The horse business can be cold. My Brauner's name
is erased from the "task board", his bridle handed off to another fine four legged friend, and stall is already
filled with a new project. However harsh this seems, it actually has helped me with my plan of bottle up, squash down, and
repress any thoughts/emotions/memories and carry on. Still miss him, just try not to think about it.
However, in the cycle of life sometimes you say goodbye only to turn around and say hello to someone
new. Thursday morning a chestnut colt was born and I am a proud half-owner!
Last
year, my good friend Donna, who owns Alabama, and I agreed to a partnership on an embryo transfer foal from her royal stinky
Greyness. Late in the season (last collection date in fact!) Alabama was bred to Don Schufro and had a successful embryo transfer.
I picked up Aila, a now pregnant 19 year old, long back, thick necked recipient mare of forgettable origin, from The Animal
Embryo Centre in the Netherlands. Aila moved in to the lovely, family owned stable of Hubert & Lena Hessel, in the
small town of Lette to be pregnant.
I spent the winter and spring referring
to Aila as 'The Vessel.' She was purchased for 1200 euro or something like that, as the owner of the horse is the owner of
the embryo. The Centre buys back the mares after weaning for 800 euro (I think), so it's a pretty cheap rental program. I
would visit The Vessel from time to time, brushing her when I felt so motivated, but generally considering her an object to
transport and deliver something, like a rental car. I liked her, but I wasn't getting attached to her.
Then the last day of May, a Sunday night, I got a phone call from the owner of the farm.
Aila was sick, she was in big trouble, the vet was on his way. Shortly after the vet phones me and tells me they are
already loading the mare, she needs to be at the clinic. He'll call me … but if he doesn't it means they're in surgery.
He didn't call.
Aila had
a twisted large intestine and surely would have died without the successful operation performed by the team at Klinik Domaene
Karthaus. When I saw her the next day, and saw the expressions on the faces of the treating vets, I understood how serious
it had been and still was. Suddenly it wasn't only about the foal, it was also about this mare. Her job in life has been to
carry babies for other mothers. She has done it many times and done it well. She was a kind mare and she was tough enough
to survive the night, but no one would tell me she was out of danger.
Every
day I waited for the phone call to tell me that she was sick again or that she'd aborted the pregnancy. Yet every day when
I went to visit her, she looked better. After two days she showed enjoyment when I groomed her. After three days she was a
little interested in grazing. After four days her eyes were so much brighter and interested and she wanted to groom me right
back while I brushed her. After ten days she came home. Alive. With bun still in the oven.
It was only after she left the clinic that the vets & techs who had worked with her told me that none of
them thought she'd survive in the beginning. I had had my doubts but was very glad they kept their thoughts to themselves!
Even though there's never a guarantee with horses, I started to relax once
she got home. Every day she got closer to her due date (mid-July) was a better chance for baby to survive. Then it was another
Sunday, the last in June, when I got a call from the farm, Aila is VERY lame and the vet needs to see her. The same vet, Dr.
Peter Heer, was the one who saw her when she went in for surgery. So when Peter phoned me again that evening to tell me he
thought the mare had laminitis, I am pretty sure I dropped the F-bomb during our conversation. I've never been one for top
manners.
I had visions of a rapid, painful decline in the mare's condition,
all eventually leading to the loss of mare & unborn baby. However, Aila & Peter had other plans. WIth special taped-on
shoes & some pain management medication, Aila became more comfortable each day. She was treated like a queen by Lena Hessel,
who had to give her regular medication and ensured her comfort at every level. She was also checked on almost daily by Peter,
who at this point had made it almost to the top of my most-often-called phone list. When the mare started to bag up, and we
knew foaling time was coming, I told Peter that I was sorry to be that owner, but I would be calling him the minute
anything starts to happen. He just sighed, 'yeah, I kind of expected that.' Good god, I already was that owner.
Aila started to wax Wednesday morning, so I borrowed a stack of horse coolers
from Ingrid and bunked down directly in front of Aila's stall Wednesday night. In between swatting mosquitos and wondering
if creepy crawly biting things were going to be able to crawl under the hem of my jeans that I'd tucked into socks, I lay
listening to the horses in the barn, trying to figure out what sounded normal or not.
Aila had lay down, but as I'd never spent the night in the barn before, I wasn't sure if she did this often?
I could hear her licking, and licking, and licking, and licking. Then she nickered, and licked some more. Finally I
had to turn on a light, as I was wondering if I possibly just missed the entire birth? But no, it was just getting started.
After getting up & down a few times her water broke around11:40 pm and I placed a call to Hubert, the farm owner, and
he came right away. I was really trying hard to stay cool and not be totally helpless, but when I face the facts, I AM helpless
in this situation. I know nothing about birthing babies, no how.
So
when Peter answered his phone I said, 'hiPeterit'sEirenAila'swaterbrokeandshe'sgoingintolaborand…uh…" He
said he'd be right over.
It ended up being not so dramatic as I prepared for.
