An Era Ends: Nick Ryland. R.I.P.

We are in a period of such turbulent change. I have lost friends, and have been forced apart from my family. There has been so much hurt.

And now Nick’s passing has been yet another gut-punch. 

True, his death was not so much of a shock as he was, how can I put it, 'getting on in years'. And parts of him were gradually failing. He would have understood this more than most.

Despite this foreknowledge, his death has touched me profoundly.

He wasn’t family; he was at first a boss, then a partner and then, most important of all, a friend. And so much more.

Of all the people that have influenced my life, Nick comes right out at the top. More so than any other, including my own parents.

I first met him in the year of ’77, fresh out of vet college. I had just struggled through my finals and was desperate for work, as I was broke in both spirit and in bank balance.

He was to meet me at the station in Newport. How would I recognise him? He told me he would have a copy of the Times under his arm and a rose in his lapel. At that moment, I knew that here was someone with whom I could relate, someone with my kind of sense of humour... a rare thing indeed.

As his veterinary assistant, he taught me so much. As his partner we travelled through a contorted path that led us in conflict with banks, tax men and, often, clients. He did not suffer fools gladly, yet he absolutely ALWAYS had the animal’s welfare as his top concern.

We went through so much together. Many good times, but also many bad. Tears were shed.

Business is far from easy, especially for those that wish to help animal welfare. Yet he was always there to help me through so much stress.

Outstanding.

Many of our endeavours came to nought. We planned the first vet hospital in Wales, but were confounded by competition; unfair and destructive. But despite years of difficulties, I am proud to say that the practice we finally developed was, I am certain, amongst the best in the UK.

He introduced me to the world of vet nursing and the British Small Animal Veterinary Association, to which he voluntarily gave up so much of his time. I followed meekly in his footsteps.

There is no doubt that without Nick I would never have managed to launch the veterinary emergency service (the first in the UK) that ended up being so important to me and others, the template upon which all emergency clinics now use. 

His death has triggered so many memories. So many that it would fill many volumes.

Being a veterinary surgeon involves so many highs and so many lows. Nick was there as no other has been in my life to help through those lows.

No other.

The memories flood in. For instance: the time I had my first unexpected anaesthetic death. I was inconsolable. A dog pyometra (infected womb) operation had gone horribly wrong. There was no way I felt I could ever attempt such a thing again. That day he sent me home early. The next day, I arrived at the clinic, where he told me calmly that a pyometra was there waiting for me to operate on.

How many bosses would do something like that?

The time we did one of the first eye lens replacements in a dog, the wide range of orthopaedic equipment we bought knowing that it would never pay its way, the computers we used when DOS was but a dream, the nights on duty where our personal life had to be put to one side. Good times. Bad times. Never easy times. But times full of our love of animals and their care.

He gave me the freedom to follow my interests such as horse welfare and, finally, emergency medicine.

We have had so many good times over one of his constantly refilling whisky glasses. I shall forever regret having lost touch with him over the last few years, as my life has taken a different direction.

Nick, you will always remain central to my memories. Thank you for your selfless help.

I will miss you.

Deeply.


Phil Hyde