We're coming down to the wire on Lucy's pregnancy, at least SHE seems to have decided we're coming down to the wire. Lucy has produced 3 healthy foals with no foaling issues out of 3 pregnancies. Two of her foals were born here on the farm and were totally uneventful, well other than mild panic on my part.


Mares can show many signs of impending labor. They often go off their feed, they may press their butts against the fence railing so hard that you think they're going to push it down, they may roll, they may rake their sides against the fencing, they may switch their tails constantly, they may sweat, kick or bite at their bellies. Or, they may do none of the above.


Lucy's first foal, Desi, was the result of a breeding in Texas before we bought her. She'd been with the stallion most of the spring and, therefore, we did not know when she was "due". We watched her closely for 3 months, checking for the usual physiological changes. A. Belly size and shape changes, B. udder development. Once her belly drooped and her udder began to develop we watched her 24 hours a day. My son and I watched in shifts. He took the night shift and would watch from about 11pm to 6 am. Then he'd wake me up and I would stare at the mare for the remainder of the day until he got home from work and took the night shift. 


I have read that 80 percent of all mares foal between 10 pm and 6 am. I vividly recall the morning that we discovered Lucy was in the 20 percent of all mares who deliver in broad daylight. John had awakened me at about 6 am. I'd stumbled to the coffee pot, got my cup and went to my observation post by the back door to stare at the mare who was staring expectantly back at me. She knew we were there, even if she couldn't see us well through the glare on the glass door. She was not behaving abnormally at all, she just wanted her breakfast and she was sending me "I'm HUNGRY" vibes.


More or less awake, I went out to feed the horses, checked Lucy's udder, it was very warm and very full, just as it had been the night before.  I came inside, got my husband off to work, glancing out each window I passed to check the horse. She was, as usual, vacuuming up hay like some kind of hooved, hairy shop vac.


Because it was April, all of our minis were raking themselves on their fencing trying to scrape off their itchy winter coats. As I sat at the back door, watching Lucy and the others, they were all finished breakfast and were now itching their bodies against their fencing. After about an hour, my forehead pressed against the glass of the door, my eyes glazing over, Lucy's tail suddenly shot straight up over her back and she laid down. I sat bolt upright. She half rolled once, got up, her tail wringing in a wild circle and she laid down again. I pounded on my son's door "NOW OUTSIDE LUCY!" I yelled as I wheeled to the garage door and down the path to the barn, my brain churning with all the horrible possibilities like breach birth, sitting dog position birth, knotted umbilical cord, torn uterine artery, red bag birth, and only 100 or so other things that could go wrong. I was fighting panic. Was I up to this?!


It took less than 60 seconds to get from my watch post to her stall. In that brief length of time she laid down the 3rd time and I arrived as her water broke. Desi was born within 3 minutes. Lucy had flopped to the ground without caring where the birth would take place. She had not chosen the center of her large 12 x 12 stall, oh no, she'd chosen to lie down and give birth a mere 2 feet from the corner. As Desi was being born I was constantly having to reposition him to keep him from being jammed into the corner. But there he was, bright eyed, curious from his first breath, blond like his momma and a total heart stealer. Lucy, got up and immediately went back to policing up hay molecules left over from breakfast, nickering lovingly and nuzzling her baby from time to time as he learned to stand and nurse. Just another great morning for her, but a few more grey hairs for me.


Lucy has begun to bag up. This concerns me as she is not due for 3 more weeks.  She is also larger this time around, which concerns me also. Add these two concerns to my terror of the many birth problems that can occur in miniature horses and you have a prescription for a serious hair dye addiction. Loreal loves me every foaling season.

Desensitizing to something scary

A few days ago, the maker of an off-road wheelchair came out to the farm to let me try out what is likely the most powerful all terrain wheelchair on the market. I generally have to sit in one spot and teach my horses from that one spot, or I hobble painfully around them for a few steps or try to manage a bit of training without tangling lead ropes in my crutches. This can only get us so far in our partnership. Their brains need more stimulation and so does mine.


The chair is HUGE. It's got these large tank-like tracks on either side which allows it to travel easily across the softest deepest sand, finest river silt, and loosest gravel. It goes through mud, water and up 45 degree slopes without blinking a battery light. Did I mention it's HUGE? The treads on the tracks are meant to dig in and crawl over rough terrain, on paved surfaces however, there's nothing to dig into so the treads thwap and rattle against hard surfaces. And, it's HUGE. 


When we find something that our horses are uneasy about, we work with them to help them overcome their fears. We don't avoid things that might be frightening to them unless we just simply don't have the time it takes to deal with the situation fully. We'll make a note to work on it and come back to that as soon as possible. As a result, I have a barn full of horses that really don't spook and bolt at much.


When I drove the Tank Chair (yup, that's what it's called), into the barn aisle that morning, most of the horses glanced up then went back to eating. A couple came over to their gates to check it out, but two of them totally freaked and wanted to climb out the back side of their stalls. Those two felt cornered by this evil sounding, obvious horse eating monster. They had no escape. They were trapped in their stalls and terrified.


A horse must be able to feel like it has the choice to leave and get away from something that makes it uneasy before you can begin to get it's brain in gear. Thus, the first thing I did, was take the Tank Chair out into the largest paddock and unlocked the first panic stricken horse's stall. He was so frightened of being stuck in the stall with that "monster" loose in the paddock that he raced out of the stall right in front of me and ran to the farthest fence line. As soon as he knew he had the option of escape he was able to gather the scattered chickens in his head and became more open to learning.


I drove the chair around in a few circles as far away from him as possible, then drove it toward him. When he moved away I'd move along with him while his butt was turned toward me, if he turned to face me, even if he was just trying to change directions in order to shake me off, I'd move away from him a bit.  Within less than 2 minutes he would follow me for a few seconds before he chickened out. If he stopped moving, I'd stop moving. 


In less than 3 minutes he understood that the monster stopped when he did, so it might not be so bad. Plus "Granny is riding the thing!" With a slightly worried expression, he approached me and I rubbed his forehead and then moved away from him. He followed for a few steps and we began "the dance" again, until he followed me for 5 or 6 steps, I stopped and he came right up to me for his head rub. I drove away again, he walked calmly over to the stalls and stood. This time, I approached him and he stood still and relaxed even as the monster approached. I was able to pull right up to him, stop and rub his head. His worried expression was gone and he was totally relaxed. 


Training session time was under 4 minutes and we progressed from absolute panic and trying to climb stall walls, to completely relaxed and accepting of the scary object. See YouTube video of the session below: