All Creatures Great and Small (1978–1990): Season 4, Episode 6 - Only One Woof - full transcript

Hurry up.

P.A.: Would the owner of bmv416

please move his car...

Mr. herriot
- Hello, Fred.

Mrs. herriot. That were a good gather.

Oh, well done!
- Can I go now, mommy?

Oh yes, you've been very patient.

I need to go too, mom.
- We all need to go.

Come on, make it a family trip.

Man: He's missed that. He'll
get nothing for that.

Hello, seb.
- Mr. farnon.

Disappointing old day, isn't it?
- Ain't it? Sit!

Any of yours running?
- Nah, still training these two up just now.

Fine-looking pair. Are they
out of the same litter?

Aye, out of old Lacey.

The bitch that made the national finals?
- That's the one. Stay!

Now there's something
for you, Mr. farnon.

What's that?
- Gyp there. He don't bark.

Never has done since he were born.

Like a four-legged Peter Pan or something.

The dog that wouldn't grow up.

It happens sometimes.
- Hasn't kept him back, mind.

Right good 'uns, both of 'em.

But, I reckon gyp

even without his woof has
something special.

Look, knows I'm talkin' about him.

Having no voice seems to make
his understanding sharper.

Mr. farnon. Hello, seb.
- Now then, James.

Mr. farnon, it's blaze. We're due
in next, but he's taken poorly.

Could you come look at him?
- Of course.

Where is he?
- Over here by the car.

Come on. Come on.

Biggins: Mr. herriot?

Jimmy, go and find mommy, will you?

I've been looking for you.
- Here I am, Mr. biggins.

The thing is a cow of mine's
grunting a bit.

Would you like me to come
and have a look at her?

Well, I don't know.

Happen she's not as bad as all that.

Whatever you say.

Nay, it's what you say. You're the vet.

Look, we've gone through this before.

Would you like me to come look
at your cow, or would you not?

I know what'll happen.

You'll come once,

then you'll come day after,
and day after that.

In the finish, it'd be cheaper

if I give you t'cow at
the end of it all.

It's your animal, Mr. biggins.
So do I visit or not?

I can't afford to have you pouring

expensive medicine down her throat
if there's naught wrong,

can I now?
- It's always the same, isn't it?

You can't make up your mind!

So, what would you like me to do?

I'll think on it.

And if she's no better by morning,
happen I'll telephone thee.

Whatever you say.

It'd be no good ringing thee
if she died in t'night.

Ha ha ha! I should be ringing
knackers then, wouldn't I?

If you need me, Mr. biggins,
you know where I am.

What was that all about?
- Oh, the silly old misery.

He can't make up his mind whether he
wants me to look at a cow of his.

Again?
- Again.

Oh.

Siegfried could do nothing?
- No, not a thing.

Jim cross is shattered.

He spent a great deal of effort
into training up that dog.

I'd like to try, dad.
- Try what?

Train a champion dog.
- Oh yeah,

like I said, it takes a very long time.

I've seen how Mr. wilkin does it with
gyp and sweep. And they're brilliant!

But some people say gyp's no
good because he can't bark.

He can't bark?
- Really!

Look at this! Children, come here, look!

Well, I wonder how they got here.

James: They're wild moggies by the look.

Helen: Poor things look famished.

Rosie: They can have my breakfast.

Jimmy: Can't, you've eaten it.
- Lots of scraps left.

They're Sammy's.
- That great lump can do without treats for one day.

Come on, get ready for school.
- Mm... sorry.

Morning, herriots.
- Morning, calum.

Permission to work?
- You're keen this morning.

Nothing like a dawn constitutional
to get the blood racing.

You should try it yourself, James.

Dawn on sennor! The veils
of night retreating

from the face of mother nature.

Then the moment when all is revealed--

man face to face with his creator.

It's face to face with my
clients I need to be.

James, you have no soul.
- True, and I have a long list of visits waiting.

Bye-bye, darling.
- Bye-bye, love.

Uh... you had any breakfast, calum?

Nothing as good as this.

What have you had?
- Cake.

Cake... for breakfast? Oh, calum.

Yes, a whole dundee cake baked by
the fair hand of Deirdre herself.

I wasn't up to hunting out the
duck eggs this morning.

Sit down. I'll get you something
proper to eat in a moment.

This is good, you know.
- Yes, it's cat food.

Woman: Sorry to get you back
so soon, Mr. herriot,

but it were looking like
a real s.O.S. Again.

It's the same old problem, mollie,
chronic depression.

I bet he hasn't eaten his food, has he?

