All language subtitles for 10 - In Whom We Trust_eng

- Mr Witchell.
- Hi, Mr Herriot.

- Not too late, am I?
- There's nowt for you to do here, I reckon.

I don't know.
Yesterday she stopped grazing.

Then this morning
I found her ailing.

- Any scouring?
- Aye, summat fierce.

Come on, whoa.

She were a grand young beast, too.

I don't think you should blame yourself,
if it's what I think it is.

There isn't anything we could have done.
You've seen the red spots?

And the haemorrhaging?

- I think she's been poisoned.
- Poisoned? Nay.

What by?

- There's your culprit.
- Bracken?

Yes, bracken. It's the worst kind of poison.
Most animals leave it alone.

One of them might
get a taste for it, eats it,

seemingly doing no harm to itself,
ends up like this.

It's never happened to me before. But,
like they say, there's always summat new.

It's good you're filling that gap.

Dang sheep keep hopping over
and knocking it down.

I'm gapping it up
until I can get it fixed proper.

- I'll give you a hand.
- Nay, you won't want to waste your time.

It's no trouble, Mr Witchell.

Damn! Blast these bloody nettles!

They'd try the patience of a saint.
Where's a dock leaf? Ah.

- (man) Mr Farnon?
- Yes?

- Mr Farnon?
- Yes, who's there? Who's calling?

Good Lord.
Here, I'm sorry to disturb you, Mr Farnon.

You're not disturbing me.
Fred, how are you?

I'm champion, thank you, but it's our
lsobel's donkey, you know, Tinker?

There's summat wrong wi' her foot.
Any road, I brought her in,

hoping you'll look at her
while I'm at mart, if that suits you?

Suits me, absolutely.
Where is Tinker?

I've put her in your shed.
Well, you seem to be hard at it out here.

The needs of the garden must always
give way to those of the client, Fred.

Well, I wouldn't want you to say one thing
and think another, Mr Farnon.

Still, look at the state of it.

Yes, I know.

- Isobel does all ours, you know.
- You're a lucky man, Fred.

And she says this is the month that makes
'em or breaks 'em. Gardens, I mean.

She's absolutely right.
It's a never-ending battle.

But it's one that must yield
to higher priorities.

Fred, come on.
Let's get on with it.

(Siegfried hums)

- I'll do that, Mr Witchell.
- It's all right. I reckon I'm not past it yet.

(hums)

You have left the rasp in the house,
Farnon. Black mark.

OK, Tinker, be patient for a moment.

- Hello.
- How's it going?

- Splendidly, splendidly.
- It's wonderful to see you tackling it.

It was getting to the point
where I couldn't bear to look at it.

- Look at what?
- The garden. You are working out there?

The garden? Not actually in the garden.
In the shed. Isobel Allan's donkey.

You promised that you would
start on the garden.

- Yes, I know I did…
- Made me swear to keep you at it.

So I did and so it shall be,
but Fred Allan…

Has given you the perfect opportunity
to shirk it.

It's just a temporary postponement, Helen.
What a marvellous smell.

- Don't change the subject, Siegfried.
- The garden shall be sorted.

What is that delicious aroma?

You have changed the subject. Well, it's
just a little something for James's lunch.

It's a divine fragrance, elusive yet familiar,
which can only be… what?

- Roast lamb.
- Roast lamb with rosemary. Lucky James.

James has missed a lot of meals lately, so
I thought I'd cook him something special.

I just hope he's back in time. I'm tired of
feeding James's missed meals to Bodie.

You spoil him, you know. Don't forget
a good husband's like a good gun dog.

A surfeit of kindness, and…
(blows raspberry) ..ruined.

Oh, what a pity. I was thinking you
were in need of a little spoiling today.

After your stint in the garden.

You're a hard woman, Mrs Herriot.

- (knock at door)
- Come in.

- Roddy Travers.
- Mrs Herriot.

Come in. Bring him too.

No, no. He prefers to stay outside.
Is that not so, Murphy?

