The German James Herriot
I am a big fan of the random adventure phenomena. While visiting a country I like to do things off the beaten path. And so when the chance came up to go around with German country vet for the day I jumped at it. I realize that watching cows be inseminated isn’t how the average German tourist would spend his morning, but that’s what I liked about it.
The vet was Papa (Mario) Peitch. He and his wife were very graciously letting me stay with them for a few days. And though neither of them felt very comfortable with their English, we managed to communicate pretty well. In fact I even managed to crack a few jokes and Mario did as well. So at least we had a good time.
When I woke up the morning slated as “the vet-day” I wasn’t sure what to expect. After all, this really was the countryside, and I was in Germany. But I somewhat thought it’d be similar to the stories and experiences of James Herriot. And, as far as I’m concerned, it really was. If, albeit, much more gross.
The very first patient of the morning was a cow who had recently birthed a calf. Because she had birthed everything down there was… um… all loosened up shall we say, and her bladder had accidentally popped out. I’ve never seen an inverted bladder before, and I don’t fancy seeing it again. It was a bright red bubble a little larger then a football (by that I mean a soccer ball). And the process for putting it back in was simple enough. Mario merely had to squish it and shove it in. And this is where my stomach turned….
I watched Mario grab it and squeeze, and this is when I realized that it was essentially a big sack of shit and piss. Now I use the vulgar form of the word there because the more flowery words like excrement or dropping go nowhere near describing the sordid sight as Mario would wring it out with the fluids spew everywhere. He was thankfully wearing an apron-like-cover but it was just drenched with desecration. It actually took him a minute or two to squeeze and push everything back in like it was some vile sponge. I stood there mouth agape thinking that it was possibly the second most disgusting thing I’ve ever experienced. Then it popped back out and he had to mash it back in and then pin up the cow with construction-nail sized sutures.
Thankfully the rest of the morning wasn’t as bad. We treated a heartbreakingly-sad-looking calf who had influenza and wheezed when she’d breath, inseminated 5 different cows, gave one Bull a calcium transfusion. and much more. It was actually really nice. All the farmers thought I was doing my practicum (one of the only words I understood them saying) and treated me well. Plus I realized for the first time in my life just how cute calves can be.
As we headed home I was proud of myself for being able to deduce what was wrong with the different animals. I thought maybe I could have been a vet…. but then I remembered the bladder ball… Surprisingly however this though didn’t spoil my lunch. When we got back home Mamma Peitch had made a huge meal. (In Germany your biggest meal is lunch, dinner is more of a snack.) She, as seems to be the case of all the German females I met, was attempting to get me to put on some weight.
After lunch we all went to see the family horse. I even got to ride him for a bit. It ended up being one of my favorite days in Germany.
March 8th, 2008 at 9:44 am
My mother’s cousin was the vet in Whitby, England, and I spent three days with him when I was in my early twenties. Two thirds of the time was spent in driving between farms in the Esk valley. The thing that was most vivid was the smell of the cow’s afterbirth; I have never since smelt anything quite so pungent and repulsive and the most wonderful thing was to see the speed of recovery of a cow from milk fever (she is in dool-alley - completely incapable of rational movement) when Jimmy injected the cow with the necessary medicine. Unforgettable scenes, but I couldn’t do it as an occupation: I’m far too squeamish.