2012 season

cont/d....

On Saturday after numerous call to Johanna, she suggested as we were doing so well, that we could, gently – but VERY gently start to roll back the dead foal’s skin and present the colt’s backside for the mare to smell, starting at the tail. We smothered him again with all sorts of indescribable things from head to toe, and reversed him in – he was a pro at it by now and he started drinking. Slowly, but very slowly, we pulled the skin more and more forward until he stood there without the skin. Bev took it out of the stable and put it in a bag far away (unfortunately to be found at a later date by someone looking for Stud mix!) Black humour always emerges in events like this, and it wasn’t long before we had dispensed with the rubber gloves and were getting stuck in with all the gore that was necessary.

We thought we had cracked it – the next problem that presented itself was the mare was obviously sore and started to want to bite the foal, and Bev. By this time the colt’s top and bottom teeth had suddenly sprouted. We were both so tired by this time that it was very difficult to gauge the difference between normal mother behaviour and rejection. The mare started to bite her own chest instead and if she did catch the little one would follow it up with a lick. Bev and I both felt that, although tired, it was necessary for us to be at subsequent feedings to see if there was an improvement or decline, so we soldiered on.

Jude had taken the lorry home in the morning and had phoned to say she was back in Gloucester. On Saturday evening, some friends came round to have a look and help. By this time, we had taken the lead rope off the colt, but were keeping a very loose rein on the mare, just in case she reacted to the pain she was obviously suffering when he decided to hang on. Then she smelt him and suddenly ears back, teeth bared and we pulled him out of the stable. What had happened? What did or didn’t we do?

The vet, having kept in constant contact came along and did a colostrum test which proved he had not received enough, (the gut is only open for 8-12 hours before it will not accept any more colostrum – so the test is essential) and it was necessary to do a serum infusion a couple of days later . It appeared that we had left them together too soon, his few droppings did not smell of her yet and, as he had not had enough colostrum, he was constipated, and still smelt of foaling milk. We separated them and began again, but each time we did so, the mare was becoming more and more agitated about being separated. Surely her milk would be coming through shortly?

Sunday morning, Jude appeared back in the yard, then some more friends, as did Bev. I felt for Bev as she was expecting a foal from her maiden mare this year, she had had bad luck and the last thing she really needed was this experience, but she was there the whole way. After much discussion, and with Paul saying he would polish his bike outside the stable to keep a constant eye on them (that’s a man for you), we decided to let mare and foal in together without ropes, we held our breath. It was as though he were her own foal, she circled him and let him suckle, giving him a sharp nip on the hocks when he got too enthusiastic with his teeth.

Bev and I were shovelled off to have a bath and get some rest. Jude, Paul and Sherry fed me, did my shopping and looked after Pasadena and Cooper. Jude stayed and did the checks on Sunday night whilst I slept, she left in the early hours of Monday morning to go back to work directly from me!!

Little hiccups have presented themselves, e.g. foal had a little constipation, but when Pasadena’s milk came through it soon sorted that out. She was not drinking enough and not producing enough milk, so one teaspoon of cocoa in her feed once a day, plus plenty of succulents fixed that too. We also found out she didn’t like the mauve bucket, so changed it to black and floated apples in it for her to apple bob and get some water.

On Monday the vet came to administer the IgG serum, which was crucial in sorting out his lack of antibodies caused by insufficient colostrum. If done incorrectly, it could kill the foal (no pressure for the vet then!). Cooper went down like a sack of potatoes when the vet started and my world fell out of my boots. The drip was stopped and he eventually stood up to receive the rest at cat infusion pace just to be sure. Instant protection. Although he appeared hale and hearty, in time the lack of mum’s colostrum would have taken effect and he would have been open to all sorts of infections and eventually die.

After the trauma of all the previous events, Pasadena and Cooper seemed surprisingly settled and content with their lives. I, on the other hand, eventually caught on my sleep. It’s not like I am a youngster anymore, those nights coming home with the milkman (when there used to be one) were long gone, so four days without much sleep told on me physically and consequently had a few days with reactionary flu like symptoms. Pasadena and Cooper had no such reactions and for the first few days I kept them in a stable – they were both too precious to let out in to the field.

It was becoming apparent after a couple of days that little Cooper was feeling very well in himself; he wanted to stretch his legs big time using poor Pasadena as some form of roundabout in the stable for him to gambol, buck and gallop around. This in itself made my hair curl and I had to make a decision. I was very aware that Pasadena was not my mare and that Cooper was sold to Wendy, so if sods law was going to apply, it would in this case. So there was no way they were going out with the others. So I fenced off some pasture separately and put their headcollars on. I didn’t even know if Pasadena would let me catch her – I knew nothing of her, except her exceptional temperament she had shown over the past week.