I just thought I'd pay my respects,
seeing as how I was passing.

- Great heavens! The very man.
- Hello, Mr Farnon.

No need to ask what brought you to our
doorstep, Roddy. Fate, pure and simple.

Itchy feet's more the answer, Mr Farnon.
Itchy feet.

Which have brought you here
in answer to our most compelling need.

I know there are many calls on your time,

but I wonder if you could spare a tiny bit
for poor old Skeldale?

God knows there are a thousand jobs
that I've been meaning to tackle.

- Not to mention the garden.
- Most emphatically the garden.

- Roddy, can we count on you?
- I have a number ofjobs lined up already.

Splendid, Roddy.
Whenever you can fit it in. Marvellous.

- Best get a move on, then.
- Come on.

Tell me, have you got
your gardening gear?

(Siegfried) Look after yourself now.

Now then, old fellow.

Don't shake your ears at me.
You've eaten my knife.

Oh, it's nearly ready, Siegfried.

That's most odd.

Siegfried, it's ready.
I think we…

What's wrong?

I can't put my hand on my hoof knife. I
had it a moment ago. You haven't seen it?

Did you have it in the shed?

Yes, I'm positive I left it there
when I came in here to fetch my rasp.

- It's not there now?
- It's nowhere to be seen. It's very baffling.

I have the distinct impression that I left it
on the upturned bucket by the donkey.

Did I have it in my hand
when I came into the kitchen?

If you did, I didn't notice it. It'll turn up.
You can ponder the mystery over lunch.

- Is James back?
- Oh, no.

But that's no reason for
the rest of the world to go hungry, is it?

- If you say so, Helen.
- I do.

(plays whistle)

Roddy!

- How are you?
- Mr Herriot.

Oh, it's good to see you back.

I've seen a good few places
since I were last by.

But nae place sonsier than here
to come back to, I reckon.

So who's this?

Goes by the name of Murphy.

- A lurcher, like Jake.
- Aye. Lang-haired and all.

I reckon old Jake spoilt me
for any other class of a dog.

When his time came to walk that road,
the road I cannae hear his bark,

I never thought to have another.

Then, Sunday was a month ago,
I came across Murphy.

Lost your way, hadn't you, son?
Aye, a stray like myself.

So we teamed up.
Fellow travellers, you might say.

- He looks a real Gypsy.
- Aye.

A proper lurcher.
Ain't that so, Murphy?

And he travels in this, does he?

Like old Jake you mean?
You mind that, do you?

No, he's willing to walk, is Murphy.

Mind you, he does sleep in there.
Half that stuffs his bedding.

Well, it's a good idea.
You ought to patent it.

How long are you
going to be in these parts?

I reckon we'll be around
for a month of Sundays.

I promised to help Mr Farnon
with the garden.

We just called by there to say hello,
to pay our respects.

Yes, of course.
I bet he was pleased.

Pleasure to be of service.

Mind you, you look as though
you've been a might busy yourself.

I've got the blisters to prove it.

Look, I'd better be off, Roddy.
I'll see you soon, eh?

Aye.

Oh, dropped my hoof knife.

- It's all too easy to mislay things.
- Yes.

Yes, right.
Bye, Roddy.

- Sorry I'm late, darling.
- Siegfried and I had an entertaining lunch,

but you missed it.

Ah, the prodigal returns.

- Have you seen my hoof knife?
- What is wrong with Helen?

Oh, she was expecting you
for lunch, James, once again.

Come on. You know we cannot run
our working day like a railway timetable.

- Helen knows it too.
- Of course she does and she accepts it.

It's just that today
was a special lunch.

And if I may presume for a moment
on our long friendship…

- I want my lunch, not a lecture.
- No, no. James, it's not a lecture.

It's just a brotherly word in the ear
from someone who is not unacquainted

with that abiding mystery,
the heart of a woman.

A woman, James,
will accept everything

that the fumbling,
well-intentioned male fails to offer.

