“You never know what’s in store for you in our profession. Animals are unpredictable things. .Our life is an unpredictable tale of little triumphs and disasters, and you’ve got to really like it to stick to it.” James Herriot
According to James Herriot’s memory and to history, economic times were tough in England during the worldwide Depression of the 1930s. The author of the best-selling book, All Creatures Great and Small, writes about his forty-year career as a veterinarian in the rural and remote region of Yorkshire, England. He recalls that many of his newly licensed classmates could not get jobs during those times in the fields that they had trained. He felt lucky to get an invitation to interview for and ultimately receive an offer to work as the veterinary assistant with Siegfried Farnon’s practice, even though it was in an extremely isolated area. Herriot narrates these anecdotes from the first-person nostalgic point of view and published it in 1972 after he had retired from his practice.
His memoir is presented as a series of short-stories., but it reads as if it were a seasoned classic English nineteenth-century novel written by the likes of Thomas Hardy. And if seasoned and entertaining writing is any indication that a book will be a classic, then All Creatures Great and Small will most likely still be read and enjoyed 100 years from today. Herriot’s tales build with a slowly developing plot that moves along in a predictably reliable manner—that is, until the last section of the book, when they surprise and delight us in unexpected ways. I am not usually considered a softy, but if I hadn’t been sitting around several hundred people in a plane when I finished this book, I might have broken down in tears!
Herriot recalls that the job he accepted was only open because the practice was in a remote and rural part of England, where most of his classmates did not want to settle in. Working with farm animals like horses, cows, and pigs in the country was considered to be much harder than the job of a city veterinarian’s, who works with small pets. Fortunately for Herriot and the readers, he also got to treat some delightful small animals, It seems that the animals often matched the eccentric personalities of their owners. For example, Tricki Woo was a Pekingese (below), “and the apple of Mrs. Pumphrey’s eye.” She treats him like a most-favored child. He receives expensive gifts from his owner gets to eat indulgent human food like caviar. She calls Herriot to be the exclusive doctor for this overfed and under-exercised dog. One of Heriot’s most interesting cures is to take Tricki Woo home for several days to fast and play outside with Farnon’s six active dogs. That treatment does the trick, and the dog is instantly cured. After that Tricki Woo is so appreciative that he sends Herriot invitations to attend parties at Pumphrey’s house. Her lavish living and assignment of human qualities to her pet serve as a striking contrast to the simple lifestyles of the Yorkdale farmers.
Stories about anyone who makes their living working with large or small creatures is bound to be entertaining to animal lovers. But those describing the interactions of a newly trained vet, who is thrust into a totally unfamiliar world where he is required to interpret the heavy-accented colloquial dialogue of quirky farmers before he can even begin to treat their ailing animals, is bound to be a heroic and compelling tale. Besides following Herriot’s character as he is transformed into a highly skilled vet, the book is spiced with the hilarious anecdotes between Farnon and his car wrecking brother, and with the accountant, Farnon hires who attempts to transform his haphazard practice into a successful business venture.
The book ends with a romance which is as delicately presented as was ever seen in any nineteenth-century English novel! The most powerful feature of the writing is Herriot’s descriptions of the patient interactions he has with the farmers, as he tries to understand their problems, as well as what’s ailing their livestock. At first, Herriot considered himself lucky that he was invited to interview for a job working with a more experienced vet. As he tells the story, he understands what a difficult and rewarding lifestyle and profession he has chosen. These challenges and his slowly developing love for the rustic scenery are both conveyed as Herriot is first proceeding to his job interview:
“I had never been in Yorkshire before, but the name had always a picture of a county as stodgy and unromantic as its pudding. I was prepared for solid worth, dullness, and a total lack of charm. But as the bus groaned its way higher I began to wonder. The formless heights were resolving into high, grassy hills and wide valleys. In the valley bottoms, rivers twisted among the trees and solid grey-stone farmhouses lay among islands of cultivated land which pushed bright green promontories up the hillsides into the dark tide of heather which lapped from the summits…The fences and hedges gave way to dry stone walls which bordered the road, enclosed the fields, and climbed endlessly over the surrounding fells. The walls were everywhere, countless miles of them…”
The first Yorkdale farmer he meets speaks to him about a problem with his cow in a language also seemingly constructed with unsurmountable walls. He asks Herriot to inform Farnon that,
“Bert Sharpe of Barrow Hills has a cow wot wants borin’ out.”
