know about stuff, me dad.

I see.

Did it have any effect?

Well, it doesn't always work.

Look, let's not muck about.
Get her tail ripped off.

How is that going to help?

Worm in the tail is what it is.

There's no such complaint as
worm in the tail. It's a myth.

Every cow I've seen has got up damn
quick when she's had her tail off.

Well, she would.

Wouldn't you?
The pain must be quite excruciating.

New at this game, are you?
- Reasonably.

Aye. And Scots, so they tell me.

Aye. That's right.

You could try
shouting down her lughole.

What?

Shouting down her lughole.
Ain't you heard of that one either?

Well, I suppose
anything's worth a try.

Help yourself.

Ah! Tha' are the vet.

Cush!

I beg your pardon?

That's what they shout at cows -
"cush".

Cush.

Cush!

Is that the best tha' can do?

Cuuuuush!

Come on!

Get in there! Come on!

Go! Go on!

Get down there!

Go on!

Rock her gently
from side to side, please.

And again.

Yes. I suspected as much.

What?

Sorry, Mr Handshaw,
but this cow has a broken pelvis.

And damaged nerve endings too,
I shouldn't wonder.

It probably happened
when she had the milk fever.

I'm afraid that's one cow
that's never going to get up again.

The best thing is to get her
to the butcher's quickly.

There must be summat you can do.

I'm afraid there isn't, Mr Handshaw.

Me dad would've done summat.
- I hardly think so.

Not with a broken pelvis.

Dad! Hey, Dad!

Dad!
- What?

Some daft bugger's
left t'top gate open.

There's cows all over the cornfield.

Tristan Farnon?
- Yes.

James Herriot.
Your brother's assistant.

Oh, hello. Thanks.

- Finished your exams?
- Yes.

- Pathology and parasitology.
- Oh, yes.

Good journey down?
- Slept for most of it.

Oh... really?

A roughish end-of-term party
last night.

Ah. Swinging the lamp
and telling the tale?

Mine was with
some girlfriends actually.

Oh. Really?

Hey, you! Herriot!
- Hello, Mr Handshaw.

Just telling you you'll not be paid
for your "professional" advice.

Oh?

"That cow'll never get up," he says.
"Get her to the butcher."

Half an hour later,
she's up trotting round.

That's impossible!
- I did go to the butcher's.

Got myself a fresh killed sheepskin.

I put it on her back
and up she gets.

What do you think of that, then, eh?

Old trick of me dad's.

Now, he knew about stock.

Mrs Hall.

Hello, Master Tristan.
- How do you do it?

What's that?
- Continue to look younger?

Get away with you and your bother.

Is my brother in?
- No. He'll be back tonight.

The old sheepskin trick, hm?

You've heard of it before?
- Oh, yes.

It works like a sort of a poultice.

Damned uncomfortable, I'd think.

But if a cow is lying there,

she will sometimes get up
just to be rid of it.

Amazing, isn't it,

how there's often a grain of sense
in these old quack remedies?

Cheery-ho.
- Good health.

It still doesn't make sense, though.

That cow had a broken pelvis.
I heard the bones creaking.

Had the cow recently calved?
- Yes.

There you are.
- What do you mean?

For some cows, the pelvic ligaments
don't tighten up for a few days

and it can give the same effect.

Oh, I see.

And it's only fair to warn you.

What's that?
- That cow will be a celebrity.

Handshaw will show her off
to every man in the district

as the cow Mr Herriot said
would never walk again.

Oh.

You're down at last, are you?

Thought I'd take a bath.
Freshen up a bit.

How are you?

Fine.
- Do you mind if I, erm...

Help yourself.

So, how did the exams go?

Not bad.
I did all right in parasitology.

And pathology?

I didn't do quite so well
in pathology. I didn't get it.

You failed pathology?

Right.
- Still, that's pretty good.

Pretty good?
- Getting parasitology.

Pathology's tough.
- It was tough.

He can sit it again at Christmas.

There is always Christmas.
- You think that's pretty good?

Well... yes.

Well, I don't think it's pretty good.
I think it's awful!

A damned disgrace!

What have you done all this term?

Boozing and chasing women?
Spending my money?!

And now you have the nerve
to tell me you failed pathology.

I've had enough this time.
I'm sick of you! Sick!

I am not going to keep working hard

to keep you there idling away
your time. Shut up!

You're sacked!
You hear me? You're sacked!

Get out! I don't want to see you
around here any more! Get out!

Parasite!

Oh, it's all right, dogs.
Calm down. Calm down.

Come in.

Oh, hello, James.

