On August 14th, 2011 my barrel mare, Wynonna, foaled her first ever stud colt. You see, at that time I had a one-stud horse, four mares, and a fence that could blow over with a slight breeze. Not exactly the best setting when trying to keep an eager stud away from my mares. This led to Wynonna being bred completely out of season. Despite this being an honest accident, her pregnancy went smoothly, and towards the end of that summer, I could see her bagging up. This means her hind end was loosening and her teats swelling with colostrum. Once a mare does this, birth is in the near future. So I took the time to give her a nice bath and wrap her tail so when she delivered it wouldn’t be in the way.
Day after day I’d checked on her, spent time with her, talked to her and her baby, and patiently waited. Each morning when I went to feed, I’d make sure she was still standing by herself, with no tiny foal to her side. Horses are not unlike humans and will usually give birth when they are most comfortable and feel completely safe. This typically happens during the late hours of the night and early hours of the morning when the sound around them is softened by darkness.
Wynonna wasn’t any different. I had wanted her to go into labor when I was up and moving around but labor doesn’t mind if it’s convenient for others or not. So I continued to wait and check on my mare, knowing it has to happen soon. She was showing all the signs after all.
A huge monsoon storm was set to hit our area the following day so I had to prep all the horses, tarp the feed, and get Wynonna set up with fresh, dry straw, just in case. So that’s what I did. When I tucked the horses in that evening I prayed that Wynonna wouldn’t go into labor, “just wait one more day” I softly whispered in her ear.
That evening, the storm rumbled across our house, and sheets of rain hit the glass windows, making an echoing noise inside. That morning when the sun rose I stepped onto the back porch and made my way down the stairs to the horses. And there stood Wynonna with a tiny foal laying in the mud of the night before the storm. What bedding was once dry, quickly became soaked by the flooding rain and this tiny baby was shivering in a muddy puddle in the corner of the corral.
Without hesitation, I ran into my mare’s pen and yelled back to my mother who was not too far behind me, “Get towels, we have a baby!”. As she turned and headed back to the house, I scooped up the foal and carried him with one arm around his chest and the other behind his hind legs. I was able to carry him out of the mud and onto a somewhat dry-ish part of our land. By this time my mother had come back with towels and she dropped them off to me as she grabbed my mare, as to be sure to not separate the two.
With our bathroom towels, I dried him up, wiped the mud off of his fresh body, and did a once-over on him. His legs were straight, his breathing was steady and not labored, and lastly, I had to check if it was a filly or colt.
My mare had made her arrival to us and I stepped away as I allowed them the space to get to know one another without being soaked in mud. As they did that, I cleaned up a different pen, laid fresh straw down, and walked back over to them. There was only one thing off, a big thing. I had not yet seen him stand up to the nurse. This could be because he was born during a midnight monsoon storm, as this isn’t the ideal foaling season. So I sat with them both and watched as my mare nuzzled her baby and encouraged him to nurse from her now engorged teats.
I knew time was of the essence and he still wasn’t standing on his own. I decided I couldn’t wait much longer (and neither could he) so I walked into the pen and made sure to acknowledge my mare first. This is done to ensure Mama knows I’m not a threat and I’m not here to hurt her baby. With her approval, I grabbed the foal once again and steadied him to his legs.
His knees buckled and it wasn’t long before he was down again. My mare and I knew this wasn’t normal and she nuzzled her baby yet again. With her approval again, I steadied him on his legs. This time I milked my mare a little and put the colostrum on his lips. His ears perked up and so I directed his head towards her teats. Then he latched!
He stood there, his legs shaking, but he was standing and nursing. He did it! We did it! They did it!
As the day progressed, I stayed home and continued to monitor them. That was the first and only hiccup they experienced as a new Mama and foal. She was a great mother and him, was the sweetest little thing I had ever laid eyes on.
Wynonna eventually ended up passing away years later, but her colt, Dillinger, was as strong as could be. This story of Dillinger continues and next month as I write yet again, you’ll see how he’s evolved into the horse he is today and what famous cowboy/ movie star he then went on to live with for a few years.
Thank you for taking your time to read this little story and if you want to know anything else before next month, feel free to reach out to me on my personal Instagram at @unbridledmama. I’ll drop a few hints.
To be continued…
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