All Creatures Great and Small (1978–1990): Season 3, Episode 12 - Matters of Life and Death - full transcript

Hello, James.
- Hello, Paul.

Let me get you a drink.
- Oh, thanks, a pint, please.

Splendid. Could I trouble you, moira?

Hello, Theo. Hello.

That's a good dog. How are you?

Good dog, aren't you?

Oh, thank you. Thanks very much.

Cheers, Paul.
- Good luck, old sport.

Mmm. One thing, I think
he's been looking...

A bit thin lately.
- Theo?

Do you think he's got worms?
- It's always possible, yes.

Here, Theo, come up.

There we are-- oh!

It's all right. It's all right.

You're right. He has lost some weight.

Have you noticed him passing any worms?

No, I haven't, actually.
- No sort of white circles
around the rear?

No, but... then I haven't
looked all that closely.

I'll worm him anyway, just in case.

I'll bring some tablets
in tomorrow night.

You will be here?
- I think that's highly probable.

Well, well! That's really rather nice.

"Lieutenant colonel r.W.
Royston, d.S.O.M.C.

And the officers of the Duke
of York's dragoon guards,

request the pleasure of Mr.
siegfried farnon's company

at a guest night on Friday
the eighth..."

Hmm, unexpected too. I've only bumped
into him a couple of times.

You've obviously made
a strong impression.
- I suppose so.

I've got one too.

Have you?
- Why not?

I, too, have my contacts.

Not that chinless wonder

I saw you with the other day
outside the drovers arms?

Bertie can't help his appearance.

It's simply due to upper-class
inbreeding.

Quite a decent bloke. Said
he was going to ask me.

That rather takes the gilt
off the gingerbread.

However, if you're bent on going,

at least I shall be there
to see you behave yourself.
- Oh, thank you.

And talking of the upper
classes, James...

Were we?
- I think it's time you
spread your wings.

in itself an achievement, but now
the moment has come for you

to experience a more
rarified atmosphere.

I haven't the faintest idea
what you're talking about.

The aristocracy, James. Now,
I've regarded them,

rather selfishly, perhaps,
as my particular preserve,

but this morning I'm
sending you on a job

I'd usually keep for myself.

Oh? What's that?
- Tuberculin testing.

Oh, splendid! Thank you!
- With a difference.

William George Henry Augustus,

11th marquis of hulton,

will be awaiting you at half past 9:00.

Hey, whoa.
- Whoa, whoa!

Excuse me.
- Yes?

Can you tell me where
I'd find lord hulton?

I can, as a matter of fact.
What do you want?

I'm here for the tuberculin testing.

Oh, my dear chap, I am so sorry.

You must be herriot. Farnon did ring me.

On second thoughts, I
wouldn't advise that.

But I'm hulton. Delighted to meet you.

Heard a lot about you from
our mutual friend.

Well, we're almost ready for you,
but not quite, I'm afraid.

I know I told him 9:30.
- That's all right.

Blasted cattle. Must be psychic.

They seemed to know you were
coming, went careening off.

Please don't worry about it.

Good of you to say so. Come
have a look at this.

Hyah!

Whoa, whoa!

Hey!

Bit of a fiasco last time
farnon was here,

I don't want a repetition,
so I rigged up this crush.

We drive the cattle in
here, and we got 'em.

Not a bad ways, eh?
- No, it's excellent.

Oh, damn it! What are Charlie
and the lads up to?

It's all right, sir. They're
bringing them in now.

I hate to keep you chaps waiting.
A vet's work is never done.

Break of day, set of sun. Half
of night too, I imagine.

It can be like that, but there's
no rush this morning.

Glad to hear. Can you post yourself
this side of the crush?

I'll go give the lads a helping hand.
- Right.

Bring them on.

Don't let 'em break.

That's right.

Right. Give us the book, herriot.

Yes, thanks.

Charlie! Send the first one in!

Hyah! Hyah!

Stop them! Stop them!

Don't let them get away!

Say, didn't work terribly well, did it?

Well, never mind, old chap. We'll
soon have it fixed again.

You can take it from me, Mr. bainbridge.

That last sirloin was nothing
to write home about.

No, I'm not saying it were bad.

I am saying it could have been better

at the price we pay.

Aye.

Well, that's why I'm giving
you fair warning.

This next order has to be perfect.

Aye.

Aye.

And mind you have it ready
when I come in.

Goodbye.