No, I won't, thanks.

I'm sorry about
the way things have worked out.

Could've been worse.
- It's bad enough, though.

What are you going to do?
- Do?

Now he's kicked you out.
Where are you going to sleep?

Here. Where else?
- He sacked you.

He's always doing that
and then forgets.

Oh, I see.

That was tricky - getting him to
swallow that bit about parasitology.

But you said
you passed in parasitology.

No, I didn't. You did.

I said I'd done all right.
- You flunked that, too?

Yes. Still, as you said yourself,
there's always Christmas, eh?

Yes.

I'll get it, Siegfried.
- No, you won't.

Hello, yes?

Oh, Mrs Pumphrey.

Tricki-Woo's gone what?

Flop-bot again. I see.

Well, I'll send someone
out to see him.

Goodbye.

Mrs Pumphrey.

Tricki-Woo's going flop-bot.
- Tricki who?

Woo.
- Flop-bot?

Are you deaf?

What?
- The blasted telephone!

I hear no telephone.
- I've just answered it!

How many times do I have to tell you
the early morning calls are your job?

Will you get out of that damned bed?

No, it's perfectly true.

She's a widow. Worth a fortune.
Her old man was a beer baron.

Had breweries all over Yorkshire
till he died.

Who's Tricki-Woo?
- Her Pekingese.

Oh! You mentioned its condition.
I've never heard of it.

Flop-bot.
- That's it.

That's one of Mrs Pumphrey's own.
- Oh?

She feeds her dog
all the wrong things.

As a result, he's overweight
and gets impacted anal glands.

Every so often,
the condition becomes acute

and he simply flops down
and refuses to go any further.

Flop-bot.

Hodgekin.

Hodgekin!

Yes, ma'am?

Leave that now and come along.

Time for Tricki-Woo's exercise,
Hodgekin.

Now, Uncle Hodgekin
will throw our rings for us

and we'll all have a lovely game.

Off we go, then, Uncle Hodgekin.

There.

Little swine.

A little further than that, Hodgekin.

Not into the rose bed, Hodgekin.

We wouldn't want Tricki
to get pricky-paw.

Who wouldn't?
- What was that?

What was that you said, Hodgekin?

Mrs Pumphrey?
- Yes.

My name's James Herriot.
From Mr Farnon's.

Yes, of course.
- Let me help you.

Thank you. Delighted.

Thank heavens you've come so quickly.

My poor darling's been in agony!
Come on.

Come along, Tricki.
Time for examination.

Fetch!

You're quite sure
he'll be all right now?

Oh, yes.
- Good.

Here you are.
- Ah.

Oh, and do help yourself to biscuits.

Thank you.

Cheers.
- Cheery-ho.

So you were trained in Scotland?

Right.

Of course, Tricki's always been
fond of the Scots.

He met an Aberdeen terrier
when he was on holiday

and they absolutely
adored one another.

Really?

And apart from flop-bot,
he's been in a very happy mood today

because of his win.
- His win?

A shilling each way
on Cannyladdy at Redcar yesterday.

He got nine shillings back.
His horses always win, you know.

The bookmaker in town loves him.

Yes, I can imagine.

Mind you, he has disappointed me
about the summer house.

Oh, yes?

Well, I had it built specially

so that we could sit out
together on warm afternoons

but he's taken
the most violent dislike to it.

Really?

Yesterday he called it
"that bloody hut".

Good grief.

Where does he pick up such language?
Perhaps from Hodgekin.

He doesn't care
what he comes out with.

He is a bit overweight, you know.

Hodgekin?
- No. Tricki-Woo.

Oh, yes, I know but, well, I mean,
what can one do?

He does get so bored with chicken.

He was telling his pen friend
only the other day.

His... pen friend?

Oh, yes, he has a pen friend.

It all started when he wrote
a letter to the Doggie Times -

sending a donation.
- Oh, yes?

He told the editor
that although he was descended

from a long line of Chinese emperors,

he decided to come down
and mingle with the ordinary dogs.

So, would the editor
please find him a pen friend?

Really?

And he got the most beautiful
letter back from the editor

saying he'd see what he could do.
Bonzo Fotheringham.

I beg your pardon?

That's his name.
- The editor?

No! His pen friend.
He's a lonely Dalmatian.

Oh, I see.

Tricki always sends him a hamper
at Christmas from Fortnum's.

Bonzo Fotheringham?
- No. The editor.

Ah!

Hasn't Siegfried surfaced yet?

Just about.
In a vile humour, I'm afraid.

Oh?

He was up late at Whitely's
place with the cows.

