Every Living Thing (All Creatures Great and Small)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
This fifth and final installment in James Herriot's heartwarming collection brings back familiar friends (including old favorites such as Tricki Woo) and introduces new ones, including Herriot's children Rosie and Jimmy and the marvelously eccentric vet Calum Buchanan.
Every Living Thing is a perfect opportunity for existing fans of Herriot's work to reacquaint themselves with his writing, and for those who've never read him to see what generations of animal lovers have already discovered: James Herriot is that rarest of creatures, a genuine master storyteller.
to concentrate on the music, but was forced to settle for short periods of inaction then a careful shifting of position, sometimes to brace my back against the seat or move my clothes against my skin by side-to-side shufflings. I was convinced that there was only one flea at work now. After my experiences I had become an authority on the species and I was positive that I could track his progress over my person. As Beethoven thundered around me I had the feverish idea that I might trap him in the
from writing life after publication of The Lord God Made Them All in 1981, but released a final volume, Every Living Thing, in 1992. Wight passed away in 1995 at the age of seventy-eight at his home in Thirlby, near Thisk, Yorkshire. Wight with his first dog, Don, a beautiful, sleek-coated Irish setter, as a puppy. Wight while he was at Hillhead High School. It was the strong discipline and fine standards of Hillhead that helped develop his optimism, work ethic, and ambition. Wight
nothing, just a mannerism, but you insisted on my treating him for arthritis?” “Well, yes, but I was worried.” “I know, but you wouldn’t believe me and he’s still doing it. There’s nothing wrong with him. Lots of little dogs do it.” “Well, possibly, but…” “And another thing,” I said between my chuckles. “There was the time you made me give him sleeping pills because of his terrible nightmares.” “Yes, and rightly so. He made the most pathetic whimpering sound while he was sleeping and his
years younger than Siegfried. There was some mistake here. “Whom did you say you wanted?” I asked. “T’yoong man—Mr. Crooks.” Ah, well, there it was. I hadn’t realised that I had become attached to my title and, walking along the passage to fetch John, I felt strangely wistful as I faced the fact that, although I was still in my early thirties, I wasn’t the young man any more. From then on, I had to live with an ever-increasing flood of requests for the services of a young man who wasn’t me.
Ireson, but it’s a bit late. She’s pregnant.” His mouth opened, but no words came, then he swallowed and spoke in a hoarse whisper. “But…but what are we going to do?” “Nothing, nothing, don’t worry. She’ll have the kittens, that’s all, and I’ll find homes for them. Everything will be fine.” I was putting on my breeziest act, but it didn’t seem to help. “But Mr. Herriot, I don’t know anything about these things. I do feel terribly worried. She could die giving birth—she’s so tiny!” “No, no,