John Hicks - Pizzles in paradise: a vets journey

by

John Hicks

Illustrated by CarolLanfear Montgomery

Smash words edition

Table of Contents

- Of Pigs and Christians

- Ryebank Rhymes with Spank

- Ferry Cross the Mersey

- Its Not the Leaving of Liverpool that GrievesMe

- Blanco, Brasso, Bootpolish, Bullshit and ...Locusts

- I Wanted to Be a Vet, but I Never Had the Brains

- Much Ado About Women

- Norwegian Interlude

- Teasers and Pizzles

- Anatomy of a Veterinary Student

. - Student in the Dales

- And Then There was You

- Horses for Courses

- Highland Holiday

- Antipodean Anticipation

- An Irishman, a Yorkshireman and a Dutchman

- What do You Think about New Zealand?

- Whats in a Word?

- I dont Like Cricket: I Love it. Yeah!

- Alpine Adventure

- Communication is the Key

- Life and Death on the Canterbury Plains

- Return of the Natives

- Toy Repair Man

- Image is Everything

- Dear Deer

- Litany and Litigation

- Holiday in Hospital

- Sold on Southland

- Reproduction Revisited

- Moon-Metal Madness

- Redwater Reveries

- Money for Nothing and the Kicks forFree

- Valour and Discretion

- Change, Success and Failure

- League of Nations

- Dismantling the Barriers of Distaste

- Southlands Secrets

Inmemory of my uncleJohn Longton Hicksmissing in action, Malta1942.

Inspite of the impression some readers may gain of my experiences atan English public school, life there was not unremittingly bad. Myfirst acknowledgement is to my old English master, Peter Stott. Hisinspirational teaching has lived with me through the years.

I also owe agreat debt to those vets who tolerated my questioning presence andgave me early encouragement to pursue a career as a veterinarian:in particular Mr Betts in Liverpool and Mike Harkness of Sedbergh,with whom I spent many happy holidays. Later in life I had theprivilege of working with practice principals who were either kind,supportive or progressive and I would particularly like to mentionHank de Jong of Eltham and Craig Harrison of Menston, inYorkshire.

My thanks arealso due to Conor Quinn, literary assessor, for his support andexpertise during the daunting early stages of my first majorwriting project.

Lastly I wouldlike to thank my wife, Viv, and daughters, Emily and Morwenna, fortheir proofreading skills, helpful criticisms and constantencouragement; and Vivs sister, Carol, for bringing my ideas tolife with her wonderful illustrations.

John Hicks

July 2005

Preface

W hat is a vet? The public perception has beenstimulated in recent years by the wonderful but historic JamesHerriot series of books and their widely viewed televisionadaptation. Recent documentaries and drama series have portrayedvets as they are trained and followed the first tentative steps oftheir careers.

The danger ofstereotyping is ever present. Let us cut to a conversation at myuniversity hall of residence. A medical student confronts herveterinary peer across the dining table.

I cantunderstand why anyone would want to be a vet. I think its sickpreferring animals to humans.

To which therejoinder given, Thats absurd, its like saying a greengrocerprefers cabbages to humans, is totally appropriate.

Being a vet isnot about liking animals, although it does help. For the most partit involves dealing with people and adjusting to their varied andlegitimate attitudes to their animals: be they for companionship,recreation, or as a source of income.

Vets occupypositions around the world in research, industry and governmentdepartments. Clinical practice is but one avenue open to those whohave qualified with a degree in veterinary science; nevertheless itis the road that most aspiring vets initially choose to follow, theone most revealed to the general public, perhaps the one aboutwhich you think you already know.

This is thestory of my journey to find and follow that road: twisting, rough,grotesque or hilarious as you may find it.

Apart from acouple of anecdotes which will, I hope, be categorised as jokes,each incident I have described is true to memory. Unfortunately,modern research demonstrates that this is a most unreliable beast.As a child trusting to the honesty of adults it was always amystery to me that authors could recall dialogue many years afteran event without the benefit of a recording. I suspect they did asI have: created reconstructions designed to simulate theperceptions occurring in the authors memory. Well of course theydid, didnt they? The resultant blurring of the lines betweenreality and imagination may concern the scientist, for whomobjectivity and accuracy are paramount. But, too often, theglorious ambivalence of the English language is vandalised by himinto jargon-laden submission. Conversely an enriched languageenables us to express subtler nuances of feeling more in tune withthe complexity of our perceptions and thought patterns.

This is noscientific tract, and I apologise to any seriously scientificcolleagues whom I may have offended by straying from the path ofstrict accuracy. Veterinarians are trained to revere science beyondall other modalities, but it is my contention that the practisingveterinarian as a communicator needs skills in rhetoric andhyperbole. I may, of course, have been guilty of exploiting theseon occasion. Grossly untrue statements have been made when I feltthe need to rub the tip of my tongue against the mucous membrane ofmy cheek.

Whilst inapologetic mode: my spelling. Female readers may note that onoccasions I have spelled she as he. Oh for the lack of agender-neutral, singular, third person designation in these days ofsexual equality! One does what one can.

To those peoplewith whom I have shared my journey, and who happen to encountertheir alter egos within these pages, please forgive me anyinfelicities. No harm is intended.

Faults and errors can be found in most manuscripts. Pizzles in Paradise proved no exception and since, with modern publishinginnovations, it is relatively easy to rectify them, I have takenthis opportunity to do so. I have made changes in the light of newknowledge; for example, in relation to the disappearance of myUncle John in his Spitfire over Malta. I have also restored, uponrequest in some cases, the names of those whom I had disguised (inthe mistaken belief that they would be offended). I have tightenedthe text in places where I felt that my writerly exuberance becamecarried away. Perhaps there are yet more darlings I should havemurdered, and someDr Rinkle-Sachs comes to mindescaped by thenarrowest of margins ...