When Stewart Halperin left London to take on a veterinary practice in Bruton he had no idea how bizarre his life was about to become..
It’s 1am…just long enough after closing time for anyone who’s carried on drinking at home to notice that there’s something not quite right with their cat. The phone rings.
‘One eye’s bigger than the other,’ says Mr P, a regular to the surgery with his two year old Burmese cat Tommy, who tonight sounds as if he’s talking from the bottom of a fish tank.
So little voice A in my head says: ‘He’s drunk, be polite and ask him to call the surgery in the morning if one eye is still swollen.’
But little voice B says: “Yes but it could be Horners disease or a retro bulbar absess or worse and I’d better take this seriously and I may have to get out my snug bed with my snug family and do a cold middle of the night house call.’
‘How much bigger is it, Mr P?’ I ask fishing for help.
‘A lot,’ says Mr P. ‘And it stings.’I think it was the lamppost though it may have been the door.’
I sit up in bed and rub an eye myself. ‘How’s Tommy, Mr P?’ I ask and hold my breath.
‘Who? Tommy? Oh he’s grand, thank you.’
I check my watch, allow myself a small smile and give Mr P the number of my old friend Dr Myers. I make a mental note to call the good doctor in the morning to find out how he got on….
Stewart Halperin runs the Bruton Vets Practice
