A Veterinary Journal by Claire Poole
Chapter 1
Page 4
Chapter 1
Sunday 4th January
Monday 5th January
Thursday 8th January
Thursday 14th January
Thursday 21st January
Monday 25th January
Tuesday 26th January
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Thursday 8th January
We have had several days of beautiful weather - bright sunshine, light winds and sparkling snow. Work has been undemanding and we have taken full advantage of a winter break on our doorstep. In the afternoons, Jay and I and assorted friends have set off up the track to the far side of the hill where we have enjoyed our own winter sports on the snow covered slopes. We have skied and sledged until our limbs are on fire, then towed each other behind the old estate car in a heavy, bobsleigh-like contraption rigged up by Jay and Colin. We have achieved speeds of up to 30 m.p.h. which has been exhilarating. Afterwards, we traipsed homewards for apres ski cups of steaming hot chocolate with cream - and a little brandy.
This morning I receive a call from an elderly couple living in an isolated cottage cut off from the main road. Their old dog has been failing for some time, and the extreme weather has finally pushed him over the edge. Their car cannot make it down the track, so I borrow Jay’s old estate, collect nurse Julie and attempt to get through to our patient. Thank goodness for the ancient, battered estate which heroically rises up, over or even through the snowdrifts blocking the way. The sad deed is done as the poorly old dog lies collapsed in his basket. I don’t think he even noticed we were there. His owners are philosophical, but will miss him badly. Julie returns with me to the farm surgery where we have some operations today - nothing too taxing, just some routine neuterings and a cat for a teeth scale and polish.
Much of our operative load is routine work such as this - it is surprising how much there is to do in such a small community. I worry occasionally that we might run out of animals to operate on, but so far (touch wood!) this hasn’t happened. Most of our clients are seen initially at the Clayfern surgery, but all the operations are carried out at the farm surgery. This seems like a strange arrangement, but it works well in practice. Cats can be brought up from Clayfern in my car, while the dogs are brought directly by their owners.
After our work is over, I take Julie home. It is becoming even colder, and her little car refused to start this morning. She is off to beg her mechanic friend to take a look. We stitched his dog’s foot after surgery one night before Christmas, so hopefully she will have some bargaining power.
The wind has freshened now, the wind chill factor putting our ambient temperature at approximately – 16*C. I call in at the local garage to book my car’s service and find both boss and mechanic in the office – they had to stop work when their spanners began sticking to their fingers in the intense cold. Driving back to Fern, the local radio station recites its litany of blocked roads, closed schools and cancelled events. The snow report is excellent - if anyone can get through to the ski centres!
There is time for a short walk before evening surgery, so I don my thermals and head down to the river. The sight that greets us is truly impressive - the river is tidal here and great sheets of ice have formed between the high and low tide levels, piled on top of each other to form massive platforms. Ice floes are slowly moving down river, creaking and groaning as they go. This looks more like the Arctic than Scotland. A soft pink light illuminates the scene as the sun gradually sets behind the hills. Once the sun has gone, the cold bites with renewed vigour. It is not the weather to dawdle in, so we briskly head for home - even the dogs seem glad to be back in front of the fire.
Driving home after evening surgery, I am treated to another arctic phenomenon – across the river, ghostly sheets of green and silver dance and shimmer in the clear northern sky – the northern lights, or aurora borealis. The spectacle continues during the 5 minute drive by the river but is already fading before I can alert Jay. Within minutes, the sky is still again. We cannot resist looking outside every so often during the evening, but unfortunately, there is no action replay.
Copyright Claire Poole 2005