Just lies there looking right sorry
for himself, poor thing.

I'd hoped that last injection
might have done the trick.

It were fine for a week or so, but then
he seemed to lose ground again.

I have never been able to
pin down the problem.

But you don't give up on him, do you?

I reckon I've got your
measure, young man.

Same as sir Charles armitage had mine,

when I were convinced I'd not survive
my operation, years back.

Sir Charles armitage?
- Aye, saved me life, he did.

When I'd been told by others I'd
naught but months to live.

That's a picture of him, over there.

They do say he was a brilliant surgeon.

More than that, Mr. herriot.

He cared, you see. Gave you
the hope to struggle on...

When others, even myself, had given up.

John Wayne.
- Aye.

T'other man in my life.

Sir Charles because he
spoke from the heart,

and John Wayne because he's
my favorite film star!

It's a hard act to follow.

We all have things that are special.

But some of us have that
little extra, don't we?

I wish I had some of it
now. To help Robbie.

You do your best,

that's all that matters, Mr. herriot.

Morning.

Morning.

Called out at 4:00 A.M.
- Oh?

My entire night's sleep
ruined, thanks to you.

Me?

You do know Williams of mirebeck farm?

Williams... yes, yes.

Hmm. He called me out to a cow

with a mild impaction of the rumen.

He's been messing about with
it himself for days.

Linseed oil, bicarb and ginger.

And suddenly at 4:00 this morning,
he decides to fetch me out of bed.

It could have waited, could it not?

Precisely! And so it would have done

had others not encouraged him

to do otherwise.

It has nothing to do with me.

It has everything to do with you.

It was you who incited him
to telephone day or night

no matter how trivial the problem.

I told him to phone me, not you.

Nevertheless, it was me
he got out of bed.

It is simply no good pandering
to panicky clients!

I'm sorry, I had no idea he would
take my words literally.

But I would hate to lose
a patient just because

a client was worried about
getting me out of my bed.

Calum, you are new to this practice,
still wet behind the ears,

as far as some of these
chaps are concerned.

Give 'em an inch, they'll grab a mile.

You can never be sure. How would
you feel if an animal died?

Nothing like a dead animal to bring some
of these people to their senses!

Might make 'em call us out
a bit earlier next time.

I'll bear that in mind, siegfried.

In which case this entire
unnecessary business

will have been worthwhile.

Bye.

Bye, calum.

What the devil kept you?

Mr. farnon?
- Both: Yes.

Siegfried farnon, this is my
brother Tristan farnon.

Jean Derrick.
- And how can we be of service to you?

I need some advice on goats, actually.
- Goats! Come along in.

Thank you.

Goats, now then--

it's Tristan farnon I've come to see.

On the subject of goats?

Yes, I understand from my
friend miss grantley

that you're the expert in
the practice, Mr. farnon.

Well...
- It's not an inconvenient time?

Good heavens, no! Unfortunately, my
brother has urgent business elsewhere.

But I'm entirely at your
disposal, miss Derrick.

Mrs., actually.
- Mrs. Derrick.

Mrs. Derrick.
- Yes.

Ah, well, goodbye.

I leave you in the more than capable
hands of our resident goat expert.

Thank you.

Do take a seat, Mrs. Derrick.
- Thank you.

I can't tell you what a relief it
is to find someone like you.

And almost on my doorstep.
- I'm surprised we haven't met before.

We've only been living here
since last autumn,

when my husband retired. He needed
a less stressful life.

We both did, I suppose.

Since he has his tomatoes--

tomatoes?
- It's his hobby,

growing prize tomatoes for competition.

Oh, I see.

I have such a lot of time on my hands,

so why not do something
useful, I thought.

Like keeping a goat. Yes, the perfect
solution, Mrs. Derrick.

Exactly! I've been reading up
on the different breeds.

But I'd very much like your
opinion on a suitable type.

Well, the... anglo nubian

is a tolerably good sort for
the first-time goat keeper.

The one that looks a bit like
a dog. Lovely long ears.

Fairly low on the milk yield, of course,

but if you crossed it with,
say, a British saanen,

that shouldn't be a problem.

Then there's the toggenburg,
the alpine--

the pretty black and white one.

Yes, but they're low on milk
yield, too, aren't they?

Quite low, yes.

But of course, what you lose in milk,

you make up with butterfat
content, isn't that so?

I can see you know your way
around goats, Mrs. Derrick.

Only from books.

But listening to you now, I'm confident
I could cope with keeping one.

Tristan.
- Jean.

Hello.
- Shh!