It was a lovely morning, so I bit the bullet. I walked them to the gate of the field, after persuading Cooper that the world didn’t actually end at the stable door and being unceremoniously dragged back in by ‘mum’ several times to ensure him it didn’t. I put some feed in the field and hoped this would stop her going off to investigate the other mares and foals and showing off over the wire fence. Concrete to pasture also created a problem in Cooper’s eyes, but the fact that ‘mum’ kept walking was a bigger incentive to just leap into the air and hope that what he landed on was going to be solid – mum hadn’t sunk, so why should he!

Pasadena was relieved to be outside for a change; she hadn’t really had a chance to stretch her legs since the journey up and the eventful adoption, but food proved a bigger attraction (thank goodness for food orientated horses ). Really, that was as exciting as it got. Cooper stood with eyes like saucers looking at the big world and eventually, tried his legs out, big time; most of the pictures I took turned out to be just a tail disappearing or a hedge where he had been a nanosecond before.

They settled beautifully; Pasadena is an excellent mum, if a little more possessive than the usual, but not knowing her, I wouldn’t know if that is her way anyway. Cooper wasn’t allowed to go too far, which created problems when he thought he was on some American Range with his ancestors with acres and acres to gallop free with little mane and tail blowing in the wind. However, whenever you went into the field, the pair of them came up to see you for a scratch and a cuddle. They came in at night without a problem.

Wendy and I talked and there seemed little point in having the pair of them with me for 6 months until weaning, when she had plenty of grazing , shelter and lived only a short distance to where Pasadena came from, so it was decided they would take the pair of them sooner rather than later. That way, Pasadena’s mum could come to visit and Wendy could start bonding with her little colt earlier than normal.

So one morning, she arrived in a BIG trailer. This was going to be fun. Straw to the horses’ elbows in the trailer, Wendy and her husband were going to take a very slow drive back home. Pasadena walked in a treat then realised that Cooper had no such intention, so she pulled us out again and went by his side. Okay: new tactics. The husband and I held Cooper by a long rope and just joined hands under his bottom and walked him up the ramp without any real showing off at all. ‘Mum’ followed and stayed, the ramp was shut and off they went down the road. Anybody who got behind them on the way home was in for a loooong slow journey.

Now, I am not saying it was easy to let him go. In fact my eyes may have just been a little watery. Together we had been through so much, the very fact he was alive was a miracle but I felt that I was also saying a final goodbye to his birth mother (The Yank) and that hit hard for the very first time; whilst Cooper was there, so was The Yank. I will always have a very soft spot for him and will obviously follow his life closely.

Since going to his new home, The Mendip Stud approached me and using Cooper’s Story actively raised over £2,500 for the National Foaling Bank, by sponsorship of classes at their AQHA shows, donations and special classes with a trophy they have donated - the ‘Johanna Vardon Trophy’ - which is awarded based on points achieved over several Western Disciplines. This cause was also taken up by The Western Shop. Stories appeared in the local paper and Horsemart also ran the story, hopefully to raise awareness and more funds to The National Foaling Bank.

So, something good normally comes out of something bad, and bad it certainly was. This is going on all over the country/world and unless it hits you personally, you never know what is happening. The conclusion – one very happy mare and foal very successfully fostered – BUT - it was all down to Johanna Vardon of the National Foaling Bank – we were just instruments for her expertise and having successfully helped foster over 400 mares and foals, I think she should know what she is on about.

I would like to think this has just highlighted the need for a charity like the National Foaling Bank. I am ashamed to say I had thought about joining the NFB but never put my hand in my pocket to send her the paltry £20 to help her cause and join. She never once mentioned this fact to me and her absolute priority was the mare and foal and that her successful formula be adhered to.

I would like to thank everybody who helped this little colt survive and all the support, emails, and texts that I have received. Without them there, I could not have done it. Most especially I would like to thank Beverley Lawrence and Jude Bolas, the two best friends I could have had, who went way above and beyond the call of duty of friendship.

Mostly though - my heartfelt thanks (and Pasadena’s and Cooper’s) go to Johanna Vardon. I would like to think on reading this, some of you, particularly those involved with breeding, no matter on what scale, can find it in their hearts to join the NFB, or send a donation. There is absolutely no substitute for her expertise, and as it is purely a charity, it relies totally on donations to keep in existence.

Cooper is sold and a substantial donation will be sent to NFB. No matter how much I send her, it will not be enough for the many years of dedication she has given to this cause and dealing with people like myself who have no concept of how to successfully foster a foal to a mare. It really is a matter of life or death!

Once again, a deep heart felt thanks to everyone who has been involved in this episode of my, Pasadena’s and Cooper’s life and thanks to people like Sandra, a retired lady that knitted scarves as her way of saying ‘Well Done’ to all involved and her donation of £25 to the cause. Johanna was thrilled.