cure a bull with toothache

Cure a bull with toothache, by Neville Turner

I knew the bull would only be unconscious for 20 minutes and so I worked fast

For over 30 years, I worked 18 hours a day, six days a week. I wasn’t an investment banker but the local vet of Barnard Castle, a market town in the Yorkshire Dales. It wasn’t just a job but a way of life, and I loved every day of it until I retired in 2000.

I decided to become a vet at 17. I thought it would be amazing to drive around the Teesside countryside keeping an eye on the wildlife, so when I saw a job for a vet advertised in 1972, a few years after graduating from the University of Edinburgh, I jumped at it.

I loved bumping into my clients – most of whom were farmers – in the supermarket and having a natter, but most of all I loved working with animals. I had a particular soft spot for Luigi, an Italian Chianina bull I treated for a bad case of toothache.

The only solution was to remove his tooth, but he was so heavy (a ton and a half ), I needed to sedate him. I knew he would be unconscious for only 20 minutes due to his bulk, so I worked fast.

First, I tried to pull out Luigi’s bad tooth using my fingers but it wouldn’t budge. Then I noticed a long metal bar and a pile of bricks in the barn. I placed the iron bar against the tooth and told the farmer to hit the other end with a brick. Luckily, it did the job. It came out just as Luigi woke up.

Since then I’ve treated hundreds of other animals including alpacas, salamanders, even a peregrine falcon. One of my trickiest cases was a cow with six inches of electric fence stuck in her mouth and stomach – I had to open one of her four stomachs to unravel the wire.

My main challenge wasn’t the animals but the weather. I regularly got stranded in the snow, and found myself trudging around, looking for a telephone box. Once, I spent a day travelling through chest-deep snow to get to a cow that was having a difficult labour. Fortunately, she and her calf were in good health by the time I left the next day, when the snowstorm had passed.

The job of a vet has changed dramatically over the decades, particularly with advances in technology. By the time I retired, there were special X-ray and ultrasound machines for animals, neither of which we had when I started. But I love the fact I was always learning.

At times it was emotionally harrowing, especially when I had to put pets to sleep, but I always knew I was doing what was best for them, and looking back, there’s nothing I’d rather have done for a career. I still wonder how I’ve crammed so many wonderful experiences into one life.

Photograph by Christopher Nunn Neville Turner in the Yorkshire Dales, where he had his veterinary practice.