My favourite vet came to see Darcy and immediately put his finger on the problem.
Dusk was falling when he climbed out of his battered 4×4 in khaki shorts and crumpled T-shirt, sun-burned, muddy and sweaty from the day’s call-outs. He is a victim of his own brilliance, and the decades of experience that have made him invaluable. Everyone asks for him, and he tries to get to his favourite clients even though he ought to be retired.
It was 7.45 p.m. and after me he was heading for a traveller site in Croydon. He does not discriminate. He’s my kind of hero.
We had Darcy standing ready by the gate and immediately he dismissed the graze on her knee which was the only reason for the lameness I could find. He ran his hand down her back leg from one end to the other as I held her and the builder boyfriend watched.
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