Sorry, sorry.

Making friends?
- Strange, isn't it,

them turning up here out of
the blue, choosing us?

She needed food for her youngster.

Probably lost the rest of the litter.
- Doesn't bear thinking about.

Rosie!

Oh, James!
- The bloody gramophone!

Come on, the waif nearer
home need sorting out.

That's not true, Mr. biggins.

Yes, all right, I will
come out right away.

It's that fool biggins!
- What's wrong, James?

His cow is dead.

What, the one he talked to
you about at the trials?

Couldn't decide if it was sick enough for treatment.
This morning, he finds it dead.

Ever penny wise and pound
foolish, our Mr. biggins.

How many times have I warned
him about early treatment?

Now the cow dies, he implies it's my fault!
- My dear James.

Just look at yourself. You're red
in the face, all tensed up.

Professional men all over the
country are cracking up,

and do you know why?
- Mr. biggins!

No, because they won't relax, James.

They get all steamed up about
piffling little things,

then they end up with heart
attacks and ulcers.

That's all very well, siegfried--
- Calm, James.

Inner calm. After all,
what does it matter?

It'll all be the same in
100 years, so why fret?

Darrowby-385.

Pleased with job then, veterinary?

It's your fault, Mr. biggins.

You're denying that I told
you she were poorly?

You stopped me coming out
to look at her, remember?

Aye, that was when it was naught
but a bit of a cough.

That "bit of a cough" was
chronic pneumonia.

Fine time to be telling me
that now, veterinary.

Aye, my loss, thanks to you.

£50 I gave for that cow!

Now then, gents, no sense
in getting all aerated.

I've said all I'm saying to this fella.

Let's get on with job, then.

I told you our terms, Mr. biggins.

Aye, and I've been making
a few inquiries

round some of t'other
yards, young Winston.

They fell about laughing at
what you're paying me.

That's as may be. But you'll
not better it, thou knows.

Come on now,

there's no point in kicking a man

when he's down in the muck, is there?

If beast were on hoof, you'd get more.

But with stagnation of t'lung
there's loss on the carcass.

Come on, get your hand down.

10 Bob on top,

same as old Charlie millichip offered,

and it's all thine.
- Charlie millichip out of scanton?

Aye, pleaded with me to let him have it.

Can't deny him a livin' to
let you have one, can I?

Well, Charlie's got a houseful
of bairns to feed.

We'll not take crust from his table.

Hey, what's thou doing, mallock?

Nay, mallock! You can't do that!

What the hum is going on?

Nay I...

What have you done that
for, you daft lummock?

Tell Charlie we wish him all
the best with t'carcass.

I shouldn't leave that lying around
for too long, Mr. biggins.

Health hazard. Bye, Winston.

Puss, puss, puss.

Puss, puss, puss.

She'll be right as rain in no time, seb.

Aye.

Looks as though you've got a good
prospect in that gyp there.

He were just going though
t'motions today.

You could have fooled me.

It's his brother sweep
that's the problem.

What, is he off color?
- He's gone, Mr. farnon.

Gyp here's missing him something bad.

You sold him?
- Now, I swore I'd never split the pair of them.

Like identical twins, gyp and sweep.

But you know what happened
to Jim crossley's blaze?

Yes, I do. Sad business, that.

Cut up bad were old Jim,

losing his only dog like that.

Anyroad, the long and the short of
the matter is I gave him sweep.

I see.

He did me a good turn a few years back.

Only fair you remember who your
friends are, Mr. farnon.

That must have been a
difficult decision,

deciding which dog to keep.

Well, there were little enough
to choose between them.

But I always fancied gyp
in a funny kind of way.

Look at him. He keeps watching
the track up here,

waiting for sweep to come home.

If only they could talk, huh?
- Yeah.

An act of outstanding generosity to
pass on an almost fully trained dog

to Jim crossley, out of pure friendship.

An altogether admirable
character, seb wilkin.

Jimmy wants to have a
go at training one.

I don't doubt it.

He'll learn.

Morning.
- Helen.

There's still no sign of them.
- They're probably lurking about.

Haven't touched the food I left
out. I hope they come back.

They'd be crazy to pass up
a soft touch like you.

Here she is.

What do you think?

Ah yes, a toggenburg.

Her name's gilda, after Rita Hayworth.

Just as sleek and seductive
as her namesake.

No problems, I hope.
- No, she's perfect.

She's got a good appetite.
Gluttonous, even.

But only one kind of food at a time.

They have the reputation
for eating anything

that's chucked at them, up
to and including old rope.