Herriot calmly replies without comprehending: “Boring out?”
Sharpe affirms, “That’s right, she’s nobbut going on three cylinders.”
Herriot: “Three cylinders?”
“If we don’t do summat she’ll go wrang in ‘er ewer, won’t she?”
Herriot replies without the slightest comprehension: “Very probably.”
As Farnon begins to help his new vet understand the world of the farmers, the walls of language confusion begin to crumble. Farnon informs the young vet that Sharpe was saying that his cow was trying to have a calf but was having a birthing problem. After the two vets confer on the proper treatment, Herriot suddenly understands Sharpe after the farmer blurts out that his cow is now “running on all four cylinders.” However, things are never easy for Herriot, but seeing the walls of language come crumbling down is what makes these tales most interesting.
As Herriot is learning his new profession, he is seriously challenged by some of the farmers. His first solo call (while Farnon was away) came in the middle of the night and was from one of their most annoying clients. He is initially disturbed because Farnon cannot take the call and that his prized sick cow has to be treated by a vet who had so little experience. When Herriot arrives, he sees that the owner has sent the skeptical uncle to deal with him. The uncle is shocked that Herriot has not heard of the other well-known vet in the area, Bloomfield. Herriot informs him that this is so because he has only been practicing for seven months. This type of farmer, says Herriot, is likely to be highly critical of all young vets and likely to tell them incorrectly what needs to be done. Herriot struggles mightily to deliver the calf because it was in the wrong birthing position, while farmer repeatedly informs him that Bloomfield would undoubtedly know what to do. The young vet reflects on his thoughts:
“Two hours later, defeat was just around the corner. I was just about whacked. I had roiled and groveled on the filthy cobbles while the Yorkshire farmers watched me in morose silence and Uncle kept up a non-stop stream of comments. You’re about beat, young man, “he said with deep satisfaction. “Well, I’ve never seen Mr. Broomfield beat but he’s had a lot more experience.”
Herriot thinks “The right thing to do, of course, would be to get up, tip the bucket of bloody water over Uncle’s head, run down the hill and drive away; away from Yorkshire, from Uncle, from the Dinsdales, from this cow…” But instead, he takes an aggressive stance and demands that uncle get involved in pulling a rope to turn the cow around and help him make a successful delivery. After this result was achieved, Herriot remarks that Uncle took off his hat and scratched his head in disbelief and remarks:
“By gaw, it’s alive. I’d of thowt it’d sure be dead after you messed up all that time.” A lot of fire had gone out of him and his pipe hung down empty from his lips.”
Farnon’s advice about what a vet should expect in the rural and remote region was spot on, and ironically could also serve as a suitable review for this book:
“You never know what’s in store for you in our profession…Animals are unpredictable things, so our whole life is unpredictable. It’s a long tale of little triumphs and disasters, and you’ve got to really like it to stick to it.”
Likewise, I found that reading All Creatures Great and Small “is unpredictable,” and all four of the bestselling books he wrote in his series are long tales of little triumphs and disasters.” The more I stuck with them, the more I liked them. Somehow, I missed the wave of readers who were hooked on All Creatures when it was first published in 1972. But due to a special online offer, I downloaded it on my Kindle, before I embarked on a recent trans-Atlantic plane ride to Europe, and I finished it on the way home. Reading it transported me to a different time and place and was such a magical experience that the 16 hours of typically dead air time disappeared from my memory. When the plane landed, all I could think about was both the ordinary and remarkable life and career of James Herriot. The Yorkshire farmers and Siegfried Farnon were lucky that he applied for the job and remained in that region for a forty-year working career. And readers who approach this book will feel thankful that he took the time to recall, reflect, and write about these inspiring experiences with such clarity and charm.
by 
