Category Archives: Vet

Always Vet in Norway – A Blog

Muted Sunshine

Blog, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Vet, Writing, , , , , , , , , ,

Last Saturday I had an emergency trip to the opticians’. On Friday, or perhaps Thursday, I’d noticed flashes of light in the corner of my left eye. I thought it was a reflection from the headlights of a passing car catching the edge of my glasses, but when it happened again in the darkness of my back garden on Friday evening, then again when writing this blog on Saturday morning, I knew it wasn’t.

Having looked up what flashes of this type could mean, I called the opticians’ as soon as they opened. The receptionist asked lots of questions and said they were fully booked, but that she would speak to an optician and call me back. She did so within a few minutes, telling me they were going to fit me in and to come right away.

I was seen very quickly and fortunately, she didn’t find anything untoward. As a part of the aging process, the vitreous humour (the jelly like substance filling your eye) becomes more liquid and can pull away from the retina (made up of cells which capture the light and send information to your brain allowing you to see). As it pulls away, there’s a risk of tearing. Either the retina can be torn away from the back of the eye altogether (meaning you lose sight over whichever area becomes detached) or blood vessels can tear, with potentially the same effect if the cells of the retina die. Fortunately, my flashes were most likely caused by the edge of the retina lifting a little as the vitreous humour separated. Most likely it would stop in a few days, she said, and it seems to have done just that.

There was another unexpected surprise when I went to pay. I was expecting a fee of maybe £100 as she’d spent a lot of time looking at my eyes and used a lot of sophisticated equipment, but apparently the whole examination was covered by the NHS. Many of its services may be broken, but this one worked exactly as it ought to. A reminder then, that sometimes peripheral functions can be provided by the private sector, even if central services really are better served in public hands.

It’s been a good week at work. I inspected chicken farms on Monday and Tuesday and felt I was beginning to provide a useful service as my knowledge is growing over time. Once I have been doing it for a little longer, it would be a useful experience to recap by joining another more experienced vet on a visit, if I am allowed to. When you first visit with someone else, you pick up some knowledge and can grow your own as you work, but sometimes going back and watching someone else once the basic knowledge is in place can mean picking up on the subtler aspects that you maybe missed in the steep learning curve at the beginning. I’ll have to discuss it with my line manager though. One of the problems with being chronically understaffed is that there is little spare time for anything beyond the basic.

On Thursday, I had lunch with Fran, the minister of the church I’ve been attending in Lochmaben. It’s been my intention for a while to ask her whether there is anything I can usefully do in my (admittedly limited) spare time to help in the parish, but instead, we got talking about Shetland, where she worked for a few years, and then writing. It seems that she also writes and was very enthusiastic when I suggested she could come along to the writing club I belong to. I will ask about helping out later, but in the meantime, I seem to have made another friend.


The best things come to those who wait, or so it is said. Over the past years and months, I have had so many things to sort out (moving internationally is incredibly intense) that all kinds of other things have ended up on the back burner. A colleague and I had talked about getting a coffee machine at work, but somehow, I’d never got round to it. I had a lovely meal round at Donna’s last Friday and it came up that she had one, barely used, that she was going to take to a charity shop. I guess I should probably make a donation to charity now to cover what they’ve lost, but she gave it to me instead. It is now installed at work and I will buy pods and try it out next week. I hope my colleague is pleased!

I’ve also been putting off making any decisions about the garden, which needs to be tidied, but is taking a firm second place to the building work in the house. I had a gardener for a while, but he sacked me as I was never home. I had vaguely looked for another, but they aren’t easy to find. David, one of the local authority inspectors I work with, unexpectedly offered me gardening tools that were left in a rental house he part-owns and oversees. So now, without lifting a finger, I have a lawn-mower, a strimmer, a hedge cutter and various hoes and spades. Part of what put me off doing my own gardening was the expense and time it would take to go out and buy everything I need, and now I don’t have to. Though the last few years have been incredibly tough, and there are still struggles I’m going through, there are shafts of sunshine in my life that are beginning to break through the clouds.

Most of the pictures this week were taken on the way back from lunch on Thursday. The cafe was in Lochmaben and the road back to Dumfries tops a hill, then drops steeply away, giving marvellous views over the plain where Dumfries lies. As I drove over, I got glimpses of the sun, which was shining through cloud, creating a wonderfully dramatic sky. The village of Torthorwald is halfway down the hill and I often drive past it and look at the ruined castle, clinging to the hillside. This time, I couldn’t resist. Stopping the car, I got out, climbed over the gate and made my way over the muddy stream to see the ancient stones in their wonderful setting. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed my wander.

And last, but not least, after the long, Arctic winters, where everything is silent and frozen for months on end, I was amazed to see that, even after the deep chill of last week, there were snowdrops growing in the shelter of the hawthorn hedges in Blackbird Lane. The birds are starting to sing again as well, on still mornings. On Wednesday, blackbirds vied with robins and greenfinch, as well as pink-footed geese and collared doves in a wonderful morning concerto. It was a reminder that spring is not too far away.