Not true, actually.

Very fussy eaters in their way, goats.

She'll eat one thing for days,

goes completely off it and
then onto something else.

Like today, only wants to
eat the garden nettles.

Typical.

And is she milking well?
- Oh yes, masses.

Bit of a job knowing what
to do with it all.

My husband's never been so healthy.

Seems to have worked out well for you.

There have been a few problems.

Not with gilda, my husband.

He's not too keen on having her share
the garden with his tomatoes.

But you do keep her tethered?
- Oh, of course.

He's being very silly about it all.

I told him you said there'd
be no problems,

but he's still convinced
she's after them.

I proved him wrong, though. I took one of
his silly tomatoes and offered it to gilda.

Turned her nose up at it.
- Sensible gilda.

Mr. biggins?

Mr. biggins?!

Come out, come out, wherever you are.

Damn and blast. Where the
hell are you, biggins?!

Mr. biggins!

Now then, veterinary. Calm theeself.

You're worrying my stock
carrying on like this.

Yes, you're quite right, Mr.
Biggins, I'm very sorry.

It's just that you were
nowhere to be seen.

Well, now that you're here, what
can I be doing for you?

You called me.

Not "call" exactly.

I just said if you were like passing,

I'd be more than grateful--
- I was passing.

I'm here now, so what do
you want... exactly?

Aye, I thought you'd likely be passing.

On my way to several other
calls, actually.

Some of them urgent.

So if we can get to the
point, I can get on.

You're like all the young 'uns,

dashing all over the shop.

It'll make you badly, thou knows.

I'm not here to discuss my health.
Have you got a sick animal?

Sick animal, did you say?

I'm not a veterinary, thou knows,
it's up to thee to judge.

Come on then, where is it?
- Where's what?

If you don't show me the animal,

I am getting back in my
car and I am going.

Your animal then may die unattended
and you'll be out of pocket.

So for the last time, where is it?

Oh, you want to see it then?

Yes, I want to see it, and
I want to see it now.

Is that clear?
- Aye, that's clear all right,

that you want to see an animal.

There's a good ewe that I bought
at auction. I'll show thee.

At last! Lead the way, Mr. biggins.

She's in there.

I'm not saying she's ill, mind.

But you're here and want to see her,

so I don't mind showing her.

Wait a minute. What are you playing at?

Me, I'm playing at nothing.

Haven't got the time-- time's
money thou knows.

Then let's stop wasting it and
look at your ewe, shall we?

Right you are, come on this way.

Thank you for all your help, Tristan.

Here, for you. Some of my
very own goat's cheese.

My husband adores it.

Thank you.

Also, I was hoping you could come
to lunch next Wednesday.

My husband will still be away,

and it will give me a chance
to talk goat shop to you.

Can you come?

I think I could arrange that, Jean.

Besides, I can try out some of
my new goaty recipes on you.

I can't wait.

Goodbye, Jean, and... thank
you for the cheese.

I hope you like it. Goodbye, Tristan.

She seems to be in perfect
health, Mr. biggins.

Seems to be, veterinary?
Are you not sure?

As far as I can tell, this animal
is perfectly healthy.

As far as you can tell? Do you mean to
say that she might be a wrong 'un?

As you are so often at pains
to point out, Mr. biggins,

I am the veterinary.

I've examined the animal and I can't
find anything wrong with it.

Now she may be suffering
from a latent disease,

she may, in fact, already have a disease
as yet unknown to veterinary science.

I'm not a fortuneteller, but I am a vet.

And as a vet, I am telling you
this animal is perfectly fit.

Is that better?

Now you're beginning to get
aerated again, Mr. herriot.

I've noticed that coming
out in you before.

But I'm glad that you think
ewe's a good one.

Splendid.

Now, if there's nothing more--
- Ah, but there is.

This ewe, you see,

she comes from a lot of 20.

20?

Aye, would you like to see the other 19?

Tell me, Mr. biggins, are
they all equally fit?

Well, you are--
- The veterinary, yes, I know, Mr. biggins.

I also think I know your little game.

Nay, veterinary. I don't play
little games, thou knows.

And time is money-- yes, I remember.

My time's money, Mr. biggins,
as you will soon find out.

No, don't go rushing off like that.

Look, you hoped for a free examination
of all your sheep,

my professional opinion for nothing.

Big mistake, Mr. biggins.

Now you can look forward to my bill for
both the examination and the call.

You asked to see the ewe.

You maneuvered me into seeing it.

You asked to see it.
- Oh God.

I just asked you to drop in if you
happened to be passing like.

It was not a call.
- It was a call, Mr. biggins.

It was not a call. It was more like
a favor between neighbors.

If I thought it was a billing matter--

for God sake! It is a billing matter.
When will you ever learn?

That's the fault with you young ones.

Fault? What fault?

You've got no sense of humor!

Calum: Right, from now
on, we're on our feet.

No sign of them?
- Completely vanished.

Thank you.

Don't you worry, seb. I'll
be with you directly.

Right, right, goodbye.

James!
- Yes.

Seb wilkin's good dog gyp has
just had some sort of a fit.

I'll have to go out straightaway.

Calum will stand in for
afternoon surgery.

No, I'll do it. It's his day off.

He's spending it up in sennor.
- Uh-huh.

He's very concerned for the
welfare of the deer.

Admirable, but we cannot be responsible
for all the wretchedness

in this vale of tears, you know?

Hmph.

Has this ever happened before?
- Aye, a few times.

You never thought to mention it to me?

I know dogs, Mr. farnon.

I've seen plenty with fits, and can make a
pretty good guess as to what's caused them--

worms, wrong feeding-- and unless
it's something like distemper,

I can cope with it myself.

What's he like after these fits?

Bit dazed like, then he's back
to normal just like now.

Bright as a bobbin. I've tried everything
I know-- it won't go away.

You can stop trying, seb.

He has epilepsy.

Epilepsy?
- Yes.

But...

He's a grand normal dog
most of the time.

Indeed, that's how it is with epilepsy.

I see... something wrong
with his brain, is it?

No, no. There's not really anything
wrong with the brain.

It's a... it's a very
mysterious disease.

That's a rum 'un.

Come on. Stay!

Will he get better?

There are some pills that he could have

which would decrease the frequency
of the attacks.

But that... that's not a cure.
There simply isn't one.

And these fits, they could
come on at any time,

say like in the middle of a trial?
- Oh yes.

That's it then.

He's not going to be up to the job
he was bred and trained for.

I'm not one to keep useless
work dogs about the place,

especially one that's gonna need tablets
for the rest of his life.

He'll be no good to me. And not
much use to himself neither.

That's your decision, of course, seb.

But apart from the fits he'd lead
a comparatively normal life.

A pet?

A ruddy laughingstock, I'll be!

Seb wilkin, trainer of
champion sheepdogs

nursing an old... crock like that!

I'll leave you to think about it.

I'll be back later... with the tablets.

Aye, do that. But I don't
guarantee he'll need 'em!

I've been looking forward to
this for a very long time.

What? Trying out your new bike?

Well, that yes, and...

And me.
- You?

No, the cake! I haven't had any
since breakfast time, remember?

You come a close second.

Darrowby-385.

Woman: Is that Mr. herriot?

Mollie? Hello.

It's Robbie, is it?
- Aye, poor old lad's looking right poorly.

All right, mollie. I'll
come out straightaway.

Bye.

I'm afraid he really is very bad.

Aye, knew as much the minute I saw him.

He's in a coma and even if I--

say the truth of it, Mr. herriot.

We've known each other too long
to start saying aught else.

Yes, of course.

I'll give him a stimulant, but I don't
think it'll work this time.

I'm sorry.

Ah well, Mr. herriot. You
did what you could.

I was hoping we might see
some deer up close.

Is there a hide?
- Aye, thousands.

Let's try that one over there.

Here?

Oh no, up there.

Up the tree?
- Oh yes.

It's the best place to see and
not be seen, I've found.

Calum, I'm not very good
at climbing trees.

Now's your chance to get
some practice, Deirdre.

Eh, could you go a wee
bit higher please?

Hoist yourself up over the branch.

Oh!
- Careful, no--

try and get your leg...
Aye, that's right.

Well done. Bye-bye just now.

Where are you going?
- I left the binoculars with the bike.

Sit still and watch. There'll
be a deer along in a minute.

Hurry back, Buchanan!

So he's going to have gyp put
down, I suppose, is he?

Seb wilkin isn't the kind of man to
hesitate in a matter like this.

Ruthless culling of any animal that
doesn't come up to scratch

is an article of his faith.

It's more to do with false pride in
humans than defects in animals.

These owners, they cling
to this tough image,

terrified that any emotional attachment
will be seen as a weakness.

You think seb wilkin falls
into that category?

There is no medical reason why
that dog should be put down.

It's to salve his hurt pride.

However, only he can make the decision.

Were one to try and influence
that decision,

it might have quite the opposite effect.

It's a dog's fate, siegfried.

