The Supervet Noel Fitzpatrick: This smouldering surgeon and his poochy patients are enough to make you swoon

A confession: until this time last week I had not watched a single episode of The Supervet.

The cult of Professor Noel Fitzpatrick, so big that he’s had sell-out arena tours and reportedly counts the Queen as a fan, had entirely passed me by.

Was I put off veterinary-related shows by childhood viewings of Rolf Harris’s Animal Hospital? Possibly. Is this parallel spectacularly unfair on Supervet? Definitely.

But after a week of full immersion in the Fitzpatrick back catalogue (bionic tortoises, spinal surgery for dogs, a poisoned cat brought back from the brink — oh, my heart!) I can see what the fuss is all about. I can also see why so many of Fitzpatrick’s fans are women.

Deliciously, it even emerged last week (via Popbitch) that Fitzpatrick was reportedly the inspiration for the Britney Spears 2003 song Toxic (“I’m addicted to you/Don’t you know that you’re toxic?”, written by his ex-flame Cathy Dennis) so he appears to have broken human hearts while mending animal bones.

For the uninitiated (and truly, if I’ve learned anything this week, it’s never too late to start) The Supervet is a fly-on-the-wall series filmed in Fitzpatrick’s Godalming veterinary practice. He is a tall, sternly handsome Irish vet so dedicated that he often sleeps at work. Animals from all over the country are sent to Fitzpatrick for his ground-breaking orthopaedic and neurological procedures — in 2009 he became the first vet to give a cat bionic feet.

Fitzpatrick doesn’t talk about “owner and pet” but “parent and child” — something which I’m sure annoys the “it’s just a bloody dog” brigade but is hard to be cynical about when the motives of everyone involved seem so pure.

This is particularly true of sixty-something sisters Diane and Rosemary, who we meet in this opening episode of series 14. Their basset hound, Albert, had collapsed that morning and is unable to walk. Fitzpatrick thinks it’s a spinal issue and an X-ray confirms his fears — a vertebra is compressing Albert’s spinal cord and causing him immense pain. “He’s always had quite a sad face, we thought it was just his personality,” says Rosemary.

We also meet a four-year-old pug/ beagle cross called Barney whose leg has been mangled in a collision with a bus. Fitzpatrick recommends a complex two-step procedure involving a metal frame and implant. Most vets would simply amputate. Fitzpatrick is clearly not most vets.

The third case is Tracy and Lee’s labrador-cross puppy Gilly, who was accidentally stepped on by a family friend (presumably now off the Christmas card list) — a full shoulder replacement is recommended.

The trouble is, Fitzpatrick is the only vet in the world who can do one, and even he has only done four. It’s a common ethical dilemma of The Supervet. As the man himself puts it: “Just because you can do an operation doesn’t mean you necessarily should.”

In an interview last year with Emily Dean’s podcast Walking the Dog, he also pointed out that for many decades we have used animals for human medical research — isn’t it time we paid some of that back?

Whether or not you’re an animal lover, Fitzpatrick should be admired for his work. It also makes very good television.