Contains If Only They Could Talk and It Shouldn't Happen to a Vet
James Herriot grew up in Glasgow and qualified as a veterinary surgeon at Glasgow Veterinary College. Shortly afterwards he took up a position as an assistant in a North Yorkshire practice where he remained, with the exception of his wartime service in the RAF, until his death in 1995.
Bulls with sunstroke, pigs on the run and a cake-eating Peke with a
betting habit . . . I grew up reading James Herriot's book and I'm
delighted that thirty years on they are still every bit as
charming, heartwarming and laugh-out-loud funny as they were
The attraction of Herriot's ever popular memoirs of a country vet . . . is their alternating highs and lows, humour and pathos, and gripping anecdotes about delivering lambs, grumpy farmers, hypochondriac pet-owners, stroppy cows and blunt Yorkshire characters. And, of course, there's a powerful nostalgia element in these stories about our green and pleasant land in the day before the ravages of ribbon development.
On original release in the 1970s, James Herriot's insights into the life of a working vet were so popular and enchanting to readers that the area of the Yorkshire Dales in which he practised became known as 'James Herriot country'.
*Yorkshire Ridings Magazine*