**Warning**some graphic descriptions of birth complications follow**
I haven't been on the forum for a while. Life got crazy when I started moving household with a pregnant horse I purchased (already bred in 2015) in January. We settled into our new place of 10 acres covered in lush grass in mid April, although my husband and youngest were still 6 hours away while she finished school.
My QH mare went into labor on May 18th. I was checking her every 45 minutes because I knew she was close. When I saw her rocking side to side and some liquid come out, I ran inside to get my daughter. 5 minutes later we were back outside, but the baby was already on the ground. Momma was just finishing up, and he was still halfway in the amniotic sac, my little palomino colt I named Simon because his mane is so gorgeous and reminds me of the actor Simon Baker with it.
Simon was up and walking around after several adorable falls that included somersaults, within the hour. He was also suckling with just a few hiccups trying to find her udder. But momma was not doing so well.
She was passing a lot of blood clots and spending a lot of time lying down. I called the vet and he came over, did a check, and said he thought she might have a tear somewhere internally, but he wasn't sure. He gave her some anti-inflammatories, a shot of antibiotics, and instructions to call if things got worse.
We spent the next few hours tending to mom and baby as needed. Momma spent a lot of time lying down and still there was bleeding. I called her former owner to ask if this was normal for her. The former owner said 'maybe'. It was hard for her to know what I was seeing over the phone.
I called the vet again a few hours later. It was a different guy this time, one I know from other visits for vaccinations and such. He did a blood test and said she was slightly anemic and to get her up and moving around (she was lying down all the time, but letting her baby nurse anyway...a really amazing mom who did everything she could to feed him the colostrum he needed).
I did as directed. Every 20 minutes or so, I coaxed her to her feet and we walked around the paddock, even though I could tell it was the last thing she wanted to do. She was very dizzy, that was clear. She had a hard time getting up and finding her equilibrium. But she did it! She did everything I asked, regardless of what it cost her.
The last time I got her up, it was a nightmare, though. She could feel herself falling, so she tried to jerk away from me, but I feared she would crash into the shelter and bring the thing down (she was a big girl), so I kept her weight pulled to the side instead of backwards where she wanted to go. She panicked, stiffened and fell to the side as stiff as a board, her head hitting her heavy plastic feed dish on the ground. It was horrific to see and hear. I swear I felt my heart breaking.
She got to her feet and stumbled out into the paddock. I was crying and begging her to be okay as I held onto the lead rope. My daughter was holding the foal away so he wouldn't get stepped on or crushed under her if she fell, though he struggled to follow Luna because he was hungry and wanted his momma. My daughter and I were both bawling.
We were able to start walking after a few seconds of Luna shaking off the dizziness I'm sure she was suffering, and she seemed to find her legs, but even so, I knew it was bad, bad, bad. A lot of blood was coming out of her vulva again, so I called the vet once more.
He came out immediately, looked her over, and tried to convince me to load her onto our truck and bring her to a clinic 2 hours away for a blood transfusion. Her gums were white. I told him no way. She could barely walk and there was no way she'd make it even up the ramp to the truck let alone across the paddock. Even if she could have loaded, I knew she was bleeding badly from somewhere and she was going to collapse in the truck and probably end up killing her baby in the process or all of us by causing the truck to crash.
As a final desperate measure, the vet put his hand inside her (no glove, nothing) to see if he could figure out what was going on and perhaps repair it on the spot, and that's when he found the huge tear in her uterus, half the length of his arm. When he pulled his hand out, a huge mess of blood that had collected in her abdomen poured out everywhere, covering him from head to toe.
We immediately made the decision to PTS. She had suffered long enough, nearly 12 hours. She was gone in minutes, her baby suckling up until the moment before she was injected.
She fought so hard to get through, and she fed her baby the entire time, even as she lay dying. She never once acted aggressive or anything but gentle and kind. I'm not sure I've ever cried as hard as I did saying goodbye to her. She was such a special girl and an amazing mother to Simon.
