In other news, it's exactly eight months until my wedding.
If I got pregnant now, I wouldn't have a bastard child...hmm.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Second - Be Quiet
The birth of a foal is a wonderful sight to behold. Due to her fear of predators, the wild mare finds a quiet spot and lays down to have her foal. The whole process is over in 10-15 minutes and the foal is up and nursing within the hour, ready at the mare's side to take off if danger approaches. So due to this rapid birth, one could see where things could go horribly wrong, how a mare could quickly loose her foal that she and her owners have invested the last 11 months in.
This is where I come in, the lone, young veterinarian, sitting at a farm, waiting for my phone to ring and the recording, "The foal is being born", to play, signaling me to run to the stall to assist the mare in whatever way I can. This whole process doesn't work however, if the mare is too anxious to eat, drink or stand still. This is the mare's way of crossing her legs and telling the baby to "Wait, wait! Don't come out, I'm not comfortable yet!" While this has never delayed the process for very long, anyone who's ever been in my position knows that she will make us all wait until she is ready.
So this leaves me on a rainy Saturday morning, trying to find the perfect combination of this mare, Rain, we shall call her. Rain arrived sharply at 2:00PM on an overcast Friday afternoon. After placing the foal alert, Rain was given her dinner, which she ate well and then promptly began her walking, round and round in her stall, screaming for another horse. Trying to ease her anxiety, I put her outside to stretch her legs and work out some of her nerves. She had other plans, which consisted of more screaming and pacing at the fence line. Able to see other horses did not seem to change her disposition. Knowing that introducing strange horses can be a disaster, I placed her back in her stall for the evening and went to bed.
The rain started sometime during the night, which left the ground spongy and ready to be turned into mud with the right persuasion. I attempted to feed Rain, but she would have none of the grain or hay that I lay out for her. Knowing that I had other chores to do, I placed her outside with her grain and started cleaning the stall. Again, Rain refused this middle ground and paced and cried, completely ignoring her feed.
I had had enough. Something had to change, she was too excited to be able to focus on the natural process that will be completed in the next several days. I had to find a baby sitter. And this is where my angel comes in.
My angel is a soon to be two year old Paint gelding named Bishop, and he is my pony. I bought him from the vet school, because I knew his personality would be wonderful. He's never completely disappointed me yet. He's taken on every new situation with some apprehension but with an open mind to allow for him to adapt in a way that only a true bombproof horse can. And as I reiterate, he's not even two yet, still a baby himself.
Thinking that Rain would be satisfied with a horse in just over the fence, I walked Bishop up to her, holding his lead tightly as they touched noses. Rain commenced to squealing and throwing her head, being "mare-ish". Bishop, however, remained a perfect gentleman, but quietly looking at me with a wide eye, asking what to do next. I walked him away and gave him a treat for being a good pony and attempted it again. Rain still, would have none of it.
Frustrated doesn't completely describe my feelings, I was defeated. Unsure of what to do next, I brought Bishop inside and placed him in the stall next to Rain, knowing this was the last card I had. Bishop has spent almost his whole life outside, so being in a stall can sometimes be a little unsettling for him. But I had to try it. I brought Rain in and to my dismay, she started to circle again. Exhaling, I ran my hands through my damp hair, unsure of what to do next. But then Rain stopped. She perked her ears and listened. There was someone next to her. She stuck her nose to the wall and sniffed several times. You could see the anxiety leave her as her eyes softened. She nickered at the horse next door, not realizing this was the same horse she had rejected across a fence. Bishop nickered back, and Rain relaxed again. She placed her head down and grabbed a mouthful of hay and started to chew.
Bishop may not completely comprehend what he accomplished for me. And I don't know if the alfalfa/corn treat I gave him makes up for the time he'll be spending in the stall, but hopefully the little pony take all of this in quietly, and accept his new role as baby sitter.
This is where I come in, the lone, young veterinarian, sitting at a farm, waiting for my phone to ring and the recording, "The foal is being born", to play, signaling me to run to the stall to assist the mare in whatever way I can. This whole process doesn't work however, if the mare is too anxious to eat, drink or stand still. This is the mare's way of crossing her legs and telling the baby to "Wait, wait! Don't come out, I'm not comfortable yet!" While this has never delayed the process for very long, anyone who's ever been in my position knows that she will make us all wait until she is ready.
 |
| Not "Rain", but a good representation. |
The rain started sometime during the night, which left the ground spongy and ready to be turned into mud with the right persuasion. I attempted to feed Rain, but she would have none of the grain or hay that I lay out for her. Knowing that I had other chores to do, I placed her outside with her grain and started cleaning the stall. Again, Rain refused this middle ground and paced and cried, completely ignoring her feed.
I had had enough. Something had to change, she was too excited to be able to focus on the natural process that will be completed in the next several days. I had to find a baby sitter. And this is where my angel comes in.
My angel is a soon to be two year old Paint gelding named Bishop, and he is my pony. I bought him from the vet school, because I knew his personality would be wonderful. He's never completely disappointed me yet. He's taken on every new situation with some apprehension but with an open mind to allow for him to adapt in a way that only a true bombproof horse can. And as I reiterate, he's not even two yet, still a baby himself. Thinking that Rain would be satisfied with a horse in just over the fence, I walked Bishop up to her, holding his lead tightly as they touched noses. Rain commenced to squealing and throwing her head, being "mare-ish". Bishop, however, remained a perfect gentleman, but quietly looking at me with a wide eye, asking what to do next. I walked him away and gave him a treat for being a good pony and attempted it again. Rain still, would have none of it.
Frustrated doesn't completely describe my feelings, I was defeated. Unsure of what to do next, I brought Bishop inside and placed him in the stall next to Rain, knowing this was the last card I had. Bishop has spent almost his whole life outside, so being in a stall can sometimes be a little unsettling for him. But I had to try it. I brought Rain in and to my dismay, she started to circle again. Exhaling, I ran my hands through my damp hair, unsure of what to do next. But then Rain stopped. She perked her ears and listened. There was someone next to her. She stuck her nose to the wall and sniffed several times. You could see the anxiety leave her as her eyes softened. She nickered at the horse next door, not realizing this was the same horse she had rejected across a fence. Bishop nickered back, and Rain relaxed again. She placed her head down and grabbed a mouthful of hay and started to chew.
Bishop may not completely comprehend what he accomplished for me. And I don't know if the alfalfa/corn treat I gave him makes up for the time he'll be spending in the stall, but hopefully the little pony take all of this in quietly, and accept his new role as baby sitter.
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