Except for one thing, James.
A woman will never, never learn

to accept being taken for granted.

- You think I take Helen for granted?
- It's what Helen thinks that matters.

Think of the labour that went to preparing
that meal, then what happens?

- You ate it.
- With indescribable pleasure, James.

What was it?

Better not tell you.

But since you ask, it was lamb chops
roasted with rosemary.

- Any left?
- You'll find the mute evidence

of well-gnawed bones
in the kitchen, James…

Thank you very much.

..together with your due proportion

Lovingly embraced
in the heat of the low oven.

Do you really think
we'd neglect your interest, James?

You get spruced while I dish it up.

- James! What's that in your hand?
- This is my hoof knife, Siegfried.

- May I?
- Yes.

I want you to think very carefully before
you answer this. Where did you get it?

- From here. You just saw me.
- No, no, no. Before that.

This is my hoof knife, James.

- What would it be doing in my pocket?
- Exactly.

- Uh, that's your hoof knife, Siegfried.
- Which I was using in the shed outside,

until suddenly it vanished.

That's very odd.
I spotted it on the road by the car.

- When?
- About half an hour ago.

- Roddy Travers is back.
- I know.

Coming from Witchell's I saw Roddy at the
side of the road, so I stopped for a chat.

That's where I found the knife.

- You're quite certain of that?
- Yes.

- Poor little thing.
- Easy, Mary. No sense…

No point in moving him unnecessarily.
I think we'll tackle the job out here.

Mrs Hawkins, can I trouble you
for the use of a nice clean towel, please?

Is he… I mean, will he be…

All in good time, Mrs Hawkins.
How about that towel?

All right.
And, Mr Hawkins,

if you'd be kind enough to shift those pots
from the corner of the wall there.

You stay right there, boy.

You stay right there.
There's a good fella.

Nice little hound you've got here.

He's not ours.
We look after him for t'kennels.

Oh, do you really?

- Is this all right?
- Yes, that's ideal.

Would you lay it on the wall?
And I'll bring… what's his name?

- Pagan.
- Pagan?

Come on, lad.
We'll make a Christian of you yet.

There we are.

I'll lay him down.
There's a good lad.

Don't worry,
it's never as bad as it looks.

- Are you ready for your litany of woes?
- Into the breach. Or hopefully not.

Mr Thornton, pig still not eating.
Mrs Wilshire, goat.

- Another suicide attempt?
- Still recovering. This is a follow-up visit.

- Witchell, sheep.
- What's wrong with them?

He didn't say.
He just said, "Nowt but middling."

He'd say that if the whole lot
were down with bubonic plague.

- Hope it's not bracken.
- Is that possible?

It's pretty rare for sheep to get bracken
poisoning. Still, better get out there.

Thank you.

Bye, darling. Oh, have I told you today
how wonderful you are?

- No, not yet. Did you intend to?
- Yes.

Every day you will be reminded
of how wonderful you are.

- So help you, God?
- Yes.

So you know I care
and nothing you do is taken for granted.

- Oh, dear. Won't you get a bit bored?
- Will you?

No, just as long as you're
a bit beastly to me now and then.

- You can depend on it. Bye.
- Bye-bye.

Hello, Roddy.

- Ah, Mr Herriot.
- You've got Roddy hard at work, then?

Aye, couldn't have come at a better time.
He always drops by when he's in t'district.

- He's worked for you before, has he?
- He's been coming a good few years now.

He works hard
and he's a bit of company.

- And you can't ask for more, I reckon.
- No.

Any road, them ewes of mine -

what do you reckon to 'em?

Well, let's have a look, shall we?

- As I thought, Mr Witchell. It's orf.
- Aye.

That's what I thought.
Damn nuisance.

And it's spread to the back.

This is a severe infection, Mr Witchell.

We don't want an epidemic
on our hands, do we?

So let's hope
you've spotted it in time.

Well? ls it?

Yes, I'm afraid it is.

Right, keep these ewes
separate from the rest.