They offer us their loyalty,
their trust,

even been known to lay down their lives
for their masters, and for what?

What's wrong, James?

Seb Wilkins, siegfried.
That's what's wrong.

No, no, no, no, not that.

Well, if you must know, it's mollie
minikin's old mongrel.

Mollie minikin's old mongrel.

The last call, huh?

It's ironic, isn't it?

On the one hand, we have seb wilkin,

hale and hearty playing God
with some healthy animal

and on the other hand, we have this frail
old lady with her one companion.

I'd have given anything to have
extended Robbie's life,

kept him going until she dies.

Man: Good afternoon, young man.

Enjoying the deer, I see.

Oh they're... they're
wonderful creatures.

So lithe.

Have you come to watch them, too?

Well, in part, I suppose.

Only in part? I could
watch them for hours.

Could you now?
- Oh yes.

I happen to know of a decent
hide, if you're interested.

Interested? Lead the way!
- Hmm.

You certainly seem to know
your way about the forest.

Well, you see, I own it.

Come in, old fellow, and
take the weight off.

Now, tell me about yourself.

What do you do?
- Do? Oh uh... I'm a vet.

A vet?

Good lord, you don't look like one.

No, I don't suppose I do.

So where do you practice?
- Um, darrowby.

You're with farnon, are you?

Good man that, but my father
always used mottram

for the small animal stuff.
And I just followed suit.

I suppose you...

Wouldn't be interested in a business
proposition, would you?

Hmm?
- Well, I really need a chap to keep an eye on my deer.

Do you think you could persuade farnon

to let me retain the practice as
veterinary consultants to the herd?

Oh, just let me try.

Eh, but he'll need to know your name.

Mannerton, Duke of. Well,
that's settled.

How about a whisky?

Oh! Oh.

Oh, calum Buchanan! Oh!

Come on, old fellow. Can't
let the side down!

Oh!

Thank you... your grace.

None of that nonsense. George.

George: Do you see that
Doe on the right?

Her mother was a marvelous animal.

Fleet as the wind.

Mm...

Oh no... um...

Excuse me, your gr-- George.

I've forgotten something.

Deirdre!

Deirdre!

I'm sorry.

Seb?
- Mr. farnon.

Well, seb, what have you decided?

Brought them tablets, did you?
- Indeed.

I'll have them then.

The instructions are on the packet.

Reckon I've gone soft, do you?

It's a leading question, seb.
- Well, I haven't.

I just haven't made my mind up
about the dog, that's all.

I mean, he's not to blame
for what's happened.

Always did what I asked of him.

Aye, and would still if I let him.
- Yes.

Well, I reckon I owe him
something for that.

Besides... he's a young dog.

So it'll do no harm to have him
about the place for a while.

At least till he's ruddy
well learned to bark.

James!
- She was on the doorstep.

Oh thank heavens. She
looks half-drowned.

She's very ill. It's cat flu, I think.

I'll get her into surgery.
- What about the mother?

No sign of her. I did have a look round.

No, it's cat flu all right.
It's a stinker of a dose.

Lucky for her she turned
up when she did.

I wonder why she came back.
- A houseful of vets,

where else would she go if she was ill?
- Still no sign of her mother.

Well, the same bug probably killed
her, or something else.

The mortality rate in
strays is very high.

At least Ginny's safe.
- Ginny?

Because of her ginger coloring.
Please make her live, James.

I intend to keep her.

Come on.

There...

There you are... yes...

Come on, back to your basket.

There's a good cat. There you are.

There... there...

Dramatic stuff, James.
Stuck out on a hill

with a calf laid wrong and the
heavens rending about one,

and then the final insult having physically
suffered the fury of the elements

I had to endure their God awful racket
when I finally got to my bed.

I didn't get a wink.

You should try my recipe for sleepless nights.
- What's that?

"The brothers karamazov."

Alexei fyodorovich karamazov
was the third son

of fyodor pavlovich karamazov.

And by the time I get to grigory kutuzov,
yefim petrovich polenov,

stepanida bedryagina--
I'm off to the races.

You use a book too. I do.

"Kleber's physiology of the eye."

An unsurpassed soporific.

"The ciliary muscle is inserted
into the ciliary body,

and by its contraction, moves
the ciliary body forwards

and so slackens the tension on
the suspensory ligament,"

und so weiter, und so weiter-- ah...

Meine liebe schöne Helen.

Has-- has that damned boy arrived yet?

Yes, he's in the kitchen having breakfast.
- Right.

What was all that about?
- Literary sleeping pills.