So then we were left with an orphan foal. Efforts to find an adoptive mare failed. We got foal milk replacement and started feeding it to him. We tried using a bottle, but he wasn't having that at all. I read on the Last Chance Corral site how they use bucket feeding exclusively, so we decided to give that a try. I hadn't showered in two days, eaten, or slept, but I took 5 minutes to do an internet search and I found some instructions on how to teach a foal to drink from a bucket.
At first it was really tough. It seemed all he wanted to do was suck our fingers and when the milk got involved, he backed away. But we persevered and eventually he got the hang of it. At first it took us 20 minutes to get him to drink just a little. By day 2 he was drinking a liter and a half in under 2 minutes, without our fingers being involved. Today, Day 4, I bring him 1.5 liters of formula every 3 hours. I pour it into his bucket that's affixed to the inside of his stall (that's sitting in a paddock), and he slurps it right up all by his big-boy self. *happiness*
We couldn't leave him alone for even a second, because he was way too curious about the electric fence, and we had two horses in the connecting paddock that were ready to trample him if he accidentally got through the wires to their side. It took a couple shocks for him to appreciate the fence, but still, he was so vulnerable and young and had just lost his momma ... it didn't feel right to leave him alone. So we slept in the stall with him and kept him company 24 hours a day.
My two kids and I took shifts. My son slept in a sleeping bag in the stall the first night, barely avoiding baby hooves to the head on several occasions. Simon still hadn't learned where his body began and ended. He was constantly misjudging distances and of course foals don't care what they step on.
The second night my daughter put up a tent just outside the box and slept out there. I brought out all the night time feedings; the kids were just there to be company for Simon. We were all exhausted. My husband had his car in the shop and threw his back out, so he couldn't come up right away. It was just the 3 of us.
After two days of this we knew we needed some help. So we went on a search for an old gelding pony who could play babysitter. My trainer suggested this and it felt right. My husband and youngest daughter arrived to help, so I felt confident I could do this. I could take a moment away from the baby to find him a companion.
We found "Sapphire" (who we later named Garfunkel) on an online ad. He's 26 and been living with goats for the last 10 years, horses before that. He let the goats head-butt him, stand on his back, and otherwise run all around his legs. He sounded perfect.
My husband and I drove 3 hours to check Garfunkel out. We found this shaggy, stinky old man who didn't want to be caught to load, but didn't mind us hanging out with him in his paddock. Grain convinced him to accept a lead rope and up into the truck he went without a fuss. Three hours later, he was in our paddock.
He immediately got into a dominance fight with the horse in the neighboring paddock (the horse was the problem, not Garfunkel), breaking the wire fence with a hoof strike. That was depressing. But on a happy note, he met Simon while on a lead rope and being monitored by my trainer, and he accepted Simon's very close presence and rude rooting around his face without any grumpiness or sudden movements. Simon was a bit spooked by the pony, but our trainer said this was normal.
That night we tied Garfunkel up to the outside of Simon's stall, leaving food and water right at his feet, ensuring he could reach them. It was the first night we would leave Simon without a human babysitter. I went out three times to feed him, but I didn't interact with him otherwise; I let Garfunkel be the babysitter.
The next morning, I let Simon out and took Garfunkel by the lead rope. We walked around the paddock together. When I saw complete disinterest on both their parts, I took the lead rope off. We all hung out and nothing happened. Just three creatures, enjoying the sunshine and the dew on the grass. I cried with joy! Simon and Garfunkel seemed to have accepted each other.
After a half hour of meandering, I put Simon back in the stall and left Garfunkel to roam. Simon called out and Garfunkel wandered over and said hello over the stall door. Simon stopped calling.
Later that day, I was in the paddock with both of them free again, and Garfunkel walked away from Simon and me. Simon started calling and then ran after Garfunkel, leaving me behind. I cried again with happiness. He preferred his horsey friend to his human one, which is exactly what he needs to be doing.
Day 4: We leave the stall door open all day now so Simon can come and go as he wishes. Garfunkel stays in the paddock, but when it was raining really badly, he came to the stall and stood under the overhang while Simon slept in the hay inside the stall.
