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themselves to the group. However, in this case,Jason, the lecturer, having introduced himself and his seemingly endless lifetime achievements, simply glanced quickly up and down the lines, as everyone seemed to know everyone else already. When he came to one of the other women, he didn’t give her a chance to say a word. ‘Emma,’ he informed the crowd, ‘has the privilege of having joined ranks with Mike O’Dee and she’s here to take notes’, and he continued on, obviously not deeming her worthy of any further attention. I later discover that her name was, in fact, Lucy, and that she had qualified four years previously and, having spent several stud seasons in both hemispheres of the world, had then gone on to do a master’s in equine reproduction. When he came to me, Jason peered at his notes before looking up to ask, ‘And who are you here for?’
    I introduced myself and the name of the practice I worked for.
    â€˜Riverside Veterinary Clinic. Mixed practice is it?’ he asked disdainfully. ‘A few calls to the local piebald, is it? I suppose they’d look the same as a Friesian cow!’
    A great guffaw of laughter broke out among the ranks before he passed on to the next row.
    The topic for the morning was respiratory disease, so I tried to concentrate on the lecture and ignore my sense of alienation. The basic anatomy was followed by physiology , with nothing new to add. Then the eminent equine specialist moved on to his pet topic of video endoscopy. Video endoscopy consists of putting a horse on a treadmill , not unlike what you would see in your local gym and passing an endoscope, with a tiny camera, up the nostril ofthe horse and then down to various levels of the airways. With the endoscope in place, the horse is then put through its paces while a picture of the airway is displayed on a screen. For the first twenty or so slides of some horse’s larynx, I was engrossed. Then my mind began to wander. What, I wondered, would Larry Byrne’s mare’s larynx look like – the one who had a history of grinding to a halt a half mile or so into strenuous exercise? Or better still, Pauline Thomson’s half-breed, who could jump anything put in front of her, but made a most peculiar noise while doing so. And then I realised that I would never know, as, to the best of my knowledge, at the time there wasn’t a single video endoscope facility in the entire country. As far as I knew, all the vets attending the course were Irish and yet they were all nodding knowingly at the slide show. It was starting to bug me, so that by the time the lecture came to an end, and questions were invited, I tentatively raised my hand.
    Jason didn’t look too pleased to see my hand and he took every other question in the room before he came to me.
    â€˜Sorry,’ I enquired, ‘but where is the nearest endoscope facility?’
    â€˜Oh, don’t be bothering your head about it, dear,’ he replied blithely. ‘A stethoscope is the only sort of a scope you’ll ever get to use with your piebalds.’
    Although amidst the laughter that followed, one or two of the delegates did throw me a sympathetic glance, I noticed that no one mentioned where the nearest facility was.
    With the questions and answers over, a tea-break was announced. We all made our way down the carpetedstairway to a cosy lounge where three tables were placed around an open fire, each set for eight people.
    At least, I though to myself, it would be some consolation to have a decent bit of food without singing nursery rhymes or having it slopped all over me. The homemade scones and Danish pastries justified themselves along with the steaming pots of tea and coffee that were laid out at the top of the room. In turn, we all filled a cup and loaded a plate from the woven baskets. The first few delegates sat down around the table nearest to the fire, filling the eight seats at that table. As I