Thanks for reading. I hope you have a lovely week.

Snow and Frost

Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Travel, Vet, Yorkshire Dales, , , , , , , , ,

It feels like ages since I was down in Yorkshire, listening to the Met Office warnings about snow, but when I look back at this week’s pictures, I can see the snowfall was only last Sunday, which coincidentally was my birthday. I know the situation was unpredictable and that snow in the UK causes more disruption because the country is not set up for it, but the relentless warnings felt like they were over the top, not least because it was predicted the whole thing was only likely to last a day. It seems to me that an appropriate response, when the snow is going to melt within 24-48 hours, would be to remind everyone to avoid unnecessary travel on those days, then sit back and enjoy the scenery.

I woke at three in the morning and saw a thin layer of snow and assumed that might be it and went back to sleep. I’d left the curtains and blinds open so I could see and I confess I was amazed to wake again at six to see the entire window was obscured with snow, lying on the windowsill and sticking to the glass. Realistically this meant the snow was warm and sticky. When it’s snowing at minus 8, the flakes are usually tiny and don’t stick to anything, but drift at the slightest air movement. However, it did mean that it had snowed properly and wasn’t just a dusting!

I wondered last winter, our first back in the UK, whether Triar missed the snow, so knowing there was a good covering, I got out of bed to take him outside. It was a wonderful start to my birthday, watching him doing zoomies on the lawn and burying his face up to his ears.

Later, I went for a walk, but it was cold and windy and the sky was grey. I took a few photos, but didn’t linger long as I hadn’t dressed for the windchill, which wasn’t apparent among the houses, but only on venturing out into the fields.

I headed north on Monday and the roads were fine, though I travelled with blankets, warm soup and plenty of food. The rest of the week has been dominated, both at home and at work, by low temperatures.

At work, low temperatures are often significant as freezing conditions can affect the welfare of animals on the farm. For example, if the water in all the troughs freezes solid, it can be difficult to ensure all the animals have enough to drink. A cow drinks a lot of water. Part of my week has been spent making decisions about whether sales at markets can go ahead when their water has frozen and they can’t cleanse and disinfect. I haven’t personally been out blood sampling, but for colleagues who have, cold fingers are not the only challenge. If your sample freezes before you get it into the insulated, warmed box, it will be defunct. Repeat testing is expensive, so careful judgement is needed on whether to go ahead.

At home, it hasn’t been the best. Though the upstairs rooms in my house are now insulated, they still don’t have doors or radiators. The radiator in my hall has been going full pelt all week, but the passage is still too chilly for comfort. Quite unexpectedly though, the electrician/handyman who is running the project on my house, arrived to do some work downstairs on Tuesday. Back when the initial plan was hatched, it was suggested the ceiling in the downstairs bathroom would be lowered, partly to allow for various waste pipes and fan ducts to be hidden. I wasn’t sure if this was still going ahead, but I came back on Tuesday evening to find that not only was the bathroom ceiling being lowered, with added insulation, but he was doing the hallway in the back part of the house as well. That part is an extension with thinner walls and a flat roof and it was only with the onset of winter that I realised how cold that part of the house would be. All very well insulating the upstairs in the main, older part of the house, when the kitchen and bathroom and all the water pipes were out there and unprotected.

The kitchen is now the only bit that isn’t insulated overhead and that part of the house is already noticeably less chilly than the front hallway. There’s still more to do, but in time, I may not have to watch the smart meter ratcheting up a huge figure daily as I’ve chosen to keep the heating running day and night to prevent frozen pipes!

I shall leave you with some frosty pictures, mostly from Blackbird Lane. There is hoar frost collecting in the places where the low, winter sun doesn’t reach and it’s very beautiful. I’ve tried my best to capture it as well as the golden light against that wide, blue sky.

Thanks for reading. Have a good week!

Autumn Sunrises

Blog, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Travel, Vet, , , , ,

The storm came last Sunday, as forecast. It wailed around the thick walls of my snug little house and wuthered in the chimney. Despite having no doors on the rooms upstairs, my living room stayed warm and cosy. I grew up in houses where the central heating was in minimal use and one room was kept warm with a fire, so it was nothing new. With Triar snuggling on his sheepskin rug beside me, we weathered the storm in comfort.

Triar seems to have recovered well, for which I am enormously thankful. I was out with a colleague from the local authority on Wednesday. He also lives alone with his dog and we discussed how much a dog becomes part of your life when it’s just you and them. My morning walks down Blackbird Lane are shared with Triar and without him, I might never have walked there. More than anything else, those walks help me stay centred and because Triar enjoys exploring all the scents under the hedgerows, we take our time. As he sniffs around, I enjoy the birdsong.