Oh! Vultures!

I sometimes think they don't
know their topside

from their scrag end.

Are we in for one of your
treats, Mrs. hall?

There's some of us as might be
and some of us might not.

What's that supposed to mean?
- Be patient, you'll find out.

Now if you'll excuse me,
I'm busier than some.

"H-39."

H-39. Right.

Herriot, dear boy, capital
morning's work.

Oh, good. Thank you.

I say, look at that.

Charlie, how'd that happen?

She were the first one through
when t'crush busted, my lord.

It's naught but a scratch from a nail.

What do you think, herriot?

No, Charlie's right, sir. It's
just a superficial scratch.

She won't come to any harm.

Good. Still, I don't want
to take any chances.

We ought to put something on it.

We'll need some of that stuff--
what's it called?

It's the stuff very good for
cut teats and things.

Pro... pory... what
the hell's it called?
- Propamidine.

Have you got any, old chap?
- Afraid I haven't, no.

There's plenty at the surgery.
- I'll call by after lunch.

Charlie, keep this one on
its own for the moment.

Put her inside. You and the
lads did a grand job.

Thank you, my lord.
- There's a barrel of beer
in the kitchen yard

when you've finished that.
- Thank you very much, my lord.

I could do with a drink myself.
Got time for one?

I'd love one, but I should
be getting back now.

My fault. I ought to be able to
build a solid crush by now.

Mark you, that new gate made a
difference when we fixed it.

Bless my soul.

We've got a visitor, herriot.

What a perfectly splendid-looking
creature!

What on earth's he doing here?

I can hazard a guess.

I certainly know where he's come from.

Army saddle, army headdress...

Cavalry barracks.

One officer's charger minus one officer.

Now what have you done with him, boy?

More to the point... what's
he done to you, eh?

Look at that, sir. And there's
blood on the flanks...

By jove, so it is.

Who the devil would use spurs

on a horse like that these days?

Someone who ought to have them

used on himself, by the look of it.

Could you walk him a few paces, please?

Right-- whoa. Steady, boy.

Thank you.

That's fine, sir. Thank you.

Whoa, it's all right.

Well, it's not broken.
Nasty injury, though.

What can you do, herriot?

Well, not much at this moment, sir.

It'll take a lot of time and a lot of
stitches to make a good job of it.

Can you put him up here
for the time being?

Of course I can.
- Good. Thanks.

I'll do some first aid now and get siegfried
to have a look this afternoon.

Aye. Come on, old boy.

Come on, there's a good boy.
Oh oh, careful, come on.

You looking for a horse?

Yes, sir, I am.

Lord hulton's got him down there.

Is he all right, sir?

No, he certainly is not!

What happened?

We was out for morning exercise.

Number 90 is a good horse, sir.

There's nothing wrong with him,

except for a bit of high spirits.

But Mr. digby-- that's the officer--

he's a good rider with a bad temper,

if you follow my meaning, sir.

He doesn't like to be bested.

Go on.

I give him his due. He was winning.

Until they tangled with the wire.

I'd like to give your Mr.
digby a piece of my mind.

You wouldn't find it easy, sir.

He's on his way to hospital

with a busted leg and a... concussion.

I'm delighted to hear it.

Is he really bad, sir?

Bad enough.

What's your name?

Trooper raven, sir.

Well, trooper raven, my name's
herriot. I'm a vet.

Number 90 can't possibly be moved,

and lord hulton is telephoning

your commanding officer to tell him so.

There's nothing you can
usefully do here.

I'd get back to barracks if I were you.

Thank you, sir.

I'm fond of old 90.

I look after him, you see.

Will he get better, sir?

Well, give us a chance.

We'll do our best.

Thank you.

Morning.

Better late than never.
Was it a thick night?

No, nothing like that. We
both slept like logs.

Unfortunately, we slept
through the alarm.

Where's Helen?

She's making herself look
beautiful for you.

We're not the only ones.
Where's siegfried?

He didn't oversleep. Up with the lark

and off in a cloud of dust
to hulton's place.

Oh, what's wrong?

Nothing really, just a physician's
concern for his patient

and a good excuse to take
the morning off.

He's left a note for you.
- Yes.

"Pilling's calves-- most urgent."

Didn't happen to say which
Mr. pilling, did he?

I only know that loudmouth brute
who comes into the pub.

What, the one with the super keeshond?

I didn't know he had any calves.

Still, at least I know where he lives.

