I Think It Was The Fact That

I Am Never At My Best In The Early Morning, Especially A Cold Morning In The Yorkshire Spring With A Piercing March Wind Sweeping Down From The Fells, Finding Its Way Inside My Clothing, Nipping At My Nose And Ears.

It Was Sunday Morning (one A.m.), A Not Unusual Time For Some Farmers, After A Late Saturday Night, To Have A Look Round Their Stock And Decide To Send For The Vet.

There Was No Last Animal I Treated. When Young Farm Lads Started To Help Me Over The Gate Into A Field Or A Pigpen, To Make Sure The Old Fellow Wouldn't Fall, I Started To Consider Retiring.

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 Was Helped By Having A Verbatim Memory Of What Happened Years Ago, Even If I Can't Remember What Happened A Couple Of Days Ago.