Some days, sad things happen

Today was a sad day at the farm. Sad, heroic, tragic...choose a word. I was tempted to skip the events of today in my blog. It's easy to focus on the simple, happy, fullness that fills each day. The hardness of nature and life on a farm itself provides confronts us on occasion. My blog would seem counterfeit somehow if I glossed over days such as this one.

Before the sun arose, Tara, Annie (the breeding intern) and myself set out for a quick day-trip to Morehead State University. Brittney spent her sophomore year at college qualifying to compete at the Intercollegiate Horse Show Association Regionals. She was hoping that at least a small contingent from the farm would be able to cheer her on. As the sun was rising, and we were nearly to Lexington, the cell phone rang. It was Amber calling from the farm. She quickly informed me that there was an emergency situation involving Coco- a maiden mare due to foal near the end of March.

I exited the Interstate and headed back North as quickly as possible all the while mobilizing the team. The initial emergency was that Coco had foaled early this morning and was unattended due to the fact that she was still housed in a quarantine stall at the farm. She had arrived in our care 5 days before and showed no signs of an impending foaling.

I arrived back at the farm just minutes before Dr Mather to see the tiny foal standing beside her mother. The small blue roan filly seemed healthy but sluggish and had not been able to nurse her mother yet. Worse yet, the mare had suffered what appeared to be extensive damage to her vulva and rectum during the foaling. I will brag about our team for the briefest moment because everyone was so helpful, calm, and intelligent in dealing with the events of the morning.

We had stabilized the foal before Dr Mather's arrival with oxygen and were working with the mare's udder to try to get her milk to let down We helped the vet administer IV Plasma, tube nutrients into the foal, and an IV treatment of DMSO (Dimethyl Sulfoxide) to relieve impending swelling of the filly's brain tissues. With the foal stable, we turned our attention to the mare.

Upon examination, Dr Mather discovered that she had torn about a 10 inch section of her rectum.  The entire "roof" of the uterus was missing and mangled with the shredded rectum above it. Everyone knew that this was a possible death sentence for the mare and forwarned of real trouble for the foal as well.  The cell phone minutes ticked away as we tried to keep information to the mare owner, her vet and team at home, and decisions were made regarding the care and treatment of both patients.

Fast forward several hours, and we were loading mare and daughter onto a trailer to receive nursing care nearer to the owner's home. The months will be tenuous and long while the mare fights to recover from this tragedy. Each day she survives is one day better for the foal. Someone said as we loaded the mare- "She's a real fighter, she wants to stay alive and has done everything she could today to help us help her."

I send this blog out tonight with prayers and hope. Every so often, we are hit full-force with the smallness of our role in the universe. We are reminded that we are passengers on a much bigger vehicle. Today, we were all passengers and I can only hope that this ride ends in happiness, health and joy.