I'm sorry to spoil your fun,
but that was Mr. biggins.

Another of his cows has died.

It was struck by lightning last night.

What?
- Mm.

He wants you to clear it
for his insurance claim.

Thanks very much.

Aha!

There's something wrong, isn't there?

Yes, I'm afraid there is.

I've had old zeb beazley

complaining to me last night.

He said he phoned you the other night and
you refused to come out to his cow.

Is that right?
- She only had a wee touch of mastitis, though.

He's a valued client, calum.

And an exceedingly nice old boy. Not the
sort of client we want to lose, is he?

There was a slight thickening
of the milk, siegfried.

He'd been dosing the cow himself with some
homemade remedy and she was eating fine.

And that made you think it was all
right to leave till the next day?

But we agreed, did we not,
in non-urgent cases--

calum, there is one fundamental rule

in our job, which transcends all others:

You must attend!

That's not quite what you said--

as I have told our colleagues,
so must I tell you.

You must attend!

Burn it into your soul
with letters of fire.

You must attend.

Now, what is it?

You must attend.
- Exactly.

The client is in no position to judge
whether his animal is sick or not.

And even if you don't think it urgent,

the animal may take a turn
for the worse and die.

Not what our clients expect, is it?

I recall you saying, "there's
nothing like a dead animal

to bring them to their senses."

My dear boy! What I say now,
and what I've always said is

that you must attend. Mm?

Perhaps...

If you were to spend more time
concentrating on our clients

and less mooning around on sennor

with Deirdre and the deer...

Thank you for my cup of tea.

I know I shan't have to mention it again.
- No, siegfried.

Talking of sennor, I bumped into
the Duke of mannerton yesterday.

What? The Duke? Good heavens,
I haven't seen him for ages.

He uses mottram's practice, doesn't he?

Yes, but only for small animals.

Henceforth, we are retained to provide
veterinary care for the sennor herd.

And he's asked me to call him George.

♪ LA LA LA LA LA... ♪

hello, Winston.

Biggins must be moving fast
if he's got you here too.

Aye, damn quick.

Never seen a better touch
o' lightning' neither.

Absolutely, a classical
struck-by-lightning death.

Hardly seems worthwhile
doing a postmortem.

Sure about that, are you?

Yeah, it all looks straightforward
enough.

So you'll be signing the insurance
form for biggins, then?

Well, it looks in order.

I should try t'ear, veterinary.

I can't see anything except
this candle grease and--

oh my God!
- Aye, saw you coming all right.

Got my piece of paper then, veterinary?

Yes. Beautiful job.

What's thou on about?
- Your little dodge.

Must have taken hours to get it right.

I don't know what you mean, veterinary.

You do know that it's an offense to
falsify insurance claims, do you?

That cow died in storm!

The storm didn't cause the
scorch marks, did it?

You did, Mr. biggins.

God, the hours you must have spent burning
those lightning marks on that cow.

Pity about the candle grease.

I tell thee, it died in t'storm!

But it wasn't struck by
lightning, was it?

What's the difference? It
were dead, weren't it?

Your cow could have died from a heart
attack brought on by the storm.

In fact, it could have died by
any number of natural causes.

Trouble is natural causes aren't covered
by the insurance policy, are they?

Bye, Mr. biggins.

James!
- Coming.

They're so fresh they think they'll
still in the ground.

James!
- Oh, sorry!

Ginny?
- There she is!

Oh, James! Ginny!

Puss, puss, puss, come on.
- Ginny!

Are you sure you've searched
the outhouses thoroughly?

Yes, from top to bottom. I've been all
over the fields. She's vanished.

Just when I thought she was settled.
What's the matter with her?

Why can't she stay where she
knows she'll be cared for?

Maybe she'll make her own way back.
- If she doesn't die.

If she chooses to return.
- She's wild.

One night in skeldale isn't going
to make any difference.

I want her back, James.
- Helen, she's a wild cat.

What you've done for
her is very special.

Isn't that enough?

Tris, we weren't expecting you today.
- Places to go, people to meet.

Just passing through,
as a matter of fact.

In a half an hour, I'll be lunching
with Mrs. Derrick.

To offer her more of your
expert advice, no doubt.

But of course.
- Hit it off, have you, tris?

We do seem to have rather a lot in common.
- Ah.

Goats.

Oh.
- Toggenburgs, to be strictly accurate.

She's a very delightful and charming
woman, your Mrs. Derrick.

Utterly.
- Odd thing, you know, James, isn't it,

the attraction of opposites in people?