This morning when I did a tour of the paddock, they both walked with me. It was very peaceful, and Garfunkel was very watchful of Simon when he got close to the fence. When he was too close, Funky (as he's becoming known), moves Simon away. He's actually acting much like Luna did before she died! It warms my heart every time I see it.
This morning when the grass was really wet from the rain, Simon started running around. Funky ran after him and made him stop. I laughed so hard. I could totally picture Funky as a grouchy old grandpa, yelling at his grandson to stop running in the rain, because he was going to slip! Later when it dried out a bit, Funky allowed Simon's foolish frolicking without a second glance.
We now have a totally solid feeding schedule. My alarm rings every 3 hours and I go out with a bucket of milk replacer formula. I dump it into the bucket and Simon slurps it down. I either leave or stay, depending on my mood or work schedule. Simon needs the affection his momma would have given him, while at the same time needing time to be a horse with a horse by his side and not a human. I'm trying to strike the right balance, but having to play it on instincts since I'm no expert. My kids stay up late watching TV and do the 11pm and 2am feedings so I can sleep a few hours. I also sleep during the day between feedings, much like I did when my children were infants (sleep while the baby sleeps!)
Every day, several times a day, I pick up Simon's feet and tap his hooves with the palm of my hand. I slide a lead rope over his back and around his legs. We walk on a purple yoga mat. I rub his whole body all over, looking for ticks and just giving him a scratch. I slap him away if he starts looking for a nipple, but otherwise tolerate his baby antics. He's the sweetest little thing, just like his dam. He stands very still and patient, never kicking out. He does move away from pressure, though, so I'm not allowed to hug him. lol
I'm toying with the idea of another companion, like a lamb, but I haven't decided on that. I worry that Simon needs someone to sleep with and play with. Funky is kind of a solitary guy, preferring to stand out in the field rather than be near the stable. We'll see. I like that we have a routine now that allows me to sleep sometimes. My work has suffered, but Simon is my priority. I owe Luna that.
So that's where we stand now. I'm going to try and upload some pictures next.
Thanks for reading! It helps me to share.
I haven't been on the forum for a while. Life got crazy when I started moving household with a pregnant horse I purchased (already bred in 2015) in January. We settled into our new place of 10 acres covered in lush grass in mid April, although my husband and youngest were still 6 hours away while she finished school.
My QH mare went into labor on May 18th. I was checking her every 45 minutes because I knew she was close. When I saw her rocking side to side and some liquid come out, I ran inside to get my daughter. 5 minutes later we were back outside, but the baby was already on the ground. Momma was just finishing up, and he was still halfway in the amniotic sac, my little palomino colt I named Simon because his mane is so gorgeous and reminds me of the actor Simon Baker with it.
Simon was up and walking around after several adorable falls that included somersaults, within the hour. He was also suckling with just a few hiccups trying to find her udder. But momma was not doing so well.
She was passing a lot of blood clots and spending a lot of time lying down. I called the vet and he came over, did a check, and said he thought she might have a tear somewhere internally, but he wasn't sure. He gave her some anti-inflammatories, a shot of antibiotics, and instructions to call if things got worse.
We spent the next few hours tending to mom and baby as needed. Momma spent a lot of time lying down and still there was bleeding. I called her former owner to ask if this was normal for her. The former owner said 'maybe'. It was hard for her to know what I was seeing over the phone.
I called the vet again a few hours later. It was a different guy this time, one I know from other visits for vaccinations and such. He did a blood test and said she was slightly anemic and to get her up and moving around (she was lying down all the time, but letting her baby nurse anyway...a really amazing mom who did everything she could to feed him the colostrum he needed).
I did as directed. Every 20 minutes or so, I coaxed her to her feet and we walked around the paddock, even though I could tell it was the last thing she wanted to do. She was very dizzy, that was clear. She had a hard time getting up and finding her equilibrium. But she did it! She did everything I asked, regardless of what it cost her.
