We spent fifteen days in Chavin – nutritious and happy days, despite our Juana-worry. The second veterinario was an Indian campesino mellifluously named Felesforo Cadillo Siguenas – Foro to his friends. He cheerfully admitted that he has no veterinario’s certificate but claimed to know more about equine ailments than his rival. He certainly seemed to us both more expert and more caring. At once he confirmed that the patient’s legs were sound, as we had hoped and believed, yet despite daily examinations he was unable to diagnose the trouble until 16 October. He then detected a foot abscess and hastened off to borrow a butcher’s saw. I held Juana while he sawed halfway through her hoof, an operation which took seventeen long minutes. Foro worked very gently, his broad bronze face wrinkled with sympathy, all the time making soothing Quechua noises. He remarked on how strangely docile Juana was and we agreed that animals always know when they are being ‘hurt to help’. But towards the end, as the pain worsened, she reared a few times, pawing the air. By then however I was feeling so relieved on her behalf that I wouldn’t have cared had she trampled on me. We squeezed out more than a pint of vile pus, then came water and blood. She might have died but for Foro, since all this poison was lethally contained by the hoof. At home she would immediately have received a series of high-powered anti-biotic injections; here she was given only a perfunctory wipe with a dirty damp cloth and a lot of extra love.
Next morning the patient looked happier than she had done for a fortnight. Our spirits soared: crisis over. From then on we put her out to graze every day in a level five-acre Alf field just above the river bank; this field belonged to the hotel-owner and had recently been cut, but there was more than enough short Alf left to keep Juana happy.
By 19 October there was no trace of a limp, to our astonishment. But Foro wasn’t surprised – “She is young and healthy and with the badness gone there is only a small wound to heal”. Rachel said afterwards, “Small wound indeed! When her foot was nearly cut off!”
On 20 October Rachel rode Juana at a walk from the hotel to her pasture beyond the Plaza – and back again in the evening. As she never once stumbled, or seemed in any discomfort, Foro suggested a longer test next day. So Rachel took her for a bareback two-mile trot along the wide grass verge of the road to San Marcos. She moved beautifully and seemed actually to enjoy her outing. Rachel is sure that she missed us when left alone all day in her big field – which may be true. Mules are half donkeys and sociable in proportion. Foro then announced that she should be ready for shoeing on the 25th and 150 soles bought us a set of shoes from our hotel proprietor; hot shoeing is unknown here.