Not so. We're much of age,
similar temperaments.

After all, she is married to
a much older gentleman.

What is he talking about?

The retired Mr. Derrick who now devotes
himself to growing specimen tomatoes.

Tris--
- Not so, Tristan.

He's an elderly gentleman. Retired.
She told me herself.

Mr. Derrick is retired, but
he's the same age as you.

Don't you know who he is?

Should I?
- He's Bob Derrick, you idiot!

Known as "the widness whirlwind"

before he retired from the boxing ring.

But don't let that spoil your
luncheon, my dear brother.

Come in, Tristan.

Hello, Jean. Are you--

Tristan farnon.
- My husband, Tristan, Bob Derrick.

How do you do?
- I've been wanting a word with you.

Well--

about goats.

There now, Jean.

No need for all that. It's
not your fault, love.

It's others taking advantage
who I blame.

Look, have I come at an awkward time?

You come with me, you're responsible.

You'll bloody well see it through.

May I ask what's wrong, Mr. Derrick?

"Lovely goat, Mrs. Derrick.

No trouble. Easy to keep.

Plenty of room in the garden.

Won't even know she's out there."

Natter natter, yak yak. Full of rubbish, that's you.
- Look here.

Didn't think about me, did you?

I'm the muggins who has to
live with your ideas.

You try stinky milk poured in your tea.

Goat's cheese! High as an alley at the
back of a boozer on a Saturday night.

Goat products are really good for you.

Yes, then there's my tomatoes.

Mrs. Derrick did mention your tomatoes.

Not just any tomatoes, farnon,

competition specimens.

Earlys just coming into full bloom
for the big show next month.

You wanna see how they
look now? Be my guest.

She got loose, didn't she? Had her
wander up the garden and in here.

Wouldn't happen in a million
years, you said! But it did!

Ah, gilda got in among your tomatoes.

In among them? In among them?!

The mangy beast ate the lot.

123 specimen tomatoes...

Stalks and all!

Right. Up you go then.

You are joking, aren't you?

Listen, Deirdre.

One of the many advantages I secured
during my little business meeting

with his grace the other day

was the use of his hide
whenever I wanted.

Would you like to watch
the deer in comfort?

Hello, George.
- Look, dad, it's gyp.

Hello, seb.
- Mr. herriot.

Mrs. herriot.
- Hello, seb.

Is he still sick, Mr. wilkin?
- Jimmy!

He's all right, lad.

Can he bark yet, Mr. wilkin?

No lass, not yet.

Look, dad!

What?
- It's sweep!

Aye, lad.

That's Jim crossley running
my sweep out there.

Come on.

Helen: He's brilliant, seb.
- James: Yeah.

P.A.: Would bill toplady...
- Not bad.

D'you think gyp know it's him?
- Not yet, I reckon.

Come on!

Now then, veterinary.
- Did you have a good run, Fred?

I'll give you a good run in a minute!

Sheep playing up a bit, were they?

Aye, flighty beggars and all.

But it were a decent gather at the end.
- Good.

What do you reckon about that
old dog of seb wilkin's?

The one that went bad on him?
- That's a great pity.

He showed promise, Fred.

The old beggar ought to have
kept sweep, t'other one.

He's running today, isn't he?

Aye, that's him up there.

Good lord, so it is.

Yeah, I can never understand a
fella like seb wilkin myself.

Hanging on to that gyp.

I think he's gone soft on t'old dog.

There's no harm in that, Fred.

Good to see you, seb.

What's that there tittle-tattle
been going on about?

Fred? Nothing in particular.

Don't worry.

I know some of the lads go
on about me keeping gyp.

It's not unkindly meant.

They can keep on talking. They'll have
something else to think about

when they see the new
dogs I'm bringing on.

New dogs?
- Two like before.

And both with all their woofs.

And what about gyp?

You learn a lot about yourself
from animals, Mr. farnon.

I kept gyp in the first place

'cause I thought he were the best.

But since he got sick I keep him because
I like him. Plain and simple.

And I don't give a bugger who knows it.

Look out now! He's seen sweep!

I believe he has.
- Lie down, gyp.

Bloody hell.

All right, go on then.

He barked, Mr. wilkin. He barked!

Aye, lad.

And about time too.

James: I don't believe it!

Oh no, no, wait here.

Ginny. Ginny. Come on.

Right. Inside.

Go on then, play hard to
get. See if I care.

You can go or stay or take a running
jump at yourself, you silly cat.

What are you laughing at?

Nothing. Nothing. Come on.

If she thinks I'm gonna
worry myself sick...