The last time I got her up, it was a nightmare, though. She could feel herself falling, so she tried to jerk away from me, but I feared she would crash into the shelter and bring the thing down (she was a big girl), so I kept her weight pulled to the side instead of backwards where she wanted to go. She panicked, stiffened and fell to the side as stiff as a board, her head hitting her heavy plastic feed dish on the ground. It was horrific to see and hear. I swear I felt my heart breaking.
She got to her feet and stumbled out into the paddock. I was crying and begging her to be okay as I held onto the lead rope. My daughter was holding the foal away so he wouldn't get stepped on or crushed under her if she fell, though he struggled to follow Luna because he was hungry and wanted his momma. My daughter and I were both bawling.
We were able to start walking after a few seconds of Luna shaking off the dizziness I'm sure she was suffering, and she seemed to find her legs, but even so, I knew it was bad, bad, bad. A lot of blood was coming out of her vulva again, so I called the vet once more.
He came out immediately, looked her over, and tried to convince me to load her onto our truck and bring her to a clinic 2 hours away for a blood transfusion. Her gums were white. I told him no way. She could barely walk and there was no way she'd make it even up the ramp to the truck let alone across the paddock. Even if she could have loaded, I knew she was bleeding badly from somewhere and she was going to collapse in the truck and probably end up killing her baby in the process or all of us by causing the truck to crash.
As a final desperate measure, the vet put his hand inside her (no glove, nothing) to see if he could figure out what was going on and perhaps repair it on the spot, and that's when he found the huge tear in her uterus, half the length of his arm. When he pulled his hand out, a huge mess of blood that had collected in her abdomen poured out everywhere, covering him from head to toe.
We immediately made the decision to PTS. She had suffered long enough, nearly 12 hours. She was gone in minutes, her baby suckling up until the moment before she was injected.
She fought so hard to get through, and she fed her baby the entire time, even as she lay dying. She never once acted aggressive or anything but gentle and kind. I'm not sure I've ever cried as hard as I did saying goodbye to her. She was such a special girl and an amazing mother to Simon.
So then we were left with an orphan foal. Efforts to find an adoptive mare failed. We got foal milk replacement and started feeding it to him. We tried using a bottle, but he wasn't having that at all. I read on the Last Chance Corral site how they use bucket feeding exclusively, so we decided to give that a try. I hadn't showered in two days, eaten, or slept, but I took 5 minutes to do an internet search and I found some instructions on how to teach a foal to drink from a bucket.
At first it was really tough. It seemed all he wanted to do was suck our fingers and when the milk got involved, he backed away. But we persevered and eventually he got the hang of it. At first it took us 20 minutes to get him to drink just a little. By day 2 he was drinking a liter and a half in under 2 minutes, without our fingers being involved. Today, Day 4, I bring him 1.5 liters of formula every 3 hours. I pour it into his bucket that's affixed to the inside of his stall (that's sitting in a paddock), and he slurps it right up all by his big-boy self. *happiness*
We couldn't leave him alone for even a second, because he was way too curious about the electric fence, and we had two horses in the connecting paddock that were ready to trample him if he accidentally got through the wires to their side. It took a couple shocks for him to appreciate the fence, but still, he was so vulnerable and young and had just lost his momma ... it didn't feel right to leave him alone. So we slept in the stall with him and kept him company 24 hours a day.
My two kids and I took shifts. My son slept in a sleeping bag in the stall the first night, barely avoiding baby hooves to the head on several occasions. Simon still hadn't learned where his body began and ended. He was constantly misjudging distances and of course foals don't care what they step on.
The second night my daughter put up a tent just outside the box and slept out there. I brought out all the night time feedings; the kids were just there to be company for Simon. We were all exhausted. My husband had his car in the shop and threw his back out, so he couldn't come up right away. It was just the 3 of us.
After two days of this we knew we needed some help. So we went on a search for an old gelding pony who could play babysitter. My trainer suggested this and it felt right. My husband and youngest daughter arrived to help, so I felt confident I could do this. I could take a moment away from the baby to find him a companion.
We found "Sapphire" (who we later named Garfunkel) on an online ad. He's 26 and been living with goats for the last 10 years, horses before that. He let the goats head-butt him, stand on his back, and otherwise run all around his legs. He sounded perfect.
