A Farmer Once Told Me One Of

If You Decide To Become A Veterinary Surgeon You Will Never Grow Rich, But You Will Have A Life Of Endless Interest And Variety.

I Think It Was The Beginning Of Mrs. Bond's Unquestioning Faith In Me When She Saw Me Quickly Enveloping The Cat Till All You Could See Of Him Was A Small Black And White Head Protruding From An Immovable Cocoon Of Cloth. He And I Were Now Facing Each Other, More Or Less Eyeball To Eyeball, And George Couldn't Do A Thing About It. As I Say, I Rather Pride Myself On This Little Expertise, And Even Today My Veterinary Colleagues Have Been Known To Remark, "old Herriot May Be Limited In Many Respects, But By God He Can Wrap A Cat.

If Having A Soul Means Being Able To Feel Love And Loyalty And Gratitude, Then Animals Are Better Off Than A Lot Of Humans. I Hope To Make People Realize How Totally Helpless Animals Are, How Dependent On Us, Trusting As A Child Must That We Will Be Kind And Take Care Of Their Needs ...[they] Are An Obligation Put On Us, A Responsibility We Have No Right To Neglect, Nor To Violate By Cruelty.

No Animal Is A Better Judge Of Comfort Than A Cat.

And There Was That Letter From The Bramleys—that Really Made Me Feel Good. You Don’t Find People Like The Bramleys Now; Radio, Television And The Motorcar Have Carried The Outside World Into The Most Isolated Places So That The Simple People You Used To Meet On The Lonely Farms Are Rapidly Becoming Like People Anywhere Else. There Are Still A Few Left, Of Course—old Folk Who Cling To The Ways Of Their Fathers And When I Come Across Any Of Them I Like To Make Some Excuse To Sit Down And Talk With Them And Listen To The Old Yorkshire Words And Expressions Which Have Almost Disappeared.