Keep an eye on the flock
to see if any more go down.

And I'll give you a salve
which you apply twice a day. All right?

It's extremely contagious.

And not just to the sheep.

So scour your hands with disinfectant
any time you're near them.

All that's going to take time, veterinary.

And time is summat of a stranger to me,
tha knows.

I know, but it'll be time well spent
if we can nip it in the bud.

- And you have got Roddy here.
- Aye, that's a thought.

I have to examine the rest. If I come
tomorrow, can you have them gathered?

- If I get moving on it now, aye.
- Splendid.

I'll get the salve for you,
as soon as I've washed my hands.

- You can use the kitchen.
- Thank you.

There we are. Quite a neat little piece
of embroidery, even if I say so myself.

We're very grateful, Mr Farnon.

I'm pretty sure that barbed wire
was the culprit, you know.

You have some about the place,
have you?

Not really, no.

Ah, there you are, you see?
He's not as bad as he seems.

Course, he's lost a good deal of blood.
He's better already, really, isn't he?

There's a risk of infection,
but I'm confident he'll hold his own.

Do we have to put him
back in his kennel?

Provided it's warm and comfortable,
I don't see why not.

I have a big basket
that used to belong to our dog.

- I could put that in there for him.
- Good idea. If it's roomy enough.

- I'll go and get it ready for him.
- Right, let's bring him on down, shall we?

I take it Pagan's
from the Woodford Kennels, is he?

That's right, Mr Farnon. We like
to help out with a spot of hound walking.

- How did he come to be injured?
- Well…

- You didn't see it happen?
- Well, no.

So presumably it was off the premises,
since there's no barbed wire here?

- I suppose so, yeah.
- So obviously, wherever it was,

that's an area to avoid,
isn't it, Mr Hawkins?

Especially if you're
letting him off the lead.

Well, it didn't happen quite like that,
Mr Farnon.

Mary found him here in the garden
after he'd cut himself.

Do you mean to say
he was out of his run?

Yeah.

Have you checked
the catches are secure?

Yes, they're fine.
The thing is, well…

Mary does like to let him
stretch his legs now and then.

Only now and then.

And always supervised.

They're such energetic little beggars.

They seem to like nothing better
than to wander.

Yes, it's easy to forget that an animal
like Pagan, of course, is a pack hound.

Different kettle of fish entirely
from a domestic dog.

And, of course, you don't need me
to tell you that the trouble is

that a wandering hound
is precious little use to a working pack.

Well, let's get him settled down, eh?

Hello, Roddy.

Watch your step.

Oh, thanks.

Well, it's good you're here.
There's an awful lot needs doing.

Aye, well. I'm always happy to oblige
with any wee bits and bobs for old Sam.

I've got some ointment for his sheep.

Hang on a minute.

Yes, here we are.
Make sure he reads the instructions.

Aye, I will that.

And you remind Mr Farnon I'll be up
to see him one of these fine days.

Yes, of course.
Thanks, Roddy.

Come on, Murphy.
Out of the way.

Now, Miranda,
I think we can pronounce

Kate's ear infection officially cured.

- Lucy's ear infection, Mr Farnon.
- Hm?

Wasn't she called Kate
last time I saw her?

- She was, but that before I read that book.
- Book?

Lucy…
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe?

- You've read it too?
- It's one of the best stories ever written.

And do you mind
the change of name, Lucy?

No, she prefers it.

Well, you and Lucy and I
must compare notes one of these days

on The Lion, the Witch
and the Wardrobe.

"'What an extraordinary place,'
cried Lucy."

- "All those stone animals."
- I remember.

- Bye, Mr Farnon. Bye, Mr Herriot.
- Bye, Miranda.

- So you have read it?
- Well, of course I have, James.

Oh, ye of little faith.

- Haven't you?
- No, not yet.

Ever since it came out,
Jimmy's been telling me I should.

He's absolutely right.
Take the plunge, James.

- Have you seen my thermometer?
- Your thermometer? No, I haven't.