Thou knows damn well I keeps
no bloody calves!

I didn't think you had, but I got this
message. Just a simple mistake.

Like hell it is!
- Good lord, is that your keeshond?

What about him?
- He's got a skin condition,
Mr. pilling.

Can I have a look?

Oh, so that's it!

News travels brisk in darrowby.

My jimbo has a touch of eczema,

and here you are at my doorstep
touting for business!

Times must be hard, Mr. herriot!

No, you can't have a look!
He's a valuable animal,

and I'm taking him to somebody who
knows something about dogs--

denby broom at brawton!

Now out of my way or
I'll be missing bus!

Come on, jimbo.

All right, all right,
all right, all right.

Hello, darrowby 85.

Oh, James.

What, pilling's?

Who said anything about pilling?

James, billings!

I wrote it very carefully.

Well, of course I didn't
put the address.

Everybody knows there's
only one billings--

long end farm.

Well, get there as quickly as you can.

He's an excellent chap, only
he sounded anxious.

All right. Bye.

I don't know...

I'm awfully sorry about the delay

getting here, Mr. billings.

It wouldn't have made no difference.

They've been dead an hour ago.

When did you first notice
anything was wrong?

Coats were a bit starey
yesterday morning,

and they didn't take the
grub in the evening,

but it was only this morning
that they took really bad.

That's when I phoned Mr. farnon.

What the hell is it, Mr. herriot?

I wish I knew.

From what you've described,
I'm inclined to think

they've eaten some irritant--
a corrosive poison.

It's not possible. They're
just month-old babes.

They've never been outside of here.

My lads keep this place
as clean as a new pin.

You won't find old tins of paint or sheep
dip lying around, like some places.

No, I know,

and you feed every calf yourself?

I do that. It's what I've always said.

Feeding calves is the most important
thing in stock rearing.

Get them through the first five weeks,
and you're halfway there.

Nothing like this has ever
bothered us before.

What's to do then, eh?

I'll take these two for postmortem,

and then send the kidneys to the
labs for lead estimation.

We may find something. But watch
the others, Mr. billings.

The slightest sign of a starey coat,

I want to know immediately.

I'll do that. Thank you.

You're a brick, Helen. I should've
married you myself.

You were too slow off the mark.

Story of my life. How's it going?

It's not exactly invisible mending.

It's only a small burn. I don't
think you'll notice.

Hello.

Hello.
- What have we here?

Helen's just looking over my
dinner jacket and things.

I don't want to let the
side down tonight.
- Tonight?

Oh, yes, our military engagement!

When did you last wear this?

New year's Eve party, I think. Why?

Lipstick on the lapel. Tsk-tsk.

Signs of something less
attractive lower down.

I suppose it never occurred
to you to let the cleaners

have this garment after you'd used it?

By the time I've sponged and pressed it,

Tristan will look like a king.

I'm sure he will, but he shouldn't...

Take your good nature for granted.

Great scot. What's this?

What do you think it is? It's a bow tie.

It's a made-up bow tie--

any fool can see that. They're
jolly useful things.

Worn by waiters in seedy,
Italian restaurants.

No brother of mine will be seen
dead in such an article.

Is that absolutely clear?

I don't know what you're talking about.

You've seen me in it plenty
of times before.

I was happily unaware of
the fact. Never again!

In sartorial matters, you
will be guided by me.

Siegfried, that's my property!

That was your property.

Here is a florin.

No, I see it's half a crown.

You will go straight out

and buy yourself a double-ended,

silk, evening dress tie.

But I don't know how to
tie the beastly things.

You'll find instructions in the package.

You can practice, and if all else fails,

I, myself, will instruct you
in this minor art form.

Have I said something amusing?

Don't ever change, will you, siegfried?

Stay as you are always.

Excuse me, Helen.

Oh!
- Sorry, James.

Hello, darling.

You don't look too happy.

No, I'm not.

Those two calves--
- Tristan!

Billings' calves...

You told me the postmortem showed

nonspecific gastroenteritis?

I've just had the lab
tests on the kidneys.

And?
- Negative.

Yes, I see. That is serious.

Still, no more cases, are there?

No--

James, it's Mr. billings-- another calf.

Dear lord, I shouldn't have spoken.
- Sorry, darling.

All right. Tell him I'll
come out straightaway.

James, I know it's your case, old chap,

and two heads aren't necessarily
better than one,

but...