Wednesday was a particularly beautiful morning, calm at sunrise, with mist rising over the fields and the birds were in full song. It’s a while since I used my Merlin App, but the Dawn chorus was so beautiful that I pulled the phone out of my pocket and switched it on. As well as the inevitable blackbirds, sparrows and robin (his sweet little song always lifts my heart) I picked up the song thrush that breaks snails on my patio, a long tailed tit and a goldcrest, among other things.

I took some photos too… of course I did!

Despite knowing I had a potentially difficult day ahead, there was a true moment of peace, there in Blackbird Lane.

I’m not sure whether it’s the time of year, or whether it’s the fact that the other vet that works with me has been seconded to another department, but the welfare referrals have gone crazy in the last two weeks. My lovely line manager has been away, so these were passed on by other managers from another region and I think there were seven of them altogether. Wednesday’s sounded most urgent and there’s at least one that (in my opinion) isn’t an indicator of poor welfare at all, but it is overwhelming.

When I say it might be the time of year, several of them came from slaughterhouses. As winter approaches, the farmers send off their old stock that will struggle through the cold weather, so inevitably those include animals with problems. Part of my job involves reminding farmers that welfare doesn’t end on the farm, but needs to continue until the end of the animal’s life. If it isn’t fit to travel, or perhaps it is, but shouldn’t go far, then they need to work out whether it should be taken to a local abattoir, or culled on the farm without going anywhere.

Too many farmers rely on someone coming to collect their cull cows and “organize all that,” when they should be making the arrangements themselves. Difficult to change the mindset, when that’s what they’ve always done but it’s a discussion I’ll be having a lot. Getting the best price for the meat or taking the most convenient path shouldn’t be the standard. Given the animal has given them the best part of its life, its welfare in death should be given decent consideration. If taking that cow with overgrown hooves to the local abattoir saves them from me and the local authority turning up to inspect all their animals and paperwork, that’s surely a good thing? Even if that’s their only incentive, I try to make it count.

Anyway, it’s almost breakfast time, so I shall wind this up. Triar and I came down to Yorkshire yesterday evening on the train. It’s not too expensive and as winter comes in, it might be more relaxing than driving, so we gave it a try. Luckily, Triar is an old hand on trains now. Here he is, under the table.

Have a good week all. Thanks for reading.

Before the Storm

Blog, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Vet, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

There were two beautiful mornings in Blackbird Lane the week before last that I want to share with you. I took the photo at the top of the page and the one below on Monday the 7th.

Mist hung above the fields, but the light was beautiful, catching the wonderful clarity of the raindrops, left there by a shower.

Four days later, it was frosty and again, I couldn’t resist taking photographs in the sparkling morning light.

I was taken out for a driver training course on the Thursday. The instructor asked why I was there. I must have triggered something when I answered some questions at work about my driving, but the only one I can think of was that I said I drive when I’m tired. If anyone working in field services (as I do) said they never drive when tired, they are not being entirely truthful. After a long day on a physical job on a farm, we all have to get home. That’s just how it is. Anyway I drove the instructor to Tebay service station and had a coffee and a pie, then drove her back. She says I’m a good driver, so no complaints about that one!

Last Sunday, I met an old friend from university and had a meal with him in Lockerbie. We then decided to go and look at a section of the west side of Hadrian’s wall, as it wasn’t too far away. It’s an impressive sight, even now: well constructed and taller than I am, so I couldn’t see over it. It was originally four metres high when it was built almost 2000 years ago. It must have been very commanding and Hadrian must have been very alarmed by all the evil Scots!

This week has been a real mixed bag. I was meant to be heading off to Bury St Edmunds today, to do some bluetongue surveillance, but on Tuesday, I was told that there was tracing work to be done here in Scotland and I couldn’t be spared. I was a bit frustrated as I was looking forward to getting away and doing some outbreak work.

The high point of my week was on Tuesday, when I visited a vet practice for a routine inspection over Wigtown way. It went well and I decided to spend lunchtime in a cafe in Wigtown called ReadingLasses. They had run out of soup and were only serving coffee and cake, so I chose a coffee and martini cake, which really was as delicious as it looks. Wigtown is also Scotland’s book town, as I’ve mentioned before, and as you can see in the photo below, and maybe guessed from its name, ReadingLasses was filled with books by and about women. I read the first two chapters of a book about crofting life with my cake and will definitely return for the following two next time I’m over that way.

Thursday wasn’t so good. I woke up and found that Triar’s breathing was not right. He was obviously struggling a bit, needing more effort to breathe out than was normal. I had woken at six and the vet didn’t open until 8:30 – he wasn’t bad enough to warrant an out of hours call – so I had a frightening couple of hours, during which my lovely friend Lara called me and calmed me down, talking through what to do.

By some miracle, the vet Triar knows had an appointment at 8:45, so I rushed Triar there. I think he has some kind of inflammation in his lungs, or pneumonia, but don’t know what’s causing it. He’s had a steroid injection and is doing a bit better, but for now, I’m waiting and monitoring and hoping he goes in the right direction. Lung problems in dogs can be difficult to diagnose and treat. This is the one time I wish I was working in practice, as I would do way more tests, though of course that can also cause more problems. Patience is very hard though and the realization of how precious he is to me was brought home by the wave of emotion. I was no use for work on Thursday morning and fortunately, my manager was very understanding.