- I can't find it.
- Missing?

- I can't find it anywhere.
- Not the expensive one in the smart case?

Yes, I'm afraid so.
Oh, well. Never mind.

You lose a thermometer
and say "never mind"?

- I don't understand your cavalier attitude.
- It is only a thermometer.

It may be a small thing to you,
it may be a small thing in itself.

But to misplace one of one's instruments,
the very tools of one's trade?

There is an old saying, James,
trite, I dare say, but still terribly true:

"A place for everything
and everything in its…"

I take your point, absolutely.
But there is no real comparison.

My hoof knife was stolen,
whereas your thermometer…

- Roddy.
- What?

Roddy was at Witchell's yesterday and
that's when I last used the thermometer.

- Are you sure?
- Positive.

I finished with the ewes,
put the thermometer in my pocket,

went to wash my hands,
and when I came out

Roddy was ready
with my bag and the coat.

- And you didn't put it back in your bag?
- No, I'm positive.

No, not Roddy.

- No, I don't believe it either.
- But?

Bearing in mind my hoof knife
and the fact Roddy…

I don't believe Roddy took either of them.

What an extraordinary character
you are, James.

Such rocklike faith.

Not just Roddy.
I'd feel the same about any friend.

A friendship is a contract of affection and
support between human beings, isn't it?

And human beings, as we all know,
are never less than perfect.

We can't expect friends
to be perfect, Siegfried.

But honest, eh?

- Mr Herriot.
- Hello, Roddy.

Well, another of the creator's
fine little miracles, wouldn't you say?

- What is?
- The weather.

That's a miracle
I tend to take for granted.

- Never do that, Mr Herriot.
- No. Well, you got 'em gathered up then?

More or less. Apart from a couple
of lambs that's gone missing.

- Oh?
- Old Sam's away searching for them.

I'll deal with the infected ones.
Might be wise to leave Murphy out here.

Nae problem, Mr Herriot. He's right funny
with sheep, is old Murphy.

- Is he?
- Notice how he sits, wi' his back to them.

Oh, yes.

I cannae put my finger on it, but it's
something I've noticed since we got here.

The way he makes a point
of ignoring sheep like they're no real.

Like he was embarrassed
by the sight of them.

Well, perhaps his first owner
trained him to ignore sheep.

Could be.
I reckon it's new.

Old Sam's noticed it too.

If we contain the infection
we'll be all right.

Ah, good.
Old Sam will be pleased about that.

Hey.

Looks like he's found one of his lambs.

What the ruddy heck
do you make of that, then, veterinary?

- Been savaged.
- I know.

And there's another one of mine out there
had the same treatment.

- Dreadful.
- I'm right sorry for your loss, Sam.

Summat's been going for my stock
and I'm just not having it.

- Could have been a fox.
- Nae. With a lamb that size? Never.

This were dog's work. I've seen how they
go about their job. Nowt different here.

It's not that easy to tell, is it? lf the sheep
had been sick, a fox could have got it.

I know what I'm saying, veterinary.
It were a dog, a sheep killer.

And there's only one dog I know
has the run of my land.

- You cannae mean Murphy?
- I do.

That dog of yours acts right peculiar
when he's around my flock.

There's no call to bring Murphy
into it, Sam. You cannae be sure.

Maybe I can't,
but there's one thing I do know.

From now on, when I come up here,
I'm bringing my gun with me.

- Whatever you wish, Sam.
- So long as we know where we stand.

He'll be all right, Roddy,
when he's cooled down.

Better to say it
than think it, Mr Herriot.

- Excuse me.
- It's a serious business, isn't it, James?

And you must remember that Roddy's
lurcher came from God knows where.

He is perfectly sound with sheep.
Won't even look at them, apparently.

So Murphy displays all the virtues
of a nun in an opium den.

Talk of the devil.

Stay there, Murphy.

- 'Ey up, Roddy.
- Hello, Fred.

I hear old Sam's lost some lambs.

Aye.

