Cats are connoisseurs of comfort.

Dogs like to obey. It gives them security.

I will write another book if I feel like it.

No animal is a better judge of comfort than a cat.

They can't find my house now because I keep it very quiet where I live.

I could do terrible things to people who dump unwanted animals by the roadside.

For years I used to bore my wife over lunch with stories about funny incidents.

If a farmer calls me to a sick animal, he couldn't care less if I were George Bernard Shaw.

And the peace which I always found in the silence and emptiness of the moors filled me utterly

I seem to have spent a good part of my life - probably too much – in just standing and staring.

I became a connoisseur of that nasty thud a manuscript makes when it comes through the letter box.

I think it was the fact that I liked it so much that made the writing just come out of me automatically.

If I had been a little dog I'd have gone leaping and gambolling around the room wagging my tail furiously.

A farmer once told me one of the greatest luxuries of his life was to wake up early only to go back to sleep again.

If having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans.

I wish people would realize that animals are totally dependent on us, helpless, like children, a trust that is put upon us.

If you decide to become a veterinary surgeon you will never grow rich, but you will have a life of endless interest and variety.

I was helped by having a verbatim memory of what happened years ago, even if I can't remember what happened a couple of days ago.

I have felt cats rubbing their faces against mine and touching my cheek with claws carefully sheathed. These things, to me, are expressions of love.

I love writing about my job because I loved it, and it was a particularly interesting one when I was a young man. It was like holidays with pay to me.

I hope to make people realize how totally helpless animals are, how dependent on us, trusting as a child must that we will be kind and take care of their needs.

Animals are unpredictable things, and so our life is unpredictable. It's a long tale of little triumphs and disasters and you've got to really like it to stick it.

It was Sunday morning (one a.m.), a not unusual time for some farmers, after a late Saturday night, to have a look round their stock and decide to send for the vet.

There was no last animal I treated. When young farm lads started to help me over the gate into a field or a pigpen, to make sure the old fellow wouldn't fall, I started to consider retiring.

At times it seemed unfair that I should be paid for my work; for driving out in the early morning with the fields glittering under the first pale sunshine and the wisps of mist still hanging on the high tops.

That quotation about not having time to stand and stare has never applied to me. I seem to have spent a good part of my life - probably too much - in just standing and staring and I was at it again this morning.

I am never at my best in the early morning, especially a cold morning in the Yorkshire spring with a piercing March wind sweeping down from the fells, finding its way inside my clothing, nipping at my nose and ears.

Over the years I knew her she always looked at me like that - as though I was a quite pleasant but amusing object - and it always did the same thing to me. It's difficult to put into words but perhaps I can best describe it by saying that if I had been a little dog I'd have gone leaping and gambolling around the room wagging my tail furiously.

If having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans. I hope to make people realize how totally helpless animals are, how dependent on us, trusting as a child must that we will be kind and take care of their needs ...[they] are an obligation put on us, a responsibility we have no right to neglect, nor to violate by cruelty.

I think it was the beginning of Mrs. Bond's unquestioning faith in me when she saw me quickly enveloping the cat till all you could see of him was a small black and white head protruding from an immovable cocoon of cloth. He and i were now facing each other, more or less eyeball to eyeball, and George couldn't do a thing about it. As i say, I rather pride myself on this little expertise, and even today my veterinary colleagues have been known to remark, "Old Herriot may be limited in many respects, but by God he can wrap a cat.

And there was that letter from the Bramleys—that really made me feel good. You don’t find people like the Bramleys now; radio, television and the motorcar have carried the outside world into the most isolated places so that the simple people you used to meet on the lonely farms are rapidly becoming like people anywhere else. There are still a few left, of course—old folk who cling to the ways of their fathers and when I come across any of them I like to make some excuse to sit down and talk with them and listen to the old Yorkshire words and expressions which have almost disappeared.

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