So after all, I am very grateful to not be heading off to Bury St Edmunds today. Triar and I will have a quiet weekend together. The weather warnings say there’s a storm on the way, so we will shelter together here and hope for better things next week.

Druid Dog

Blog, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Vet, , , , , , ,

Last weekend, I made it to Torhouse Stone circle. I read somewhere, maybe at the site itself, that it consisted of a circle of “dumpy stones” but I see that Wikipedia calls them granite boulders, which sounds much better, so I’ll stick with that! There are nineteen stones in the circumference of the circle and three in the centre, and here, for the avoidance of doubt, is the Druid dog himself, who decided he would look very dashing, with his lovely silky ears getting all windswept and interesting.

As you can see, there were cows and a beautiful view, so I shall post a picture of that, without a dog in the way.

The age of the circle is not completely clear. They have yet to be excavated, but Historic Environment Scotland estimates that it is 4,000 years old which, if correct, would make it a bit younger than Cairn Holy (I posted about that here) and Stonehenge. On my online searches, I also discovered there is a particularly stunning looking stone circle in the Lake District, but I think that one will have to wait for the winter months, when all the tourists have departed.

From Torhouse, I drove on to Wigtown, hoping for coffee in ReadingLasses, but the centre of town was so busy with parked cars that I decided that too, could wait for another day. I drove on, down towards the harbour and saw a sign pointing to “Martyrs’ Stake”. The path looked enticing, so putting Triar on his lead, I decided to follow it.

A multitude of dragonflies flitted across the path at the beginning and later, there were brambles, filled with fruit. This little guy caught my ear with its drowsy summer buzz, so I took its photo, then carried on.

The stake itself was modern, which I confess disappointed me. I had been hoping for another standing stone, which technically this is, but it’s a newly placed monument, not an ancient artifact. Two women, Margaret Maclauchlan and Margaret Wilson were executed here on 11 May, 1685 for refusing to swear an oath declaring James VII of Scotland as head of the church. They were tied to stakes on the town’s mudflats, apparently, and allowed to drown with the rising tide. I’m not going to attempt to explain the Covenanters, or Scottish history in this post, but it was certainly a particularly cruel fate for those two poor women.

We stopped on the way home at Carsluith Castle. Like several other Historic Environment Scotland sites, it is closed to assess whether it’s safe, but there was a pleasant cafe in what would once have been its yard, where I had a very civilized cup of tea. There was also a delicatessen shop, which I will have to explore another day. It was too hot to leave Triar in the car, so he joined me outside, once I had ordered my drink.

It was good to get home to my nice, cool house. The walls are so thick that, even on warm summer days, it stays cool inside, and Donna assures me that it will stay easily warm in winter. Hopefully once I get the insulation put in the roof, that will be even more true.

A little later, I received a text from Donna, which said “If you’re home and at a loose end there’s a bottle of wine open and the chiminea is on. Making the most of the only day of summer 😂”. Well who could resist an offer like that? I decided on tea, instead of wine, but sat in Donna’s garden until the sun had gone down and it was properly dusk.

And now, a week later, I’m back at Valerie’s. I am attending a church meeting with her and her husband Charles, with a shared meal, for which Valerie prepared some delicious looking, traditional South African milk tarts last night. Tomorrow I’m going to a mini writing retreat with a group of writers I belong to. We meet in Lockerbie twice a month, and the mini-retreat is a little extra treat, which I am very much looking forward to.

It’s been a good week in various ways, but Triar has been telling me for the past few minutes that it’s time to get up, so I’d better go. I’ll leave you with a little gift the spiders in Blackbird Lane wove for me. Isn’t it beautiful?

Thanks for reading!

From Swimming Horses to Marauding Pigs

Blog, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Vet, Yorkshire Dales, , , , , , , , , ,

This week has felt so long, and has been so full, that it was almost a surprise when I looked back at my photos and realised that it was only last weekend I went to the Northern Canine and Equine Therapy Centre in Rathmell, where they do hydrotherapy for horses and dogs. They had advertised it as a coffee morning and we did indeed purchase a lovely coffee from a van outside the centre, but the real attraction lay inside.

The horse hydrotherapy session was due first, so we walked into the part of the centre where the horses were kept. I wish that I had taken more photos, but it was a lovely place and I instantly felt at home. The centrepiece of the covered yard was obviously the pool (pictured at the top of the page) but around two edges there were stables for the hospitalised horses. Some were there for lameness, some for weight loss and conditioning. Others were there, not so much for treatment, but for pampering. Imagine sending your horse away for a spa weekend!

Text in image: The pool is 12 feet deep and contains 30,000 gallons of water. It is untested to discourage unhealthy bacteria and is chlorinated to the same degree as a human pool. It takes one week to refill the pool every time we need to change the water and carry out any maintenance work. We therefore only completely emptyit annually

Having swum round, the pony in the picture was taken out, towelled down, then treated with oils to replace the natural oils that would have been removed from his coat. He then was walked into a solarium to dry out a bit.

Pony standing in the solarium. A bag of hay is being tied in front of him.

After we’d seen the horse swimming, we moved through to the dog pool. There. We watched as a dog physio put her labrador through his paces in the pool.

She told us about the different conditions they helped with. Her own dog doesn’t need any therapy, but he does love swimming. It’s also possible to book a half hour fun session with your dog and I immediately decided I’d like to take Triar to see if he would like indoor swimming. I also found myself wishing I worked there, or perhaps was a vet who could refer animals to them. It felt like a very positive place.

We had rather a bombshell last Friday afternoon, which I couldn’t bring myself to mention last week. My lovely boss, Kirsty, unexpectedly sent out a message to say she was leaving and her last day would be early in August. I will be very sad to see her go, and by the outpouring of shock, so will many of my colleagues. Both Lindsay (my Veterinary advisor – one step up from me) and Sue, who has just taken on a year long post after locumming on and off, called me up, mainly to express their sadness. Though it feels very sudden, it’s good for Kirsty and I hope she gets some much deserved time to relax.

Back at work on Monday, I visited a chicken farm with my colleague, Aleks. I have to do three visits with other vets before I can go solo, and this was my third. Because everyone is so busy, it’s difficult to find dates when two of us can go out together, so I’m glad my third accompanied visit is done. I have three of my own to do, so now I can more easily fit them into my timetable.

I can’t even remember what I did on Tuesday. It all feels so long ago! I was due to revisit a welfare case on Wednesday with David, who works for the local authority with animal health and welfare. We often work together and the revisit was to a farm where we witnessed some serious welfare issues before. But when he arrived, he asked me if we could divert to a more pressing issue. A group of pigs had escaped from their field and had turned up in someone else’s farmyard. It wasn’t the first time they’d escaped, but the farmer, quite correctly, now had them coralled in a barn.

Other authorities, including the police and the SSPCA had been called out when the pigs had escaped before, but nothing had been done. These situations are complicated to deal with. Animals do escape from time to time, and unless they’re on a road or causing risk, it’s really the farmer’s responsibility to get them back and secure them in the field or barn. For David and me, it was essentially a welfare issue. It’s not safe for the pigs to be marauding round the countryside. All farmers have a responsibility to keep their animals safe and keeping them enclosed within a safe area is key to that.

After the big foot and mouth outbreak in 2001, various laws were brought in to try to reduce the risks of another big outbreak. These included standstill laws on animal movements. If cloven hoofed animals (mainly cattle, sheep and pigs) are moved onto a farm, then the farm comes under a standstill order and for thirteen days, no animals can be moved off the farm without special permission.

So pigs landing unexpectedly on someone else’s farm presents quite an issue to that farmer, especially if they were planning on selling some animals, which our farmer was, and imminently. Our first action was to find out if the sale could go ahead. The pigs had not, to anyone’s knowledge, been near the animals that were to be sold, but equally, they had been loose, so where they had been was anyone’s guess. The movement ban applies to all animals on the farm, so the sale had to be stopped. That was done before we left the office.

Our next action was to visit the farm. It was an hour’s drive, but when we got there, I was able to examine the pigs. They were healthy and being well looked after. The main issue that had to be dealt with (or so we thought) was that they were not where they were meant to be.

Having looked at the entrapped pigs, we then went to visit the pig owner. The remainder of the herd were in a separate field from the ones who had escaped. To get to them, we had to walk through the field where the escapee pigs had been. There were some green boxes that looked like the boxes supermarkets use to deliver produce, but I had walked past them, keen to see if the pigs were okay. David had gone to get something from his van and I expected him to follow immediately, but when I turned to see where he was, he was standing at the gate, looking round.

He joined us eventually and we went and looked at the pigs. They looked well and the field they were in was (in my opinion) the perfect environment, with a small shelter, long grass and rushes to hide in and mud in which to wallow when the weather was warm.

It was only when we turned and walked back, that David told me what he had seen at the gate. Across from the supermarket boxes, there was litter, lying about. And in that rubbish, which was mostly food packaging, he had found empty packages for sausage rolls, ham and bacon, along with bags for bread and hot dog rolls.

I mentioned foot and mouth and the rules created after the big 2001 outbreak earlier. In addition to new rules on animal movements, strict rules were brought in about feeding pigs. Feeding them any kind of human food or kitchen waste is banned. We asked the farmer about the packages. It wasn’t impossible they had been left by someone having a picnic, but he didn’t know where they’d come from and said he thought people sometimes came and fed the pigs.

So now we had a situation, where there were empty packages for pork products that the escaped pigs had access to, and worse, that it was possible the produce, including raw bacon, might have been fed to the pigs.

These are the kinds of situations that have immediately to be sent up the food chain. Even if I had dealt with such a situation before, I would still have to call it in, without delay. The upshot of my phone call, and the work I have been doing for the last three days, is that both farms have to be locked down, with no movements of live or dead animals onto or off the premises, except under special licence. All the animals have to be inspected every 72 hours for signs of disease for a week, then probably weekly thereafter, for another two weeks. There was also the matter of the pigs being on the wrong farm, which was resolved yesterday, after lots of negotiation and paperwork.

So a vist which I thought might be a little complicated to resolve has turned into a behemoth case. One thing I will say is that we have an enormous amount to be grateful for with the farmer who took in the marauding pigs. She did everything right from start to finish, including calling us in. Chances are, the pigs don’t have foot and mouth, but now we have everything under supervision, so if the worst happens, we are already on top of it.

Had she chosen not to trap the pigs and call us, but had shoo’d them away and sent her animals to the sale, the potential for us being faced with another 2001 was there. That was started by pigs being fed improperly processed food and the disease wasn’t spotted until it had been sent all over the country. I may now be faced with three weeks of visits and a ton of paperwork, but this is the kind of work that can prevent a world of pain for farmers and a devastating cull that costs the country billions.

So this is what I am here for. I’m only a tiny cog in a very important chain, and kudos to both the wonderful farmer who called it in and for David for his observational skills. Next time, I won’t be so quick to pass by litter to look at animals.

But if I have one final thought, it is that I wish the government could see what we are here to do and how important vets and animal health and welfare officers are to this process. There should be more of us on the ground and the pay for those of us who choose to do this should be much better. Staff come and go, or work quickly to get promotion as there is no pay progression in our part of the civil service any more.

We need experienced people on the front line, but there is zero financial incentive to come and stay. Maybe saying this publically could get me into trouble, but if so, so be it. The people responsible for removing progressive pay bands for these roles have put the health and welfare of the nation’s animals at risk.

I work alongside a few, faithful staff, who have years of experience, a network of connections, a load of invaluable local knowledge, who are asked to train new entrants on the same wage as them. That is both plain wrong and absolute insanity. We should be making sure those people have an incentive to stay, that they know they are valued and that they don’t have to move to a different job to be properly rewarded.

And on that cheery note (sarcasm alert for non Brits) I shall leave you to your weekend! Have a good week all, and see you next week.

A few “after the rain” photographs for those who love Blackbird Lane.

Caerlaverock and Beyond

Blog, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Vet, ,

I’m sorry I didn’t post last week, as usual. I have been unwell and took a break. I’ve been back at work since Thursday and am finally getting back into the swing of things. This is going to be a short entry as well as I am currently in a Travelodge beside Edinburgh Airport as I am dropping Andrew off as he is returning to Norway today. Triar is down in Yorkshire with Mum and Dad and afterwards, I’m going onwards to visit Valerie, a wonderful friend from years ago, before we moved to Norway. I’m very much looking forward to it.

Many years ago, back when the children were young, Charlie and I joined Historic Scotland. I have many wonderful memories of that time. We spent many happy weekends visiting castles, watching the children race around on the well trimmed grass and following them up ancient, spiral stairways to emerge among the crenellations to wonderful views over Scotland. Its name has now changed to the (rather clunky) Scottish Environment Scotland, but I have taken out a year long membership again. I am now looking forward to planning a few visits. We visited Caerlaverock last week, which felt like a good start.

I’ve also joined the library. Again, when the children were young, we used to visit libraries during the school holidays. I feel like I’m taking things back on board that I enjoyed a long time ago.

Anyway, I said this would be a short entry, and now I have to take Andrew to the airport. The Travelodge Wi-Fi isn’t really up to loading photos, so I haven’t managed to add much, but I will try to update better next weekend. Until then, have a lovely week all.

Royal Highland Show

Blog, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Vet, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

It’s been a busy week. On Monday, I made a revisit to a welfare case, Tuesday and Wednesday were spent catching up on paperwork and courses that I should have completed as well as having an appointment with a doctor from occupational health. Thursday I was third duty vet and yesterday, I inspected a chicken farm with a colleague up north of Ayr.

As some of you will know, I had some major neurological issues between 2017 and 2019. These mostly cleared up after I started physiotherapy and had some coincidental corticosteroid injections for a seemingly unrelated issue. I never received a diagnosis, but the problems I had still recur when I’m very tired, and I still tire very easily. My line manager referred me to occupational health as this means that coping with duty vet on top of my day to day work is currently too much.

The doctor has recommended that, though I will still cover nights and weekends, I will be temporarily relieved of the daytime tasks until I am more familiar with what needs to be done. She also recommended I should go to my GP and get myself rechecked. I imagine that could be a long job, involving lots of tests, quite likely with the same end result, but I will keep you posted.

With all that said, I was incredibly touched that another colleague from Lauder, who I’d never met before, invited me to come and do my first ever stint as third duty vet with her and doing it with someone else in the room with me, who was perfectly willing to help, was altogether a different experience. It might be difficult to organize for new starters to do this, partly because so many people still work from home, post Covid, but it would prevent a lot of anguish. So many people I have spoken to describe being in tears when they are stuck on duty vet that I have also reported it as a health and safety issue, but the reality is, we are understaffed and there’s not much that can be done.

Anyway, the best day of last week at work, was actually Sunday. I travelled through to the edge of Edinburgh on Saturday night, and at 07:45 on Sunday morning, I reported for duty as one of the official APHA vets at the Royal Highland Show.

Our routine remit didn’t sound too onerous. We were asked to walk round all the animals once to check on health and welfare. There were other vets at the show to deal with any front line injuries or illnesses. I did read our contingency plans before I went, which detailed what we must do in the event of a foot and mouth outbreak and other unpleasant scenarios, but fortunately none of them happened and instead, it was a lovely day out. The rest of this post then, is going to be taken up with photos from the show. I hope you enjoy them.

Quite appropriately, the most heavily featured breed in my photos is Highland Cattle. The amount of work it must take to have them clean and tidy for the ring is phenomenal. I chanced upon a young woman wielding a long hairdryer on hers and asked if I could take photos and she agreed.

I also loved the belted Galloways.

Though it must be a lot of work to present such beautifully turned out stock, the Highland Show is a real, family event. Again, I asked if I could take a photo, but here, the whole family were gathered around a calf that was being preened.

The Holsteins, for some reason, are shaved all over, before going in the ring. I watched someone carefully running their clippers along the spine, leaving some of the standing up hair, working to get a perfectly straight line, to give the best effect. I didn’t photograph that one, but it was interesting to compare the slimline, dairy cattle with the sturdy beef cattle. For obvious reasons, one of those is bred to not put on any flesh, but to direct energy into milk production, the other is bred to have as much meat as possible. I saw a breed that I hadn’t come across before – the British Blue – which has double muscles. I give you a baby Holstein, then a rump comparison, Jersey dairy cattle, vs a British Blue.


There were even more breeds of sheep. I don’t have so many photos of them, but I was struck by the fluffy cuteness of these black nose sheep.

And these fabulous horns.

There were ponies and heavy horses…

And right away, at the far end of the show, there were goats, alpacas and chickens.

All in all, checking out all the animals was a very long walk and by the end of the day, I had covered twelve kilometers. I felt very pleased though, at having such a wonderful day out as part of my job. I hope you enjoyed the picture and I will see you all again next week.

Ayr and Back

Blog, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Travel, Vet, , , , , ,

After a pleasant weekend in Yorkshire, Andrew, Triar and I returned to Dumfries last Sunday, but I didn’t stay there long. I had booked a trip to Ayr to go out on a welfare cross-compliance visit with a colleague who needed support. I drove up and we worked on the paperwork together on Monday. The visit was planned for Tuesday and I wanted to have plenty of time to go through everything, but it was also good to catch up with some other Animal Health Officer colleagues I had worked with before in Stranraer.

I stayed in the Mercure Hotel, which was clean enough and had a decent breakfast, though the bed and pillow were so hard that I was surprised that I managed to get a reasonable night’s sleep. The British obsession with hard mattresses stopped making sense after a few years in Norway, where the mattresses are all soft and it feels like you are sleeping on a cloud.

I awoke in the morning to a cloudy day and a rather noisy friend outside my bedroom window. I confess I had been quite amused the night before to see a discarded half bottle of some unknown liquor on the flat roof outside my room. It’s so very Scottish to see that. With apologies to my Scottish friends, Scotland really does have a litter problem, as well as a huge penchant for drinking. The streaking of my window with bird poo might have been a hint, but I hadn’t really expected such a close encounter with a seagull.

This was just before I was about to go downstairs and I toyed with the idea of bringing back a slice of toast for the interloper, but out of respect for the hotel windows, I decided any more encouragement was not a good plan.

As this was also my second week on the Second Nature plan and I had pledged to do fifteen minutes exercise each morning, I decided to take a walk before breakfast. Though it’s not obvious from the photo above, if you squint at the area, over the rooftops, to the left of the tree my room did technically have a sea view, so I thought I would walk in that direction.

Wandering the town near the hotel to find a restaurant, the night before, I had been rather put off Ayr. The place had a run down air, though the Tempura restaurant (which Donna had recommended) was very nice, with lovely friendly staff. As I walked down towards the beach, I saw another side to it. While still run down, it was obvious as I walked down the wide street, with its substantial, terraced townhouses, now converted into solicitor’s offices and charity headquarters, that this had once been an attractive and prosperous place.

As I cleared the end of the houses, I saw a building that I knew, before I rounded the end of it to see the signs, that it would be called The Pavilion.

To my left, there was a huge swathe of flat green land with pathways crossing it. I thought of Triar and wished he was there.

The Scoopalicious Ice Cream company was another nudging reminder of the golden age of Scottish seaside, west coast towns. An ice cream shop run by an Italian family was another staple in all the resorts that the people of Glasgow escaped to.