Dog, were it?

Sam thinks so.

I wouldn't want summat like that
happening on my place, Roddy.

- It's not Murphy you're worried about?
- Aye, summat like that.

It'd be best if you left him somewhere else
while you mended my old sheep folds.

- Whatever you say, Fred.
- Look after thee sen, Roddy.

Aye, and you, Fred.

Evening, Mr Herriot, Mr Farnon.

- Well, Roddy, it's good to see you again.
- Roddy, do you want a drink?

No, but thanks just the same.

I wanted to have a word with you
about that work that needs doing.

The work's there, right enough.
Ready and waiting for you.

- You've finished at Witchell's, have you?
- Well, no exactly finished.

More in need of a change.
Would the morrow suit you, Mr Farnon?

- That would be perfect.
- In that case, I'll bid you good evening.

(Siegfried) Come on in, Roddy.
Make yourself at home.

Sit over there, that's it.

Help yourself to milk and sugar.

Garden's looking magnificent, James.

What is it, Roddy?

You'll recall what I said
about Murphy and sheep?

How he acts extra canny
when he's with them?

What do you reckon
would make a dog act like that?

Well, I don't pretend
to know the answer, Roddy.

If you're asking "is a dog capable
of killing a sheep", the answer is yes.

But is he capable of doing it and making
out he's a different class of a dog?

Really, Roddy. Lurchers do tend
to be highly intelligent creatures.

It's possible, if one developed
a solitary desire to kill sheep,

it could use that inborn intelligence
to conceal the fact,

but Murphy's canny behaviour around
sheep could mean precisely the opposite.

I mean, perhaps he was hard enough
schooled to let sheep well alone.

Well, it's a matter of trust, isn't it?

Do you think Murphy
is capable of killing a sheep?

Well, I'm asking the question.

If I cannae answer it myself straight out,

the answer must be…
aye, well…

Maybe he is.

When do you think
he can have the stitches out?

Well, it's looking very healthy.
All right, all right.

I could pop over and have those out the
day after tomorrow, if that's convenient?

Oh, yes, please. Can't wait
to have him back to his old self again.

Right.

We'll leave it at that,
shall we?

You going in?
Right, I'll bid you both goodbye, then.

Bye, Mr Farnon.

- Mr Farnon?
- Yes.

You haven't mentioned
Pagan's accident to the kennels?

No, I thought you'd prefer
to do that yourselves.

- Well, yes, we did.
- Good.

In fact, we told them the same day
Pagan cut himself, actually.

But there's no sense
in them hearing bad news twice, is there?

No, indeed.
Goodbye.

Goodbye, Mr Farnon.

(James) They're definitely on the mend.

(Sam) That ointment you gave me
is doing t'job.

- There's no sign of it in any of the others?
- No, I reckon I'm having a bit of luck.

I hear Roddy's working for you.

Oh, yes.
Handy man to have by your side.

Oh, you won't hear me deny that.

I suppose some folk reckon
I were over-hard on him.

- Well, do you think you were?
- Well, I had my reasons.

I'd seen that hound of his
nosing round the farm on his own.

- And beyond.
- Why didn't you tell him?

Well, that other lurcher hound of his
gave me no trouble,

- I didn't expect none from this one.
- You're convinced the dog's responsible?

It's the only dog apart from my own
that goes near them.

If it was a dog that killed them.

Oh, I'm convinced in my own mind,
veterinary. I know all the signs.

I can put two and two together
and see the signs are right.

I know sheep wiring is a rotten business,
but it's bad for people too.

You can see how it sets off friends
and neighbours against each other.

- It's nowt of my making.
- Any trouble since Roddy left?

No, but maybe that's because
I watch 'em so close.

Or maybe Murphy
had nothing to do with it.

I don't know
what the truth is, Mr Herriot.

But if I'm near and it happens again then
this is the only truth that counts at t'finish.

I've got to make a call, so I'm going to
leave everything in your capable hands.

You won't be needing me
much longer, then?

