From the Publisher – Priceless Moments
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By Tom Grabe
It’s an hour or two before dawn and the brisk winter air is nature’s alarm clock as it stings your face on the way to the barn. The stalls are eerily silent as you enter an aisle that is dark except for a faint light at the far end. You are greeted by sleepy nickers from the other residents as you pass them on the way to the illuminated stall. They all know why you are there and as you peer through the bars you know the eleven month journey was was worth every minute. There, before you, is your newborn foal.
You had known for a couple of weeks that she was getting ready and the last week of 2 a.m. checks left you wishing you had invested in that foalalert or a foal monitor. And, of course, the one day you decided to let your better half check her, instead of doing it yourself, was the day she decided to lay down and have her baby. And you missed it.
By the time you got dressed and made it to the barn, the foal was on the ground. But now you’re here and the baby seems fine. All the legs are pointed in the right directions; two eyes, a nose and the rest looks good. You kneel down to introduce your new filly to the world and she drunkenly nuzzles your hand in search of sensory stimulation and nourishment. She’s wide-eyed and naive and she’s struggling to get to her feet. Mom’s there, back on her feet and ready for her newborn to join her. In what seems like a minute, her little girl is up enjoying her first meal out of the womb and getting the needed nutrients and antibodies from that first mother’s milk.
As dawn approaches, you get to see a little bit more of your newest addition to the family. She has her mom’s eyes, her dad’s neck, her grandpa’s hip and her aunt’s white hind leg. You know this because you raised all of them, too. They all have different homes, but you’re the one who brought them into the world.
And speaking of the World, three of them won it…a World Championship, that is. Will this little girl, Sally, (you’ve already given her a pet name) be the next? Who knows? Only time will tell, but the pedigree is there; and, at four hours old, she looks the part! You giggle a little bit at this thought. But, really, who knows?
The day at work was a total loss. Your mind was at home and you got half of your work done because you were thinking about your new family member. You had a couple of calls from close friends to congratulate you on the birth (like you did the work or something) and to inquire about the foal. Is it healthy? What does it look like? What color? Do you think she will be as good as her brother? You get the third degree from each and every one of them and you answer each question as best you can, with glee and a little bit of pride.
By the time you get home, little Sally is full of milk and full of life. She bucks and kicks out at her mom. She playfully kicks at you when you come in the stall. Then she turns around, sticks her head out as far as she can without it coming undone from her neck and she tries to sniff your hand, but really just snorts on it. She tells you with her eyes, “If you go easy, I might let you pet my head. If not, I’m out of here!” You spend a few minutes easing your way toward her and she relaxes. You tickle her nose and work your way up the side of her head. She is jumpy, but she stands fast and soon you are having a head-to-hand conversation. The first of many to come.
It’s the end of the day and you find yourself wandering back to the stall so often that it’s interrupting the feeding schedule and keeping you from finishing your chores. But you can’t help it. You’ve waited eleven months for this day; for this one day when you would see if all that work, all that planning showed up in the form of an outstanding foal.
So, did it work? Only time will tell. This is another day in the life of a true breeder. And there’s no way to put a price on this moment.