When I see that anxious frown...

If you feel you could use
another opinion...

Yes, I could, siegfried, thanks.

Thank you.
- All right.

See you later.

Lungs are clean.

Her temperature's normal, but there's
a great deal of abdominal pain.

Nobody can have more respect than I have

for the way you and your
sons run this farm.

Both Mr. herriot and I agree

there's nothing in these pens--

or at least nothing obvious--

that could be causing the trouble.

But I'm 100% with my partner.

As sure as God made little green apples,

that calf is suffering

from some kind of irritant poison.

Nay, it's not possible, Mr. farnon.

What do you feed them on?

Milk and a few nuts.

I always make sure the buckets
are scoured clean.

Yes, I'm sure you do.

What nuts?
- They're out here.

These.

Where'd you get them from?

Local mill.

They're rider's best.

You can't fault them, surely.

First class. Absolutely first class.

What you giving him, James?

Magnesium and calcium.
- Uh-huh.

He'll need another in the morning.

We've got a mystery here,
and I like mysteries--

if we get to the bottom
of it in the end.

Yeah.

Happen, they'll be all
dead before you do.

Now then...

Here you are, my dear.

Thank you.

James.
- What? Oh.

Oh, splendid.

That's rather a hefty one, isn't it?

It was prompted by a slight
feeling of guilt

at leaving you and Helen all alone here,

while Tristan and I go off to dine
and guzzle at the army's expense.

Oh, no.

Your idea, brother.

That was not my idea.

They are simple instructions
with simple diagrams!

There's nothing simple about them

when you're doing them back-to-front
in the looking-glass.

Come here, come here. Back towards me.

See, it's perfectly...

The pudding will be ready
in an hour, Mrs. herriot.

Thank you.
- I'm just off to my sister's.

There you are, there's nothing to it.

Hello, Mrs. hall.

Is that one of my bottles?

As you and Mr. Tristan
were off gallivanting,

I took the liberty.

Absolutely right. May I see?

But it's the haut-brion '28.
- Aye, Mr. farnon.

You always said it were the best.

For very special occasions.

So this is.

Mr. and Mrs. herriot on
their own for once.

Yes, I quite appreciate that,

but it's hardly the right accompaniment

for sardines on toast or whatever.

Who said anything about
sardines on toast?

No, they didn't, did they?

Did you say something about
pudding, Mrs. hall?

I did.
- Not one of your steak
and kidney puddings?

Aye, Mr. farnon.

Helen, did you know about this?

Mrs. hall suggested it,

and as James and I love
it, we thought...

But Mrs. hall's steak
and kidney puddings

are rare splendors, highlights
of the year

I'd not dream of foregoing,
and now I have no choice.

I won't accuse you of deliberate
cruelty, Mrs. hall,

but any pleasures the evening
might've had in store for me

are now woefully curtailed.

Well...

Things being as they are, I can
only applaud your choice.

It would've been mine.

James, uncork it with care...

And let it breathe.

And decant it, I beg you...

Over a candle flame.

It will most perfectly complement

the pudding.

What an absolutely blissful evening.

I can still hardly move, darling.

Poor old siegfried really
did miss out, didn't he?

I love them dearly, but it wouldn't have

been the same if they'd been here.

No.

Anyway, I'm sure they're past

the point of no regrets by now.

We really are gonna have a couple

of very sore heads to
cope with tomorrow.

Oh, never mind tomorrow!

We've still got now.

That's true.

That's very true. Why don't we...

Why don't we improve the shining hour?

How?
- I thought perhaps we could...

You clever old dog.

Oh.

Thank you, darling.

Darrowby 8--

yes, herriot speaking.

Oh, hello, sir.

No, that's all right. What--

oh, I see.

Yes, yes, I see.

A great, long red thing hanging
from her bottom.

Well, I can guess.

No, sir. It's not good at all.

Well, I'll come right over.

Please don't worry. It's
perfectly all right.

That's what we're here for.

All right, sir. Goodbye.

Who was that, darling?

Lord hulton's got a prolapsed uterus.

Well, one of his sows has.

Oh, my poor darling.

You can say that again.

I only ever handled three
of them before.

All ended up as pork pies.

I've been sitting here,

watching her have 12
nice little piglets,

I was waiting for the 13th,

and that horrible thing popped out.

It gave me a nasty turn.

I'm about to tell you,
this is very serious.

I'll do what I can, of course,

but, chances are, she'll
have to be slaughtered.

That's unfortunate. She's
one of my best.

I'm very attached to the old lady.

I will do my best. I really will.

There's always a chance.

Oh, good man.

Disgrace! Absolute damned disgrace!

Prep school stuff!

Don't come in here!

But, siegfried, it wasn't my fault.

I'm not interested in whose fault it is!

We'll discuss that in the morning.

Now, please, go to the kitchen

and take off those repellent rags!

They're going to be of no earthly
use to you ever again.

This is my house. I will not
have you scattering feathers

in every direction, putting
Mrs. hall in a bad humor

for the rest of the week.

Will you please do as I say?

Go to the kitchen and put--

all that in the dustbin.

No, no, wait. On second thought...

Don't put it in the dustbin.

Don't come in here.

We might need that as evidence.

Absolutely brand new dress tie.

Off you go!

You're nearly all in, dear chap.

Nobody could possibly have done more.

Lucy, poor old girl, it's
a wretched business,

but Mr. herriot's done everything
he can, I promise you.

I think it's going in.

It can't be!

It is.

It really is!

Splendid fella! Are you sure?

Well, as s--

sure as I can be.

It's in.

Oh, splendid fellow, are you sure?

It's a bloody miracle!

Oh, stout fellow! That's splendid!

Wonderful!

Needle and thread.
- Needle and thread?

On my bag.

There we are.

And scissors.

Right. Scissors.

Scissors now, please!

Here, here.

No.

That's your pipe.

Oh! Here. Here you are.

Aha.

Ah, herriot. You look like a new man.

Did the bath help?

Marvelous, thank you. What's all this?

It's a nice morning. I thought we'd
have breakfast in the barn.

Be near Lucy if she calls us.

You can serve breakfast when
you're ready, Fairchild.

Very good, my lord.
- A memorable night.

You did something you didn't
think was possible.

Ah, that obvious was it?

You didn't give up. I shall
always remember that.

It was your achievement. Believe you me,

I share your joy in it.

Only one thing worries me now--

what's that?
- Those stitches in her vulva.

Just a precaution. You can Nick
'em out in a couple of days.

Yeah, but she'll have a wound.

Don't want the old lady
to have a sore bottom.

It crossed my mind, we might
use some of that stuff--

pro-- per... it's no use. What is it?

Propamidine?

Yes. It worked miracles
with those spur wounds.

Spur wounds? Yes, of
course. The charger.

Well, how is he?

Superb. Got him out of the sling,
standing on all four feet.

We'll soon have the stitches
out. I think farnon must be

one of the best horse doctors
in the business.

Yes, I think he is.

I'll tell you something.

I love all animals, but
I love horses best.

I was brought up with them.
Noble creatures.

The trouble is, I've taken
a fancy to that one.

There's good blood there. Splendid
quarters, shoulders...

Wish I could keep him.

Well, isn't that possible?

Ah, it's difficult. War
department property.

Breakfast at last. Would
you like to start

with a kipper?
- Oh, yes, please.

I recommend the set.
Came from loch fenn.

Got a box off the train yesterday.

Thank you, Fairchild.

Give Mr. herriot some coffee, will you?

Thanks.

As far as I can make out,

it's a practical joke practiced
on unpopular brother officers.

You take two thunderflashes--
- thunderflashes?

They're a kind of powerful firework

used by the army to simulate
grenades in training.

You stuff one in the fella's
feather pillow

and the other one half-submerged

in a strategically placed
bucket of whitewash,

light the blue touch paper
and retire with alacrity.

I think that's an awful thing to do!

Pretty antisocial, I must confess.

You can't possibly
blame poor old tris.
- Thank you, Helen.

To be fair, I can't. All the same...

All the same what?

In some extraordinary way, you
seem to court disaster.

Only you, looking for the men's lavatory

could have stumbled by mistake
into that officer's bedroom

at the precise moment of the explosion.

Have you examined the remnants?

Yes. I'm afraid there's
nothing I can do.

It's not even the feathers
and the whitewash.

They might clean, but the
jacket and the trousers

are very badly scorched.

I'm surprised poor tris
wasn't more badly hurt.

I thought I was dead for a moment.

Two tremendous bangs, flames,
smoke, showers of whitewash

and clouds of falling feathers.

It wasn't a bit funny.
- I think it's dreadful.

Can't you complain?
- It's a bit tricky, having been guests.

Still, I would like to.

Hasn't James telephoned yet?

No. I think he's gone straight
from lord hulton's

to Mr. stokill to stitch a teat.

He will be absolutely exhausted.

Tristan, you can save him one job

if you go to billings' farm

and give that calf its injection.

Right. I'll go.

And if it's any worse,
telephone me at once.

Right.

This is the third time, Mr. stokill,

and I'm afraid it's going
to keep on happening.

Aye, it's just the shape she's in.

That great udder--

there's nowhere to put
it when she lies down

without the other cows standing on it.

By gow...

You wouldn't think another cow
could make such a mess.

Well, cow's hooves are sharp.

They're like a knife coming down.

I don't reckon t'old lass
owes me anything.

12 years, and I wouldn't like to count

how many thousands of gallons
she's turned out,

and she's leaving four a day.

I don't much like the idea
of sending her to market.

But I reckon there's naught for it now.

Well, it does seem a pity.

Isn't your old stable empty?

Aye. So it is, aye.

Well, why don't you put her in there?

She'll be safe. She'd feed
three calves easily.

By gow, you're right, Mr. herriot.

She'll pay her way,

and nobody to stand on
her poor old teats!

I tell thee straight, that herriot
was round at my place,

bold as brass, touting for business.

He's a veterinary, ain't he?

There's vets, and vets.
This one's a dead loss.

I could tell you a few tales about him.

What sort of tales, Seth?

Many a time folks have brought dogs
to me he's made a mess of.

Thee knows all about dogs, eh?

There's not a lot I don't know,

but if I'm beat, I goes
to him what does know,

and not herriot, that's for sure.

I slips over to brawton and
consults with denby broom.

He's a big friend of mine.
- Is that where you've been with jimbo?

I took him over there just
for a second opinion like.

Seems like you've made
a right mess of him.

That's your natural ignorance.

Sulfur diox-messy-- just
the job for his eczema.

What's so wrong with herriot then?

Naught! He's just thick in the head.

My God, James,

you must be absolutely
done in, aren't you?

No, not really. When things turn out
well, against all expectations,

it's surprising how it buoys one up.

Total collapse comes later.

Yes, alas, all is not going well.
- Billings' calf?

I sent Tristan up to do the injection.

He was dead when he got there.

Damn.
- I'm likewise blasted.

It's serious. I don't mean the business,

but I should hate a really
good fella like billings

to lose faith in us.

I confess I'm absolutely flummoxed.

So am I.
- Hello, chaps.

Hello. Where have you been?

Down the drovers for a quick half.

You should have been there, James.

One Seth pilling slandering your
good name to all and sundry.

Never mind about him. Useless
fellow anyway.

Oh! Here's a letter for
you from the military.

Special delivery, dispatch rider.
Would you believe it?

Good lord.

James, in your absence, I took
things into my own hands,

I telephoned the billings, and said
we'd both like to be present

when they give the calves
their last feed at 5:00.

Fine. Anything special in mind?

Precisely nothing. Just a question
of leaving no stone unturned.

Yes, that's exactly what it's come to.

Listen to this! From the adjutant.

"The commanding officer wishes me
to express his personal regret

for the incident in which you
were accidentally involved.

My officers were in extreme
high spirits,

due to the uncertainty of being posted
overseas at little or no notice,

hence, their extremism."
- Poor fellas.

I can go to the tailor of my choice,
order a new dinner jacket,

and render the account to them.

I call that very civilized,

very satisfactory.

You can use my tailors in
York-- barton and mcafee

they're the only decent people
north of savile row.

Come on, James.
- Coming.

That's all they're getting, Mr. farnon.

Pure milk.

What's that?

Oh, a bit of muck. I'll have it out.

No, no.

That's not muck.

It's concave. Like a little cup.

Tell you what that is, it's a scab.

Now, where the heck did that come from?

Come along. Come on, my bitsy.

Let's have a look at you.

What you got there, eh?

There's a raw place.

Good grief, that's where it comes from!

Look at that.

It fits perfectly.

Aye.

Well, I can understand that.

I disbudded the calves
a fortnight since.

May I ask what you used?

Some new stuff. A fella
brought it round.

You just paint it on.

Well, it's better than caustic stick.

Have you got the bottle?

Aye. It's in the back kitchen.

I'll fetch it.

Oh, I love it.

Now we know, James.

"Butter of antimony." Oh, good lord.