There was a pleasant sunken garden…

And a fountain, complete with a fairly traditional traffic cone.

Though the sky was filled with clouds, the mountains of Arran were visible across the water of the wide bay as a reached the sea. To my left and right, there stretched a broad, sandy beach, and again, I found myself wishing Triar was here as he would love to run free across that vast expanse of sand.

I was tempted to venture down onto the sand, but time was limited. Turning back, I was unsurprised to see that The Pavilion was indeed called The Pavilion and was fronted with another southern, Scottish west coast tradition, some rather tired looking palm trees.

As I walked back up the road, I felt that odd sense of sadness and nostalgia such places bring me. Ayr and Largs were not part of my childhood, but many of those my age from Glasgow and other smaller west coast towns can remember visiting those places as children, when they were still popular holiday destinations. I found myself thinking I might come back sometime, for a weekend, and set Triar free on that beach to run.

The rest of my day was taken up with work. The welfare visit went well and I hope I left my colleague with a clearer view of how to carry out an inspection. Back in Dumfries, I have spent the rest of the week catching up with cases. I have written the first draft of a witness statement for a welfare case that might go to court and carried out a disease and cost risk assessment to allow one of my farmers with a TB breakdown to bring a new bull onto the farm.

We can’t go to Yorkshire this weekend as tomorrow, I will be working at the Highland Show. I spent yesterday reading the contingency plan for what we would do in the event of an outbreak of serious disease in the animals at the show. I understood the plans, but found myself hoping we wouldn’t have to implement them as it would be a huge undertaking, trying to sort animals, people and vehicles into groups that could leave and groups that couldn’t, with various stages in between involving gallons of disinfectant and chaotic queues.

I will finish with some photos from Blackbird Lane. There are cows in the fields now and different wildflowers growing in the hedges. The hawthorn bushes have lost their spiky, white blossom and are beginning to form berries, that for now are a muted, brownish red, but will become bright and red as the autumn nears.

Have a good week all.

Here and There, This and That

Food, Scotland, The Vet Who Came In from the Cold, Vet, , , , , , ,

One of the things I enjoy about working as a government vet is travelling to different places. It hasn’t happened yet, but at some point, I will be sent to do detached duty, where I can be sent anywhere in the UK to deal with any emerging notifiable disease. Even in my region though, I get around a bit. On Monday, I am going to Ayr to accompany a colleague on a welfare inspection. She has only been out to one such inspection so far and I’ve already done my three, so hopefully I can help her to do a good job.

I’m also going to be one of APHA’s vets at the Royal Highland Show next weekend, which is exciting. If nothing happens, it’ll be a lovely day out. It’s a long time since I’ve been, but it was always an enjoyable day out. If something happens that I have to deal with, it will be… interesting. Imagine how the day would change if we discover one of the animals is showing signs of foot and mouth. There are contingency plans, which I should get next week. I will make myself familiar with them and keep my fingers crossed that the most exciting thing to happen will be visiting the freshly cooked doughnut stand.

Not that I will be doing that. As I mentioned last week, I have been signed up to a weight loss program called Second Nature by the NHS. So far, it’s been very good. Its focus is on changing habits and not on counting calories, which is appealing to me. I can’t get on board with weighing out food for the rest of my life. It relies on encouraging exercise, eating more vegetables and cutting down on carbs, without cutting them out altogether.

I was meant to do lots of meal planning this past week, but bought pick and mix salad every day from my local supermarket, which handily is a ten minute walk from my office. In the evenings, Andrew and I have been using a delivery service called Hello Fresh. Both Anna and Donna recommended it, so we decided to give it a go. Each week, we select four meal plans, they deliver ready prepared ingredients, and we cook the food together when I get home from work. It’s been quite easy to modify the Hello Fresh meals to fit the Second Nature recommendations, so it’s all been very easy and I love not having to decide what to eat while standing in the supermarket.

I also signed up to an online service called Borrow My Doggy and this week, for the first time, someone new took Triar out for a walk. It did make me realise that he’s not the easiest dog to handle. He’s never been placid – quite the opposite. Also, I’ve not taught him very good manners on the lead.

It went off fine though. I’m hoping to find someone who would be able to take him at short notice if I have to go away unexpectedly for work, but I’m going to have to engage more to do that. I’ve just booked a holiday in November, so perhaps I need to concentrate my efforts more. Triar has never been in a kennel and I’m not sure I really want him to start now.

These are some photos from the bottom of my garden, which is running absolutely wild. The garden is full of insects and birds, which I love watching from my kitchen window. I made my way down the broken steps this week and was pleased to find that the overgrown roses have the same, wonderful scent that I remember from the roses in the garden when I was a child. So many these days seem not to have any aroma. “Stop and small the roses” is a good principle in life, I think. We’re down in Yorkshire for the weekend, so I’m going to start with a cup of coffee and take it from there. See you next week!