There's always plenty
for you to do here, Roddy.

Nothing that won't keep.
For this year, at any rate.

Getting the old itch in the feet again,
are you?

Aye. The call of the open road.

I'm thinking it's time to take a look
at what's round the next bend.

Not like you to move on
when there's still plenty of summer left.

All things considered,
I reckon it's maybe for the best.

You mustn't let that business with old
Sam Witchell get you down, you know.

I'll no deny it's spoiled things
for me a bit, Mr Farnon.

The way folk stare at Murphy and me
as though we're nae to be trusted.

And it's trust that makes my wee world
go round, you ken, Mr Farnon?

Yes, suspicion is a deadly poison, Roddy.

- Siegfried?
- Over here. Come out, James.

Come and look. What do you think?
It's wonderful to see order banish chaos.

Splendid.
Grand job, Roddy.

- I had a hand in it too, James.
- Yes, of course you did.

- Mind your backs.
- A Mr Hawkins telephoned.

They got a puppy from Woodford Kennels.
About the stitches due out today, was it?

- Can you put off the visit till tomorrow?
- Did he say why?

Only that they can't see you today.
Hope it doesn't upset your plans.

No, no, no,
we're going great guns out here. Hm.

- But?
- It's just that they seemed to be so keen…

Never mind, James,
come and have a look.

Where there was chaos,
order is now slowly establishing itself.

Oh, yes. Well, you haven't lost
the master's touch, I see.

Ah, thank you, James.

Aha.

Thought you'd escaped
your just desserts, did you?

- What?
- I spy an impudent little devil here,

who'll meet his fate…

just as soon as I can lay my hands
on my secateurs. Out of the way, James.

Sorry.

- Where the devil are they?
- Your secateurs?

Yes, I had them here a moment ago.
I put them down there.

- Roddy, have you got my secateurs?
- You had them yourself, Mr Farnon.

- I know. You didn't pick them up?
- Nae call to.

I've been dumping stuff
on the compost heap.

Secateurs can't just get up
and walk away by themselves.

Oi! Murphy!

Mr Farnon. Look.
I wondered what he was up to.

Trying to bury them under the beddin'.

So you're the culprit,
are you, Murphy?

I'm glad. Do you realise the very name
"Iurcher" derives from the term "to lurch",

which is still used
by some of the long dog fraternity?

Means taking things, doesn't it?

Indeed it does.

Let's see what the hell else
old Murphy's spirited away.

- Good God.
- Merciful heaven.

Look at it all.
I recognise that.

Right, James,
I fancy that is yours.

Good heavens, yes it is.
Thanks, Siegfried.

Right, my turn.

- Yours, I believe, Siegfried?
- Mine, Mr Herriot.

I didnae ken it was missing.

Now, then, Murphy.
What have you to say for yourself, eh?

He should open an antiques shop.

What am I bid for this rare
if somewhat chewed writing implement?

What are your bids for this
excellent example of a treble recorder

bearing the name of Dolmetsch,
no less?

Your bids, please, ladies and gentlemen,
for the next item.

A very rare example of the tail
of a recently deceased…

Sam says he's seen Murphy
wandering around on his own.

- I take your point, James…
- Siegfried.

Evening, Mr Herriot, Mr Farnon.
Sorry to trouble you again.

You're not troubling us.

Take a seat, Roddy.
Sit there, come on.

Now, what can we do for you?

Well, I've been giving some thought
as to what's to be done.

- Drink?
- No, thank you, Mr Herriot.

I'll just say what I have to say,
get it off my chest, and then I'll be off.

The thing is,

old Murphy here,

well, it cannae go on.

The truth of the matter is, there's
neither one of us can change our ways.

But I cannae do my work
with a dog that cannae be trusted.

I was…

I was going to ask you…

Would you…

You want us to put him down,
you mean?

Aye.

Roddy, are you sure
you've thought this out?

Nothing else for it, is there?

I can keep an eye on him
to stop him taking things.