What are you on about?
- Butter of antimony will
burn your horn buds off,

but it also happens to
be a deadly poison

if it gets in among the foodstuff.

Dang it, Mr. farnon, that's
just when it would.

They put their heads down to drink,
and the scabs fall in.

So they dislodge them knocking
them on the bars of the gates.

Three calves dead. I ought to sue!

I'd save your money. I'll see
that the sales are stopped,

and any of these bottles recalled
wherever they've been sold,

but the most important thing

is to see the rest of your
calves are all right.

We've got to remove any crusts remaining

and scrub the buds clean.

It was there in the bucket of milk
that the cow was drinking.

It was the caustic on the scab

that was causing all the trouble.

Sounds like one for the books.
- Siegfried's a first-rate sleuth.

Sometimes, he makes me
feel like Dr. Watson

trailing in the wake
of Sherlock Holmes.
- Never underrate yourself.

Anyway, you can do a bit of sleuthing
on your own for me.

What, Theo?
- Yes.

Did you give him those tablets?

Yes. I don't think it can be the worms.

He's getting thinner all the time.

Oh? Come on, Theo.

Out where I can see you,
that's a good dog.

You're right. He is still losing weight.

He's anemic, too.

You're no poker player, James.

Is it serious?

I'm not sure. It could be.

Anyway, I can't properly
examine him here.

Can you bring him into the
surgery tomorrow evening?

Yes, of course. What time?

About 5:00?
- Yes, all right.

I'll see you then, Paul.

'Night, James.
- Good night.

Oh, come in, Paul.

Name of pilling.
- Good heavens. Mrs. pilling.

Just look at my dog, Mr. herriot.

Oh, I say. Poor chap.

You're surprised. Aren't you? No wonder.

He's in a terrible state, isn't he?

I'm afraid he is. I wouldn't
have known him.

Nobody would. I think the
world of this dog,

and just look at him.

You know who's responsible, don't you?

Well...

Yes, you do. It's that husband of mine.

What do you think of my
husband, Mr. herriot?

I don't know him very well.

I knows him, and he's
a gorp, a great gorp.

Knows everything and knows naught.

He's played around with this good
dog till he's ruined him.

First, he says it's eczema. Is it?

No.

Then, he says it's mange. Is it?

No.

Do you know what it is?
- Yes.

Will you tell me, please?

It's myxedema.

Myxe...
- Just a moment.

Let's make absolutely sure.

Yes, that's it--

without a shadow of a doubt.

What do you call it?

Myxedema-- it's a thyroid deficiency.

There's a gland in his neck that
isn't doing its job properly.

And that makes his hair fall out?

Yes. It also accounts for this scaliness
and wrinkling of the skin.

But he's half asleep all the
time. How about that?

Another classic symptom. It
makes them very lethargic,

no energy at all.
- And... can you cure it?

Yes.
- Mr. herriot, don't take this wrong,

but could you be mistaken?

No, it's a perfectly straightforward
case.

To you, maybe.

Not to that clever husband
of mine, the great lubbot.

When I think what he's put my good
dog through, I could kill him.

I expect he thought he was
acting for the best.

I don't care what he thought.
He's made my poor dog suffer.

There. Thyroid extract.

One to jimbo, morning and night.

But he'll need something
rubbed on his skin.

No. Applications to the skin
don't do any good at all.

You mean them filthy bottles of stuff

that fancy fellow in
brawton made him buy

were a waste of time?
- Afraid so, yes.

Yellow it was and stank the place out.

Ruined my carpets, and
good chair covers.

I can't wait till I get home.

I'll show him.

By gum, I will!

Paul, I'm sorry to have
kept you waiting.

No, not a bit. The lady was ahead of me.

I wasn't absolutely straight
with you last night.

I know that, old chap.

I said you were no poker player.

Well...

There's no need for me
to examine Theo again.

He's got hodgkin's disease.

Let's have it in layman's terms.

Cancer of the lymphatic system.

And?

He's going to die, Paul.

I see.

Quite sure, James?

Absolutely.

I'm terribly sorry.

Is there no treatment?

Yes, there are various palliatives.

I've never seen them do any good.

The end result is always the same.

It doesn't look so bad.

What-- what happens if
we don't do anything?

As the internal glands get bigger,

various things happen.

Dropsy develops in the abdomen.

You can see he's a bit
pot-bellied already.

Yes, I do, now you mention it.

Anything else?

