Think about it mistress he took off from my arms in a tremendous leap and sailed into Mrs Pumphrey’s lap. She gave a startled “Ooh!” And then had to defend herself as he swarmed over her, licking her face and barking. During the excitement, I helped the chauffeur to bring out the beds, toys, cushions, coats and bowls, none of which had been used. As the car moved away, Mrs Pumphrey leaned out of the window.
Tears shone in her eyes. Her lips trembled. “Oh, Mr Herriot,” she cried, “how can I ever thank you? This is a triumph of surgery!” J AMES H ERRIOT