Rubber-gloved to the armpits, vet Stuart Skirving disappears under the back end of a heavily sedated and swaying horse and fiddles about.

Gelding Bailey, although practically asleep at the end of his lead rope, gives a noticeable jerk and the vet emerges triumphant.

"That's the biggest I've ever seen," exclaims the vet, proudly displaying a large waxy object on his gloved palm. "You'll be able to pee better now mate."

Extracting a 'bean', or a lump of hardened smegma from a horse's penis, is the kind of job only a country vet can get excited about.

A bean, or hardened smegma extracted from a horse penis. ( ABC South East SA: Kate Hill )

At Gambier Vets, a large practice in South Australia's south-east, husband and wife vet duo Rebel and Stuart Skirving never know what emergency or creature will pop up in the daily appointment book.

A wombat off his food, a cat with a blocked bladder, and pigs with pneumonia are all on today's list, along with the nuts and bolts of daily vet work — desexing, vaccinations and consultations.

A complex desex

Today's most complex case involves young female kelpie Sheebah, in for spaying. Although it's a routine procedure Ms Skirving has performed thousands of times, this dog will be no easy operation.

Twice before, Sheebah's heart rate has dropped dangerously under anaesthetic and vets have had to put off her surgery.

Today, the dog is being monitored on a state-of-the-art anaesthetic monitoring machine to ensure she's not 'too light', which could mean she wakes up under anaesthetic.

Third time lucky for Sheebah, a young kelpie in for spaying. ( ABC South East SA: Kate Hill )

The dog delivers an ominously dirty look sideways at Rebel as the vet tries to inject a pre-med sedative.

As a preventative measure, Rebel slips a muzzle on her to protect both her and the assistant holding the dog.

The words "she's never bitten anyone" are treated with a certain touch of irony today, considering Rebel's weekend battle scars.

A cat with paralysed hind limbs rushed to the clinic for emergency treatment had decided the vet's digits were fair game.

"Without warning, the cat sunk its teeth into the fleshy part of my hand right up to its gum line," she said.

Suddenly, the vet was the one dripping blood all over the surgery floor.

"Every day is different," says vet Rebel Skirving. ( ABC South East SA: Kate Hill )

After euthanasing the cat due to its injuries and dealing with another emergency case, it was 2:00am. Although her arm was aching and sore, Rebel chose a few hours' sleep instead of a doctors opinion.

But in the morning, the throbbing bite site was looking grim and there were angry red lines spiralling up her arm.

Her doctor sent her straight off to hospital where she was told she had developed septicaemia, or blood poisoning.

After a short stint on the IV, duty called and Rebel discharged herself to go and look after her animal patients with a little help from her children and one thoroughly amused husband.

"After 16 years as a vet, it was the first time an animal had put me in hospital," she said.

A one-eyed pug

Uno the one-eyed pug gets his nails trimmed. ( ABC South East SA: Kate Hill )

Today, a steady procession of canines are streaming into the clinic. Two elderly father and son pugs, Sam and Uno, come in for their six-week 'mani-pedi'.

In some dogs, it's easy to confuse the tough nail with the highly sensitive nail bed and clip too far in, hence the reason for their regular visits.

Uno, who has broken his hip twice and is minus one eye, is nicknamed the $9,000 dog by his owner Beverley as they have spent so much money on him during his nine years of life.

"At one stage he even had his own credit card," she quips.

Racing greyhound Mike comes in for draining of his wound. ( ABC South East SA: Kate Hill )

Rebel drains a vast pool of seroma from a large wound on the side of prize-winning racing greyhound Mike, who takes the needle in his side without so much as a whimper.

Although this owner is a regular, the Skirvings have noticed a definite rise in the number of owners bringing their racing dogs in for treatment during the past year, after the industry was rocked by the live-baiting scandal last year.

One reason may be due to Greyhound Racing South Australia, which has introduced a Track Injury Surgery Rebate Scheme, which reimburses 80 per cent of surgery costs for injuries sustained in the running of races.

In further good news for ex-racers, those injured greyhounds in the scheme are given priority entry into the Greyhound Adoption Program after their rehabilitation.

Companion and supersize pets

Purebred toy poodles Mocha and Mia are led into the examination room with Marilyn Gribble and her daughter Heidi.

Mocha the toy poodle gets an examination. ( ABC South East SA: Kate Hill )

As Ms Skirving examines them, she listens patiently as Marilyn explains how the dogs have not left her side after Graham, her husband of 48 years, died suddenly last year.

"They follow me everywhere," she tells the vet. "I think they're protecting me and watching that I am okay."

"They're not just dogs or companions. They are family."

The position of many animals in society, be it a horse, rabbit or cat, is vastly undervalued in many cases, the vet believes.

"If that animal is someone's companion, there is so much more to that animal than being just a pet," Ms Skirving said.