Yes, as the thoracic glands enlarge,
he'll begin to pant.

Yes, I've noticed that already.

He's breathless after a short walk.

And he'll get thinner and thinner
and more debilitated.

So... what it amounts to is

he's going to be pretty miserable

for the rest of his life.

How long is that going to be?

Two or three weeks.

It varies-- up to three months.

Well, James, I can't let that happen.

It's my responsibility.

You must put him to sleep now,

before he really starts to suffer.

Don't you agree?

It's the kindest thing, yes.

Will you do it immediately, as
soon as I'm out of that door?

Of course. He won't know a thing, Paul.

Goodbye, old chap.

It's an occupational hazard,

one of the grayer aspects
of our profession.

None of us enjoys it very much.

But the last thing that a furry
little creature feels

is the touch of a human hand,

and the last thing he hears

is the gentleness of a human voice.

It's the best we can manage.

I do appreciate that. I was
thinking about Paul.

What about him?
- I don't know. I can't
put my finger on it.

It's not that it didn't touch him.

I know damn well it did. He wasn't hard.

He wasn't the least bit sentimental.

He didn't shilly-shally for a moment.

He saw the situation and came to
terms with it there and then.

I find that very rare.

It is, but we decided that about him
the other day. He's a rare fellow.

I could do with a drink.

I think we all could.
- All right, my dear.

Hello, everyone!
Do you ever
notice at these moments

how immaculate my brother's timing is?

How was York?

Do you know, Helen, I hardly noticed.

I only had eyes for myself.

Have you ever been in the fitting room

of a really good tailor, James?

It's fantastic. Mirrors all around you.

You see yourself in the most
extraordinary angles.

Not just the front view, but the
side view and the back view

in a sort of corridor of diminishing
images, which goes on forever.

You didn't find the experience
depressing?

Oh, no, not at all. I mean, that suit

what it's going to be--

midnight blue, double-breasted,
silk facings.

I chose the material with mcafee
himself, which reminds me,

they're military tailors, so
they get all the gossip.

He thinks the dragoons are
going to be mechanized.

He's right. That was going
to be my bit of news,

and it's good news.

Now, James, what value would
you place on number 90?

Well, valuing horses of quality...

Go on, have a go.
- 250 guineas?

Absolutely bang right, I'd say.

And as horse meat for the knackers man?

The going rate-- 15 quid.

Quite right again, and that's exactly

what hulton paid the army for him.

He's bought him?

Yes. The dragoons were going
to lose their horses anyway,

but number 90 has been reported
as unmanageable,

so he was due for the bullet.

So hulton got him for the
price of dead meat.

Come with me tomorrow, James. I'll show
you something to cheer you up.

Look at that.

Steady as a train.

He changes feet like a circus horse.

That lad handles him very nicely.

He's a natural.

He comes here to see number 90
every time he gets a day pass.

The leg's absolutely sound.

Very satisfactory.

Shall you hunt him next season?

Oh, yes...

If there is a next season.

Right, my boy!

Take him over the jumps!

Oh... firm as a rock.

Clean as a whistle.

Well done, my boy.

Thank you, my lord.

Take him back to the stables
and give him a good rubdown.

Yes, my lord.

Tsk, come on.

Poor old raven.

He won't like maintaining the engine

of an armored car after this.

I owe you two a deuce of a lot.

You saved that magnificent
horse, farnon.

And you saved my favorite sow, herriot.

How is Lucy?
- She's superb, old boy.

I'd like to see her before we leave.

She'll be very offended if you didn't.

Well, the sun's over the yardarm.

Time for a little refreshment, I think.

What's all this,

secret drinking?

I needed one.

Darling, what's wrong?

I thought you'd have heard.

It's all over darrowby.

What is?

Paul cotterell's dead.

Dead?

He took an overdose of sleeping pills.

I walked over to see his
landlady, Mrs. Clayton.

She's a really sweet little woman.

She's terribly upset.

She told me things about
Paul we didn't know.

He wasn't at all what he seemed--

the easy manner, the self-confidence.

It was all a fa?ade.

He suffered from the most frightful
bouts of black depression.

He was a terribly lonely man.

Theo was all he had,

all he really cared for.

Oh, I see.

And having to have Theo put to sleep--

that was the last straw.

Yes, I suppose it was.

James...

James, don't be silly.

You can't possibly blame yourself.

Hey.

Paul wouldn't want you to.

No!

No, I suppose not.