The Mighty Finn (Part Two)

    I quietly completed my dinner chores in the barn and gave the big red mare a hasty grooming before I stepped back out into the cold. While I was feeding, darkness had edged across the sky. Now, my path back to the house was lit not by sunset but by glowing yellow orbs atop lamp posts which were poised like sentries along the sidewalk. I stepped inside the back door and shed my outerwear. Without stopping, I hurried to the kitchen and flipped open my laptop computer which was left sitting on the counter.

    ZigZag's image appeared on the screen thanks to the technological mystery of the internet and cameras mounted above her stall. She seemed to be standing much the same as when I had left minutes before- ignoring her dinner of hay and grain.  I popped a cardboard version of 5 Cheese Lasagna into the microwave and waited 4 minutes for the "ding" which declared my dinner was ready.  Meanwhile, other than the occassional shift of her weight from right hind leg to left hind leg, ZigZag stood motionless.

    Several hours later with laptop still on standby on the counter and ZigZag still mostly frozen in one spot, I decided to grab a brief catnap. After double-checking that the internet mavens from Marestare were on alert for the big event, I closed my eyes. Within what seemed like an instant but was more likely an hour or so, my cell phone rang. I answered and received the information from Kathy (a dedicated foal watcher who, like Big Brother, always has her eyes on our mares via the internet). The mare was showing signs of entering active and hard labor.

    I pulled on most of my clothing from earlier, and simultaneously slipped my feet into gray barn tennis shoes as I phoned ZigZag's owner Mary Ann to tell her the news. She, too, was sleeping lightly because she lived just a few miles away and wanted to attend the birth. Assuring me that she was leaving home within a few minutes, I phoned Amber, my foaling assistant. She lives on the farm in an apartment which allows her to be on call for just these situations.

    "Rock and Roll," I said as she answered her phone. Somewhere along the line, this had become the call to duty for us. It indicated that foaling was imminent. I retraced my earlier steps down the slight incline of sidewalk in double time. I quickly unlatched the barnyard gate and left it open behind me as I knew that Amber and eventually Mary Ann would follow.

    In less than a pair of minutes from Kathy's phone call, I was standing just outside ZigZag's stall and immediately began to assess her medically. She was sweating with steam rising from her broad back. I watched her tail stiffen, straighten, and then noted that her sides tightened in an aggressive contraction. Her breathing was heavy, but she was not distressed. Sure to Kathy's promise that the time was upon us, this was not a false alarm. Although this was the first foal of the year, I allowed my brain to jump into autopilot mode. It only took moments before I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline push away the sleepy fog and my mind was clear. I looked over the supplies that I had organized a few days before- yep, they were complete and ready. In a habit born of necessity, I noted the time. The information would be vital in the moments to come.

To Be Continued...