How does a person attempt to describe a foaling season consisting of 50% tragedy? It is hard to be 'glass half full' pollyanna when you sit at the kitchen table with blood drying up your arms, placenta stuck to your knees and a horrid mess of death lying in the paddock waiting to be cleaned up at first light.
I feel like I let this mare down. I sat with her in the paddock last night and felt the foal move. Just on twilight....the time they all go silly in the paddock, playing, catching the last light before bedtime. I was comfortable leaving her, she looked well and happy, and was not a maiden mare. Penn has always just popped them out when she is ready, unassisted and under cover of darkness. Greg headed out at first light this morning to spray the vineyard and when I heard him turn the bike back, I knew we had news of some sort. Unfortunately, all bad.
JK My Penny would have given birth to a lovely bay filly, had all gone well. Now, I sit here typing this as a way of shedding some of the stress and shit that I feel caked in. Bloody animals.
My 50% triumph, is RG Rumblebee. A cute as a button chesnut colt, born Friday the 13th to my TB mare, Ducky. A maiden mare, unassisted. Funny how fate likes to fart in your face occasionally?
Rumble is orange with a white mark on his face that looks like someone tripped with a glass of milk. His legs are so long that he looks like a peanut balanced on 4 toothpicks. He is cute and cocky and has his 'fathers eye'! And he is so welcome.
RIP Penny, sorry I let you down.