"It's someone's life. Those animals have personality and character and they hold a lot of emotional significance to people."

Impervious to such matters, Mocha lifts his leg and slyly pees on the table leg.

Around two or three dogs a day are desexed at the surgery. ( ABC South East SA: Kate Hill )

Of course, then there are those owners who spoil their companion animals a little too much, one of Ms Skirving's bugbears.

"Obesity is the most common form of neglect I see," she said.

Just like their human counterparts, supersize pets can suffer from serious health problems such as heart, liver and kidney complaints, diabetes and a reduced life span.

Not surprisingly, the incidence of obesity in pets gets higher the fatter their owners are and Rebel said most people are not keen to hear they are the reason for their pet's widening proportions.

"I tell them overfeeding them is just as detrimental as underfeeding."

Blood, guts and gore

On a mild and sunny Sunday afternoon, a farmer snaps a few shots of a blood-spattered Rebel and fellow vet Teagan sitting in a paddock. Rebel is pulling bits of a dead calf from a cow and Teagan is dealing with a prolapsed uterus in another cow.

Deciding to introduce their Facebook followers to the delights of a 'fetotomy', a fancy word for cutting up a dead calf inside a cow, Ms Skirving said she was surprised to see the graphic images become one of their most popular posts.

The Skirvings have never shied away from showing those keen to see an accurate and honest look at daily vet life.

"You need a very good washing machine," vet Rebel Skirving says. ( ABC South East SA: Kate Hill )

Many a starry-eyed young student has come to the clinic on work experience and has been shocked by the amount of "blood and guts and vomit and diarrhoea" the vets deal with on a daily basis.

"I like to be really honest with them about what to expect. There is a lot of cleaning involved," she said.

"Especially being a country vet, you need a lot of changes of clothes and you need a very good washing machine," she laughs.

"It's mucky and filthy and smelly, but by the same token rewarding and challenging."

Stuart Skirving, who was once told to "stick to animals" by a doctor after suggesting that a client's broken foot was not actually broken, takes particular delight in grossing people out.

"If he gets to deal with a big abscess that explodes, he loves it," Ms Skirving said.

Love and bad smells

It takes a strong relationship to endure the odd smells that a vet brings home and it is here where Rebel and Stuart Skirving count themselves lucky they've married into the profession.

The awful smell that lingers after dissecting dead calves in utero is particularly soap-resistant, Ms Skirving says ruefully, but her husband understands.

"When you come home smelling like something terrible and rotten, he's not offended, because it has probably only been a few days earlier since he came home smelling the same," she said.

The pair met while studying — a "first-year vet school romance" as Ms Skirving dubs it.

Twenty years later, their flock includes three children, a dog called Mo, 40 bantam chooks, 20 breeding cows and a bull.

"If you take an eyeball in a jar to a class of kids, it is amazing how many of them are genuinely intrigued to have a look," Ms Skirving says.

The pair are often invited to career days or schools and have a golden tool in their vet arsenal — the surgery's pathology collection of curiosities.

The surgery's pathology collection includes bladder stones, cancerous lumps and aborted foetuses. ( ABC South East SA: Kate Hill )

The strange assortment of objects floating in formalin-filled jars includes maggots, cancerous lumps, bladder stones, an aborted kitten, and malformed foetuses.

Among the horrified faces, a junior vet-in-the-making is quickly spotted.

"Some are fascinated, some are revolted," said Ms Skirving, laughing.

Rex's legacy

As the day ends, Sheebah is recovering nicely from her operation, Sam and Uno have gone home freshly manicured, and Bailey's genital offering has been much admired and added to the collection.

As the phone stops ringing and the plaintive howls in the recovery room quiet for a moment, Ms Skirving is able to reach for her ever-present coffee flask and tell a story.

Although vets aren't supposed to have favourites, there's always one animal, owner or tale that grabs your heart and sticks fast.

Rebel monitors Sheebah's heart rate on an ECG machine. ( ABC South East SA: Kate Hill )

Rex was a feisty wire-haired Jack Russell who had been coming to the clinic for more than a decade, a much loved 'only dog' of a couple.

"He was certainly a character around the clinic and we developed a stronger and stronger bond with the dog and his owners," she said.

As vaccinations and health checks on a young Rex gave way to illnesses and age-related injuries, the day came when Ms Skirving had to explain there was no more that could be done to keep the elderly and cancer-stricken dog alive.

Ms Skirving says the day Rex was euthanased was "heart wrenching" for both her and the owners.

A short time later, a gift from the couple.

They donated a large sum of money to buy a state-of-the-art anaesthetic monitoring machine for the clinic, vital life-saving equipment to be used to help other pets.

It was a thank you for the many years of looking after their Rex.

Enjoyed this story? The country vet series continues on June 7 on ABC South East.