Seems to blame you for it.
- Me?

Leave that for a moment.

Today is market day, right?
- Right.

The bills went out on Wednesday

and everyone will be queuing up
soon to pay us.

Devote the day to collecting it.

All right?
- Take the money,

give them a receipt,
then write them in the receipt book.

Can you do it
without making a hash of it?

I think I can cope.

Then go.
The receipt book's over on the desk.

Ah...

Good morning.
- Good morning, James.

Bit of a late night, then?

You could say that.
I got to bed just before dawn.

Thanks largely to you, I might add.

Me?

One of his cows had a mild impaction.
He's tried to fix it.

Then suddenly, at 4am,
he decides to call us in.

But I haven't been
at Whitely's for weeks.

But you were there last.
That's when the damage was done.

When I said what time it was,

he said
that you said we would turn out

at any time of the day or night.

I understood that
that was our policy.

What I'm saying is that
you're spoiling these chaps.

If I didn't turn out,
I'd worry that the animal may die.

Let it die. And perhaps
they'll call us in earlier.

A dead animal does bring people
to their senses.

I'll try and remember that.
- Morning, Mrs Hall.

Oh, for me?
- It's got your name on it.

Is it your birthday?
- Not that I'm aware of, no.

Oh, ho!

Stilton, my very favourite.

A certain good lady
of this parish rang yesterday,

inquiring after
your gastronomic inclinations.

Oh?
- Said her dog wanted to know.

'Dear Uncle Herriot,

'just a token of appreciation
for services rendered.

'Yours affectionately, Tricki-Woo.

I told Bonzo Fotheringham
what gentle hands you have

'and he says that if ever
he's afflicted by flop-bot himself,

'he'll certainly be in touch.'

Now, isn't that sweet?
- Do you mind?

Who the hell's Bonzo Fotheringham?

Well, if you must know...
he's a lonely Dalmatian.

Hello, Mr Herriot.

Darling,
it's Uncle Herriot on the phone.

'Thank you very much
for the stilton.'

Oh, how nice.
Just hold on and I'll get him.

'Hello? Hello?'

Here he is. He's listening now.

Who's listening?

'Tricki-Woo. You said you wanted
to thank him for the cheese.'

Well, yes, I did.

Go on then, Uncle Herriot.
Tricki's waiting.

Hello, Tricki. Uncle Herriot here.

I just wanted to say thank you
very much for the cheese.

Well, I have to be going now,

so don't forget,
less sweet biscuits and more protein.

There's a good dog. Bye.

Mr Dean?
- Aye.

You're the vet, are you?

James Herriot, yes.
- Come in, lad.

Am I interrupting your dinner?
- Nay. I've just finished.

Bit of a tip, I'm afraid.
I'm on me own now, do you see,

since we put her
in the ground last year.

It can't be easy
on the pension these days.

It's the young'uns
I feel sorry for -

the ones with kids to bring up.

This is the patient, is it?
- Aye, he's the one.

It's all right.

He's getting on a bit, isn't he?
- Oh, aye. Nearly 14 now.

Wonderful dog for his age, though.

Been galloping about just like
a pup up to this last week.

Never bit once in his life.

Lets the kids do
whatever they want with him.

He's all I've got left now
is our Bob.

You will be able to put him
all right, won't you?

Clean off.
That isn't him, isn't that.

Hm.

There's some swelling
in the abdomen here.

Let's just see if we can
turn him over, shall we?

Come on, old boy.
- It's all right, lad.

There's a good dog.
- He's gonna make you better.

You can put him right, can't you?

You see that swelling there?

Aye.

That's caused by an internal growth.

Cancer?
- Yes.

Is there nowt you can do?

I only wish there were.

He's going to die, then.

We can't just leave him to die,
can we, Mr Dean?

He's in distress now
but he's gonna get a lot worse.

I mean, wouldn't it be kinder
simply just to put him to sleep?

He's had a good, long innings.

Have you got the stuff
you use with you?

Yes.

Then, will you do it now? Please?

It is quite painless,
you know, Mr Dean.

It's just an overdose of anaesthetic.

It's just like...
It's just like going to sleep.

Come on, old boy.

Is that it?
- Yes.

Thank you.

What do I owe you?
- That's all right.

I'll not see you get nothing.
- It's OK, honestly.

I was passing.
Would you like me to take him away?

Nay. I'll see to him.

Right, well, goodbye, Mr Dean,
and er... sorry.

Mr Herriot?

Summat I've been saving
for a rainy day.

I'd like you to have it.

Thank you, Mr Dean.

Thank you very much.
- You're very welcome, lad.

