Horses in Love, continued
...
Should we induce labor now to prevent her
foal from getting big enough to force a cesarean delivery? The
vet said Tiger Girl's swollen udder still had no milk. If he
were to induce labor, the foal would be born without the first
milk -- colostrum -- which would give it the best chance of survival.
He recommended that we wait two more weeks and reevaluate. He
assured me it would be at least a week before she foaled.
Tiger Girl, very pregnant, and apparently
well short of her second birthday. Photo courtesy Carolyn Bertin.
Three days later at dusk, as usual I checked
on Tiger Girl. She was lounging under the globe willows, looking
a bit out of sorts. Her udder was twice the size it had been
only a few hours before. Her teats glistened with wax. Her milk
had come in.
I checked on her at 11 PM. She still lounged
under the willows, seeming focused and distant. No hello nicker,
but no obvious sign of labor.
I next checked her at 2 AM. She was nowhere
in her pen. Tiger Girl must have jumped a 4 1/2 foot fence topped
with electric wire while big with foal.
I called for her, but heard no answering
nicker. In the moonless dark of the high plains, it was almost
hopeless to find a mare who didn't want to be seen and had some
eight acres in which to hide. After searching awhile with a flashlight,
I gave up and went to sleep.
A little after 4 AM, I woke to the faint
beginnings of dawn. I went out to search again. Was she in labor?
Did I need to call the vet?
I found her near the top of our highest
hill near another mare who had foaled just two days before. The
flashlight revealed Tiger Girl licking a wet, tiny, really tiny
foal curled on the ground. He was moon gold with jet mane and
tail. Black tiger stripes marked his legs and back, shoulders
and faintly shadowed the crest of his neck. Over each eye, five
short black stripes ran up his forehead. Behind each nostril
three short stripes ran back toward the eyes. On each leg where
the tiger stripes left off, there were spots.
Tiger Girl's colt. Note stripes
under his chin, markings over eyes and behind nostrils. Photo
courtesy Carolyn Bertin.
After an hour or so he still hadn't gotten
up. I lifted him up so he could nurse. Between his hind legs
I could see he was a stud colt, jet black testes already descended.
Through all this, Tiger Girl looked relaxed
and happy, nuzzling and licking her colt. If this is what she
could do while sick, immature and in labor, and jump that four
foot fence, I thought, she's some mustang.
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