My husband and I drove 3 hours to check Garfunkel out. We found this shaggy, stinky old man who didn't want to be caught to load, but didn't mind us hanging out with him in his paddock. Grain convinced him to accept a lead rope and up into the truck he went without a fuss. Three hours later, he was in our paddock.
He immediately got into a dominance fight with the horse in the neighboring paddock (the horse was the problem, not Garfunkel), breaking the wire fence with a hoof strike. That was depressing. But on a happy note, he met Simon while on a lead rope and being monitored by my trainer, and he accepted Simon's very close presence and rude rooting around his face without any grumpiness or sudden movements. Simon was a bit spooked by the pony, but our trainer said this was normal.
That night we tied Garfunkel up to the outside of Simon's stall, leaving food and water right at his feet, ensuring he could reach them. It was the first night we would leave Simon without a human babysitter. I went out three times to feed him, but I didn't interact with him otherwise; I let Garfunkel be the babysitter.
The next morning, I let Simon out and took Garfunkel by the lead rope. We walked around the paddock together. When I saw complete disinterest on both their parts, I took the lead rope off. We all hung out and nothing happened. Just three creatures, enjoying the sunshine and the dew on the grass. I cried with joy! Simon and Garfunkel seemed to have accepted each other.
After a half hour of meandering, I put Simon back in the stall and left Garfunkel to roam. Simon called out and Garfunkel wandered over and said hello over the stall door. Simon stopped calling.
Later that day, I was in the paddock with both of them free again, and Garfunkel walked away from Simon and me. Simon started calling and then ran after Garfunkel, leaving me behind. I cried again with happiness. He preferred his horsey friend to his human one, which is exactly what he needs to be doing.
Day 4: We leave the stall door open all day now so Simon can come and go as he wishes. Garfunkel stays in the paddock, but when it was raining really badly, he came to the stall and stood under the overhang while Simon slept in the hay inside the stall.
This morning when I did a tour of the paddock, they both walked with me. It was very peaceful, and Garfunkel was very watchful of Simon when he got close to the fence. When he was too close, Funky (as he's becoming known), moves Simon away. He's actually acting much like Luna did before she died! It warms my heart every time I see it.
This morning when the grass was really wet from the rain, Simon started running around. Funky ran after him and made him stop. I laughed so hard. I could totally picture Funky as a grouchy old grandpa, yelling at his grandson to stop running in the rain, because he was going to slip! Later when it dried out a bit, Funky allowed Simon's foolish frolicking without a second glance.
We now have a totally solid feeding schedule. My alarm rings every 3 hours and I go out with a bucket of milk replacer formula. I dump it into the bucket and Simon slurps it down. I either leave or stay, depending on my mood or work schedule. Simon needs the affection his momma would have given him, while at the same time needing time to be a horse with a horse by his side and not a human. I'm trying to strike the right balance, but having to play it on instincts since I'm no expert. My kids stay up late watching TV and do the 11pm and 2am feedings so I can sleep a few hours. I also sleep during the day between feedings, much like I did when my children were infants (sleep while the baby sleeps!)
Every day, several times a day, I pick up Simon's feet and tap his hooves with the palm of my hand. I slide a lead rope over his back and around his legs. We walk on a purple yoga mat. I rub his whole body all over, looking for ticks and just giving him a scratch. I slap him away if he starts looking for a nipple, but otherwise tolerate his baby antics. He's the sweetest little thing, just like his dam. He stands very still and patient, never kicking out. He does move away from pressure, though, so I'm not allowed to hug him. lol
I'm toying with the idea of another companion, like a lamb, but I haven't decided on that. I worry that Simon needs someone to sleep with and play with. Funky is kind of a solitary guy, preferring to stand out in the field rather than be near the stable. We'll see. I like that we have a routine now that allows me to sleep sometimes. My work has suffered, but Simon is my priority. I owe Luna that.
So that's where we stand now. I'm going to try and upload some pictures next.
Thanks for reading! It helps me to share.