Bye, Mr Dean.

Hello.
- Oh, it's you.

- Waiting for Siegfried?
- - No. I'm waiting for a train

Oh, that's very good.
Would you like a drink?

I've had a drink.
- Have another one.

Good Lord, man.
- Does he know you're here?

I should think so. He brought me.

Ah.

Phew, hot.
- What?

The weather.
- Oh.

I shouldn't be surprised
if there wasn't a drought.

Shouldn't you?
- No, I really shouldn't. Not at all.

Hello, James.
- Hello.

Sorry to keep you, Diana.
I'm sure James has entertained you.

It's been riveting.
- Ah, good.

Now, I wanted a word with James.
Would you wait in the car?

Oh, very well.
- Bye!

Er...

James, you're on call
this evening, aren't you?

Yes.
- Well, I shouldn't be late.

There was one thing which came up.

Old Sumner rang.
He said he phoned the other night

and you refused to turn out
because it was late.

Yes.
- Not like you, that.

He's a good client.
Wouldn't want to lose him.

It was only a chronic mastitis.

It was safe
to leave it till daylight.

My dear James...
- Hm?

..the fundamental rule
of our job -

day or night, rain or shine,
if asked to attend, we must.

The animal might die.

Would that be so bad?
- What?

Remember what you said -

nothing like a dead animal
to bring them to their senses.

I said?
- Yes.

What absolute nonsense!
- You...

Enough! From now on, write it
in letters of fire across your soul -

if asked to attend, I must attend.
I must attend.

Come on.
- Where are we going?

You'll see.
- Just a minute.

Come on!

What are you doing?

'Hello, yes?'

Is that Farnon's?
I want to speak to Mr Farnon, please.

I'm afraid he isn't in. Can I help?

'I'd rather have your boss
but tha' will have to do.

'This is Simms here.'
- Yes.

Tha' knows my place, does tha'?

The one
with the nine different gates?

Aye. And make sure tha' closes
them all after tha' this time.

'What exactly is the trouble?'
- I'll tell thee what the trouble is.

I've got this great big horse
and daft bugger's cut himself.

I see. Where has he cut himself?

'On his hind leg.
I want him stitched straightaway.'

And how big is the wound?

Oh, about a foot and a half long
and bleeding like hell.

'When you're stitching,
be careful. He can kick.

'Blacksmith's scared of him.'

If you can have a few chaps standing
by in case we have to throw him.

You'll never throw this fella.
He'll kill you first.

'Any road, I don't know any
this time of night.

'You'll have to manage on your own.'

I see. Well, I'll get there
as quickly as I can.

'You've heard about t'road?'
- Road?

The road up to my place.
Got washed away in them floods.

You'll have to walk
last mile and a half on foot.

Get a move on, will you?
I don't want to wait.

I'm not sure I like your tone,
Mr Simms.

'Oh, tha' doesn't like my tone!'

Well, what I don't like
is useless young apprentices

buggering about with me stock!

Tha' knows nowt about damn job!

'You can't talk to me like that!
Who the hell do you think you are?'

If it wasn't for that poor animal,
I wouldn't come out at all, Mr Simms!

Are you there, Mr Simms?

You know,
you really should take it easy

or you'll burst a blood vessel.

Tristan?

Tristan, is that you?

One of these...

'Tristan, have you got
someone there with you?

'Now, you listen to me -

'one of these days,
I'm going to murder you!'

I'll probably kill him!

What?

If he's found strangled,
put me down as prime suspect.

Who's that?
- Your batty brother.

Oh, him! He's just a boy, James.
Full of youthful, high spirits.

You really must learn to take
these things in your stride.

Really?

Professional men worry
themselves to death. And why?

Because they allow themselves

to get all steamed up
over little piffling things.

Ask yourself, James, is it worth it?

It'll all be the same
in a hundred years' time.

Thank you.
- Any messages?

Just the one.
- Ah-ha.

Ned Holt wanted you.
- Oh, dear old Ned.

Probably my very favourite customer.

I've looked after his herd for years.

Do you know
how much I've charged him?

No.
- Not one red cent.

Far too nice a fella.

About the cow, was it?

Yes. He told me she was fine now.

Yes, I thought
she probably would be.

I'd have said current tympany,
you know.

Nothing seemed to work
and then suddenly it struck me.

Oh, yes?

Actinobacillosis of the reticulum.
- Ah.

So I shot some sodium iodide
into her and there you are.

She's all right now?

Yes. Though he thought
she would be by tonight.

He said he gave her half a pound
of Epsom salts in a bran mash.