- But if he cannae be trusted with sheep…
- Roddy…

I've made up my mind. If it's all the same
to you, I'll drop by tomorrow morning.

You will do it for him,
won't you?

As I say,

it has to be.

I'm very grateful.

Well, I must be off.

Tell Roddy, will you…

Mrs Hawkins?

Hello?

Hello?

- Mr Farnon.
- Oh, there you are.

Morning, Mrs Hawkins.
You got Pagan with you?

I'm afraid not, no.

We've bad news, Mr Farnon.

- Truth is, he's gone.
- You mean he's strayed?

Yeah. He was out here in the garden
with my wife.

- He just took off.
- Presumably you've tried to find him?

We've searched everywhere,
Mr Farnon.

It's hopeless.
He could be anywhere by now.

Have you reported his loss?

No. I'm afraid not.

How many times
has this happened before?

- Four times in all.
- But he's always come back.

I suppose this explains
why you cancelled my visit yesterday.

So you've been out all night?

Aye.

'Ey up.

Morning, Roddy.

- I'll explain what the form is…
- No.

It'll nae mean a thing to me,
Mr Herriot.

- You can just leave him here, if you like.
- No!

I'd like to be with him,
if it's all the same to you.

Come in, Roddy.

Just pop him on the table,
would you, please?

Thanks.
There's a good boy.

Aye.

He's a funny old chap
is Murphy, you know?

You get to know what they're thinking
after a while.

He's saying to himself:

"Now, then, Roddy,
what's going on here?"

"I ken right well what goes on
in the veterinary's, but…"

- "There's nothing the matter with me."
- He won't know anything, Roddy.

I promise.

This is the last thing
we wanted to happen, Mr Farnon.

It's not our way to deceive people.

But we're very attached to that dog.
If we'd told the kennels…

Yes, most kennels
have a very strict policy in these matters.

If a hound fails to match up as a working
animal, they usually have him destroyed.

If we told them now, might they not make
the best of a bad lot and let us have him?

I rather doubt it, Mrs Hawkins.
It's very rarely the case

that a hound from kennels
ends up as a pet.

Now, may I suggest
that you let them know about Pagan?

- They really should be told, you know.
- Yeah.

- Mr Farnon's right, love.
- No!

You've got to face up to it. Pagan belongs
to them. It's right that they should know.

- (engine revs)
- Is that Witchell?

I've come about that kennel dog of yours,
Mrs Hawkins.

- Have you found him?
- He's dead, Mrs Hawkins.

- What?
- I'm sorry.

I hate to shoot a dog,
but there was nowt else to do.

He were attacking my young sheep
at the field at the back of yours.

Good God.
I must get to a telephone.

(rings)

I'm sorry, Roddy.
I'll have to answer that.

Come on, come on.

Darrowby 385.

James, it's me.

James? Murphy. Murphy.
Have you done him in?

(James) Roddy!

Murphy is reprieved.

We don't need this at all.

- Mr Herriot…
- That was Mr Farnon on the phone.

A young beagle from the kennels was
farmed out to a hound-walking couple.

And that dog was the sheep killer.

Murphy had absolutely nothing to do
with it, did you, eh? Good boy. Come on.

You going to take him?

He's had enough of this place,
don't you reckon?

It's over now, Roddy.
That's the main thing.

We'll say goodbye now.
We'll be off, won't we, Murphy?

- Goodbye, Mr Farnon.
- Bye, Roddy.

- Goodbye, Mr Herriot.
- Bye, Roddy.

- Where the ruddy 'eck have you been?
- Oh, running about, Sam.

- What about that wall of mine?
- I thought that…

I know what you thought.
You thought wrong.

Now load that cart of yours
into that trailer. We've got work to do.

All right, Sam.

Go on, then.

Now, then, swing it round.
You look after the dog.

- James and I will go on the front.
- There we are.

Come on, then, James.
One, two, three, heave.

Hell of a heavy baby in that pram.

Get on up, you daft old thing.