Breezefinger

At the barn where I work, we have two pregnant mares- both are very well bred, great temperaments, and worth more cash than I make in three years. They are also incredibly well loved by their owner (my boss), so as the one mare has neared and went over her due date, its been an extremely stressful time, checking the mare constantly for any signs of labor, etc.

Yesterday, 12 days over her due date, my boss and I agreed she was behaving really strangely when we first came in in the morning. She's usually a vacuum cleaner who will eat anything thrown her way, and is demanding about coming out of her stall and into her grass paddock ON TIME. Today, she barely touched her breakfast, and stood quietly in the back corner of her stall until I went in with her halter. We decided to put her out on grass anyway, while I did my chores, as we didn't want her to decide to have the foal while nobody was around! So I brought her in from grass three hours later, and noticed a faint red vaginal discharge. Hmm. Unusual. Just the way she was behaving, standing in the corner of her paddock not eating, and calling desperately to the pony mares whom she usually despises, convinced me to call the vet. I called out our reproduction specialist vet, saying I think the mare was going into labor, and called her owner as well.

While I'm waiting for them to show up, having put the mare in her nice, deeply bedded stall with hay, and fresh water, I begin to worry that maybe I've called everybody out for nothing. How embarrassing would it be if both the owner and vet dropped appointments and meetings to come out for nothing? Uh-oh...

Anyway. Dr.P shows up, a forgetful, elderly Englishman, still dressed in his surgery scrubs and not wearing his barn boots, but rather, his nice white Nikes. He quickly looked at the mare and said, rather patronizingly, 'No, no, I really don't think she IS going into labor, but since I've come all the way out, I'll just have a tickle about in there to be sure.' (He means he'll do an internal) The owner shows up, we bandage up the mares tail, put her halter on, and Dr.P gets lubed up and goes in.

Just as he said, 'Why, I've found feet!', the mare promptly covered him in amniotic fluid head to toe, and I had to resist the urge to excitedly shout, "I TOLD YOU SO!"

The foals head was malpositioned, so after we spent an hour and a half trying to reposition it and help her get it out, we had to load the mare into the six horse trailer with legs sticking out of her vagina, and take her into the clinic at the U of G for an emergency cesarean section!

Both Mama and Baby (a healthy, strapping boy) are fine, and will return home tomorrow.