Said what?
- Half a pound of Epsom salts

in a bran mash.

The bugger! I'll strangle him!

Yes, I thought you might.

Hurry up, get me 203.

Still, Siegfried, like you said,
no point getting into a state.

It'll all still be here in 100 years.

I want to speak to Ned Holt.

Well, get the bugger out of bed!

Something terrible's happened.

You've been sacked? No.
You're just trying to cheer me up.

It's not funny. I've lost it.
I can't find it anywhere.

What?
- The receipt book.

The one I listed the bills in.

Without it,
I have no idea who's paid.

It must be somewhere.
- No, it's gone.

Oh, dear.

It's no joke.
Do you know what this means?

Yes. That Siegfried will murder you
instead of me having to.

Everyone who paid their bills
will get them again next month.

Then there'll be hell to pay.

There's a job going
on the Leeward Islands.

Help me look for it.
- I can't.

I'm going to see Tricki-Woo.
He's gone cracker-dog.

According to Mrs Pumphrey.
- What's cracker-dog?

I can't wait to find out.

That sounds like Siegfried now.

Break it to him gently
about the receipt book.

Morning, Siegfried.

Morning, James.
Hello, little brother.

Now, then...
- Siegfried,

you won't believe this
but the damnedest thing's happened.

That should do because...
on the 24th...

Have you got one for the 24th?

Mean anything to you?
- No.

Would you like one?
- Hm?

Oh, yes. Thank you.

Tricki-Woo?

Yes.

I hope you remember to thank him.
- Yes, I'll give Mrs Pumphrey a ring.

My last assistant did even
better than you out of that dog.

Oh?
- Oh, yes.

Boxes of kippers arrived
when Tricki went to the seaside.

Hampers from Fortnum's at Christmas.

But then, he was rather
better organised than you.

Oh?

He'd never telephone
to say thank you.

He used to write
to the dog personally.

Really?
- Yeah.

Amazing the lengths
to which some people will go.

Isn't it, though?

Are you all right?
- Shattered.

Like I've been run over
by a steamroller.

It's one of the hardest jobs
in country practice -

putting a cow's calf bed
back into her.

Like trying to thread
a needle with a sausage.

You can say that again.

You know, I'm sure this
sort of thing isn't good for me.

It's a great feeling.
- What?

That blissful moment
when the thing slips back inside

and you know
you've finally managed it.

I see nothing remotely poetic
in watching a cow's engorged uterus

disappearing into her.

You know why he sent me
on this job with you?

Revenge for losing
that bloody receipt book.

Oh, well. It's all over now.

Let's just hope
it doesn't come out again.

Is there is a chance it might?
- Oh, yes. Happens quite often.

But I'm on duty this afternoon -
on my own.

Oh, well. We'll just have to
keep our fingers crossed.

What's his name?
- Bob.

Oh, I see.

Well, when old Bob went,
I vowed I'd never have another.

But then when they brought him
round to me, I...

They couldn't afford
to keep 'em all.

If I hadn't, I reckon we'd have
found him at t'bottom of river,

like the rest of the litter.
- Well, I'm glad.

You're right fond of animals,
aren't you?

It's my job.
- It doesn't always follow.

Well, thanks for the tea, Mr Dean.

Thanks for calling to see me.
Any time.

Right.

Oh, Mr Herriot.
- Hm?

Have you smoked that cigar yet?

Saving it.
- Just like I did.

Hello, yes?

That Farnon's?
- 'Yes.'

Are you that young fella has put
our cow's calf bed back this morning?

'That's right.'
- Oh.

Well, I've got
some very bad news for you.

Oh, really?
- 'Aye.'

It's all come out?
- 'Aye. It has.'

Oh, no.
Surely, it's not all come out.

OK. Scissors, please, Tris.

Aye, I've got him.

I'll get even with you,
just watch it.

Mrs Pumphrey, hello.

Hello.

Good morning, Mrs Pumphrey.

Tricki-Woo asked me to call in
to thank you for your letter.

Not at all.
Thank you for the cigars.

Just one thing.
Next time you write to him...

Well, you know you addressed
your letter to Mr Tricki?

Yes.

Well, I'm afraid he does
insist on Tricki-Woo Esquire.

Ah.
- At first he was terribly affronted

but when he saw it was from you,
he soon recovered his temper.

Oh, good.
- Why does he have these prejudices?

Do you think
it's because he's an only dog?

Well, yes.
I suppose that could well be it.

Yes. I was...

Oh, well. Goodbye for now.

Goodbye, Mrs Pumphrey.
- Bye, Mrs Pumphrey.