Джеймс Хэрриот - Every Living Thing

I looked at the little creature, wondering if I’d ever get used to seeing only one cat on that wall, but Ginny sitting by the fireside or on Helen’s knee was an impossible dream. “Yes, you’re right, but maybe I can do something. I’d just managed to make friends with Olly—I’m going to start on Ginny now.”

I knew I was taking on a long and maybe hopeless challenge because she had always been the more timid of the two, but I pursued my purpose with resolution. At mealtimes and whenever I had the opportunity, I presented myself outside the kitchen door, coaxing and wheedling, beckoning with my hand, but for a long time, though she accepted the food from me, she would not let me near her. Then, maybe she needed companionship so desperately that she felt she might even resort to me, because the day came when she did not back away but allowed me to touch her cheek with my finger as I had done with Olly.

After that, progress was slow but steady. From touching I moved week by week to stroking her cheek, then to gently rubbing her ears until finally I could run my hand the length of her body and tickle the root of her tail. From then on, undreamed-of familiarities gradually unfolded until she would not look at her food till she had paced up and down the wall-top again and again, arching herself in delight against my hand and brushing my shoulders with her body. Among these daily courtesies one of her favourite ploys was to press her nose against mine and stand there for several minutes looking into my eyes.

It was one morning several months later while Ginny and I were in this posture—she on the wall, touching noses with me, gazing into my eyes, drinking me in as though she thought I was rather wonderful and couldn’t quite get enough of me—when I heard a sound from behind me.

“I was just watching the veterinary surgeon at work,” Helen said softly.

“Happy work, too,” I said, not moving from my position, looking deeply into the green eyes, alight with friendship, fixed on mine from a few inches away. “I’ll have you know that this is one of my greatest triumphs.”

A Biography of James Herriot

James Herriot (1916–1995) was the pen name of James Alfred “Alf” Wight, an English veterinarian whose tales of veterinary practice and country life have delighted generations. Many of Herriot’s works were bestsellers and have been adapted for film and television. His stories rely on numerous autobiographical elements taken from his life in northern England’s Yorkshire County, and they depict a simple, rustic world deeply in touch with the cycles of nature.

Wight was born on October 3, 1916, in Sunderland, in the northeast corner of England. Shortly after his birth, his parents moved to Glasgow, Scotland, where his father worked as a shipbuilder and as a pianist in a local cinema. His mother was a seamstress and professional singer. At age twelve, Wight adopted his first pet, an Irish setter named Don. The bond he formed with his dog led to his interest in veterinary medicine.

Wight graduated from the Glasgow Veterinary College in 1939 at the age of twenty-three. After working briefly in Sunderland, the town where he was born, he moved to the town of Thisk in Yorkshire County, England, where he settled down. In Yorkshire, he met Joan Danbury, whom he married in 1941. The couple had two children. Son James Alexander, born 1943, would go on to become a vet and partner in his father’s practice, and daughter Rosemary, born 1947, became a family physician.

Though he’d always had literary ambitions, Wight got a late start as a professional writer. Starting a family, serving in the Royal Air Force during World War II, and then establishing his own busy veterinary practice all delayed his literary debut. In 1966 at the age of fifty, he finally began writing regularly with the encouragement of his wife. After trying his hand unsuccessfully in areas such as sportswriting, Wight found modest success with the publication of If Only They Could Talk in 1970 and It Shouldn’t Happen to a Vet in 1972. He adopted the pen name James Herriot because self-promotion for doctors and veterinarians was frowned upon in England at that time. In the United States, his first two books were combined by his New York publisher and released as All Creatures Great and Small (1972), the volume that would make the name James Herriot famous. Within a couple of years, All Creatures Great and Small had been adapted as a successful film starring Simon Ward and Anthony Hopkins and as a long-running BBC program.

Throughout the seventies, Wight released several writing collections in England as James Herriot. In the States, these volumes would be paired up and released under new titles as omnibuses, including All Things Bright and Beautiful (1974) and All Things Wise and Wonderful (1977). Wight declared his intentions to retire 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 (center row, left) matriculated at Glasgow Veterinary College in 1933, qualifying as a member of the Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons in 1939. While there, he played on the football team.

Wight at work with his son, James, who followed in his father’s footsteps, first training as a vet in Glasgow, then at the practice of Sinclair and Wight in Thirsk, England, and finally as an author, penning a biography of his father, The Real James Herriot , which was published in 2000.

Wight with his two favorite driving buddies, Hector, a Jack Russell terrier, and Dan, a Black Labrador. He dedicated his book All Things Wise and Wonderful “To my dogs, Hector and Dan, faithful companions of the daily round.” (Photo courtesy of Life Magazine .)

Wight and his wife, Joan, with Hector and Dan. Joan was as fond of the dogs as her husband was. (Photo courtesy of Daily Express .)

Wight with his dog Bodie. After the deaths of Hector and Dan, who passed away within a year of each other, Wight was hesitant to get another dog. But soon his car rides began to feel lonely, and when a litter of Border Terriers was born nearby, Bodie joined the Wight household.