As I was watching Aila and waiting for Peter or a foal's foot or nose to show up, I was filled with dread, sure that something
would go wrong. I had two or three choice horrors playing through my mind, just waiting to be disappointed and heart broken.
But nothing bad happened.
Aila
did get a little help from Peter & Hubert to get baby out, but suddenly there he was, alive.
Alive.
Now I am like every other
new "mother." I think that I have the most perfect, most beautiful baby EVER. I have taken over 250 pictures and
every one makes me smile. I know he's all angles and joints right now. I know his head is maybe a little on the big side,
with great big ears to match. I know his hind legs still need a few days to straighten out and work in a slightly more elegant
fashion. I know all these things. But still I see an amazing, beautiful colt who probably will never have any idea how close
he'd been to not making it.
A thank you note and bottle of champagne
doesn't cover the thanks I feel towards the Hessels, Peter, and everyone at the vet clinic, but it's a start. This has been
a group undertaking from the beginning, working with the vets, the stallion station, more vets, finding a new home for the
mare, having her so well taken care of through everything, and when the going got tough, having everyone give what was necessary.
Without knowing that Aila was in the compassionate and capable hands of Lena every day, and without Peter's unwavering patience
in answering all my questions (and surely there was some stupid ones) and excellent management of the situation, I surely
would have had an emotional breakdown along the way.
Though
I'm sure there will be more drama (there always is with horses, isn't there?), I am excited and looking forward to the future.
The big orange colt, Denny Crane, is the start of a new hope, and right now fills my head with big dreams and my heart with
love.
So Donna, congratulations! We made it (whew!) and will have a big
drink together soon to toast the little man's arrival!
A few posts back I was writing something about professionally distancing oneself from the horses we work with. The idea
is to not get emotionally attached with things that belong to other people. Relationships in business and life always change,
and when you lose the connection with an innocent animal because of changes in human relationships, it sucks.
However
no amount of professional distancing could make me feel better today, after I learned that my favourite horse at the afternoon
job died last night after going to the clinic for a serious colic. This five year old gelding has been a project of mine for
over a year and in that time became my favourite horse, one that I looked forward to every day. After my shoulder surgery
he was the first horse I sat on because I trusted him.
In a body too small for most riders to take seriously, he housed
a huge personality. His enormous eyes could look at you with innocence and love, begging for a hug or a smooch on his very
kissable nose. Or they could look squint up in a look of disgust when he felt the rider was being particularly stupid. Along
with the squinting eyes he would pucker his muzzle, like he just tasted a bitter slice of lemon. You knew when he wasn't impressed.
When he was being stinky under saddle he could pull quick antics, with accompanying grunts, that could make you
see red. After passing that bench 20 times, why is it suddenly horrifying now?! But when he was good, he was really, really
good. He had three very good gaits, and the ability to extend and collect them that showed promise of a big future for this
little man.
I'll never know why I loved this horse so much. If another horse behaved in the same way and pulled
the same crap under saddle, I can't say that I'd adore him the same way I adored this one. His stink made me laugh, and even
when I couldn't laugh it off in the moment, I could always forgive him.
I'm sad that my little friend had to feel
pain last night, and I'm sad that his big eyes and kissable, huggable face won't be at the barn anymore. I'm sad I didn't
get to say goodbye my little Brauner, so he might understand how much I'll miss him.
Shit.
Not sure how the rest of the world is doing, but here in Munster and all of Germany, no one cares about much except for
soccer (or, I should say Fussball). The young German team has been kicking ass and impressing everyone with their convincing
victories, whipping everyone into a freaky fan frenzy.
Normally, soccer is not my sport. However, championship
playoffs in any major sport usually become worth watching, as it's the best of the best and the emotions run high. Saturday
night I watched the game downtown and loved the fact that every time the German team scored against Argentina the church bells
rang. One has to understand just how many churches are in downtown Munster to appreciate how this might sound. As the game
finished with a very clear victory for Germany, it sounded like God him/her/itself (how's that for ambiguous?) was joining
the party, with church bells pealing endlessly. It was fantastic.
We wait for tomorrow night's game of Netherlands
vs. Uruguay, only to find out who will play Germany in the Sunday Final, after, of course, "our" team beats Spain
in Wednesday's semi.
What does this all have to do with my Dressage Adventures? I am supposed to take a three year old
gelding to compete Sunday, and if the schedules of the horse show and FIFA WC final conflict... well, I'm not sure how this
will end.
In other news, Instertanz has joined Ratzinger at Ingrid's stable. Normally he is my first ride of the day,
and it was sad to not see his huggable, cheeky face greeting at me, waiting for the fun to begin. I know he'll make magic
at the Klimke stable and be well loved and cared for, but it still sucks just a little bit.
Otherwise, all the ponies
were excellent today. I am really enjoying my group of horses and feel like progress is being made. Dutchman and I will head
out Friday for our first competition in a month. We've needed the time to get some things sorted out (such as steering) and
though we are far from what we will be one day capable of, I think it's better. The judges will let us know.
So
keep your fingers crossed Wednesday for the German boys, and Friday for my Canadian ass!
Eiren
