THE very best thing about this veterinary malarkey, (sorry, I mean this very important, super serious veterinary job), is you never know what is going to happen next.

And the very worst thing about it is, you never know what is going to happen next. Take a normal Tuesday night; a 'routine' evening surgery (if there actually is such a thing!) after a long, arduous, sometimes emotional day. It is coming to a delightfully timely close and your last patient seems to be, on face value at least, a simple task.

The waiting room message blinking on my computer screen says, in an understated manner, 'clip claws'. Ah! I can do this! Five years of university study, thirty-nine years of veterinary practice and countless hours of continuing professional development have honed my claw clipping skills to near epic standards. Even though I say it myself. I will be home in no time!

But, as I said earlier, you never know what is going to happen next. This isn't a normal cat. This isn’t a fun loving, playful pussy that decorates your sofa and eats daintily from a china saucer. This is a recently rescued 'feral'.

First, I need to get him out the semi-derelict wicker basket into which he has been unceremoniously stuffed. Surely all that experience will help! But no. Lashing claws and bared teeth are great inhibitors of a quick, easy job and so plan B was required. This involves unhinging the door of the cat carrier and wrapping the seething, writhing mass contained therein in a blanket.

Thus a nurse can safely assist with holding without a subsequent visit to our local A & E department. But to no avail. Angry cats are capable of damaging the people around them and hurting themselves, so Plan C; sedation was called for if the razor sharp talons were to be successfully and safely reduced.

Funny how a two minute job can turn into a major drama that extends well into dinner time!

Meanwhile, in an adjoining consulting room, a whelping bitch has arrived and her pained eyes tell us she is in trouble. Ultrasound scanning and quick, accurate blood progesterone testing allow us to make better decisions these days about whether a Caesarean section is indicated.

Scanning can allow assessment of stress in the foetus, simply by counting heartbeats, and low pregnancy hormone levels assure us that the foetus is mature enough to breathe once the safety of the womb has been left.

This time we were in no doubt. Pretty quickly, the expectant mum was anaesthetised and five puppies surgically delivered. These were placed in an incubator while the procedure was completed and then helped to take that all important first suckle before they left the building.

All well and good eh? My tummy might have been rumbling and my dinner slowly, inexorably drying out in the oven, but there are few sights as satisfying as watching a pup latch onto a teat and gulp down colostrum. Or as rewarding as clipping an intransigent cat's toenails in complete safety! Whatever is going to happen next?