My father and I had almost finished a busy evening surgery at the veterinary practice of Sinclair and Wight in Thirsk. There was just one client left to see; he was sitting patiently and, on his knee, there was a large cardboard box with holes in. Rustling noises emanated from within the box.
‘I can tell you two things about whatever is inside that box,’ said my father with a wry smile. ‘It’ll be fast … and it’ll bite. You can deal with it!’
‘Thanks, Dad!’
As a practising veterinary surgeon with almost fifty years’ experience of working in general practice, my father, Alf Wight, had observed tremendous changes within his profession. Writing as James Herriot, he had brilliantly documented the ever-evolving face of the veterinary profession. He was a traditional vet – domestic farm animals, cats and dogs – and he faced, reluctantly, having to turn his hand to the ‘exotic’ species, for example rabbits, hamsters, gerbils, tortoises and snakes. He would have been amazed to observe the work of the vets at the Skeldale Veterinary Centre – the modern, relocated veterinary practice in Thirsk – as they tackle the many and varied ailments of so many different species. Their work has captured the interest of viewers nationwide as they watch The Yorkshire Vet television series on Channel 5. This programme has proved extremely popular, and just like James Herriot decades ago, they are a credit to their profession, accurately depicting the busy life of today’s practising veterinarians.
The profession has endured a barrage of criticism over recent years, with the accusation of vets charging extortionate fees a prime example. It should be remembered that the modern veterinary practice, in satisfying an ever more demanding public, faces huge overheads in providing a comprehensive, up-to-date and first-class service to their clients. This they largely do, and while watching The Yorkshire Vet there is little indication of any financial gain being the prime motivation. Just as James Herriot depicted his profession as the caring one, this television series projects a similar image. Many things have changed since James Herriot’s heyday, but in this respect, not much has altered.
My father often said that his time in veterinary practice was ‘harder but more fun’. It was certainly physically harder, but in contrast to his day, the modern vet has to deal with an endless onslaught of rules and regulations, with the threat of litigation lurking round every corner. Despite this, the vets and staff at Skeldale maintain an upbeat and humorous approach to their work, something that my father would have applauded. He always maintained that laughter was an essential ingredient of every veterinary surgeon’s day, and there was plenty of humour in his days as a vet, something that is more than adequately recorded in his bestselling books.
Julian, with whom I worked only very briefly, as I was retiring while he was beginning his time in Thirsk, mentions in his book how he too, over a comparatively short period of twenty years or so, has noticed the great changes in the work of the veterinary surgeon. When I began my time as a vet in Thirsk in 1967, the practice of Sinclair and Wight had between ninety and one hundred dairy farms to visit; now the Skeldale Veterinary Centre has only two or three. The country vet’s life was one of visiting countless small family farms, a time when the vet was almost a member of the family. They were days when a man milking twenty cows could make a decent living; at the time of writing this foreword, a dairy farmer milking ten times that number is struggling to make ends meet.
Most of our small farms have disappeared, many of them absorbed into much larger enterprises. Family-run veterinary practices have faced similar challenges, with large organizations swallowing up the smaller businesses. I believe it is refreshing to see local practices, like the one here in Thirsk, doing so well and providing an excellent twenty-four-hour, seven days a week, service in the face of so many big takeovers in our profession.
The Yorkshire Vet series has proved a great success, partly due to the honest and dedicated treatment of the patients, as displayed on the television screen. This is veterinary practice as it really is, and despite the many changes that have occurred since my time as a vet, some things have not changed, and I relive quite a few memories while watching the programme.
In this book, Julian gives a realistic insight into life behind the scenes at Skeldale Veterinary Centre, a turbulent life of triumphs mixed with disappointments. James Herriot said many times that he felt he was the greatest vet on earth one minute, only to feel a total idiot the next. This is adequately illustrated in Julian’s book and, as the reader will realize, it has done nothing to dampen his enthusiasm. His love for his profession is very clear; the elation following a successful case, his despair when things do not go to plan, together with his outspoken views on such important topics as tuberculosis and foot and mouth disease.
Shortly following my father’s death, a statement from the British Veterinary Association read, ‘James Herriot’s scientific and technical approach to his cases may well be outdated, but his caring and compassionate approach to both patient and customer is most definitely not’. The vets and staff at Skeldale Veterinary Centre are carrying forward that James Herriot tradition of compassion and care into the modern age. Long may this continue.
Jim Wight, BVMS, MRCVS, author of The Real James Herriot