Foal Watch Day Six
Why, you may ask, would a foal watch last SIX DAYS??? Well friends, I have two hours to explain before I have to go walk out to the barn again for what feels like the 900th time to check my dear little darling and give her a treat before cursing and tromping dejectedly back inside.
You see, 6 days ago my precious Cinnamini went in to the vet for an ultrasound and we saw a VERY LARGE, fully formed baby in birthing position. While the techs were ooing and awing over how adorable and small she is, Cinna was lapping up the attention and plotting how to get a treat every 2-3 hours for 6 days straight.
When she didn’t have the foal that night I was a little discouraged, until I saw the next morning that her milk bag had started filling! Hope renewed! Alas, the tiny one’s plot goes on, and everyone’s excitement is tested, but not waning quite yet.
In case you haven’t noticed, Cinna, everyone is really invested in this.
Wednesday comes and goes. Thursday comes and goes. Cinna enjoys her new diet of mare grain, constant treats and all the hay she wants. The vet did say, after all, that she is not overweight and could use calories. Yes, princess! Anything for a teeeeeeeny weeny miniature foal like all the pictures on Instagram we are all dying over!
Friday brings waxing on the udder. Huzzah! Baby time!! Some of the girls sleep over at the barn in the freezing cold, eagerly watching and waiting. This MUST be the night! “Haha!” thinks Cinna. “If you think I’m giving my special attention up this quickly you must not know the extent of the stubbornness of a pony!”
Saturday. The udder is dripping milk. All the literature says 12 hours after the wax turns to milk. 12 hours!! I continue to check her every 3 hours, in literal sleet, rain, snow, wind. Doesn’t matter. No way I am missing this. And each check I get bright eyes and happy expression. I have been in labor before, and I am certain she will not look like Snow White when there is a baby coming out. She is, I should say, extremely uncomfortable. She kicks and bites at her stomach and pins her ears when the baby kicks back. She rubs on the fence and stomps her feet. She eats, but not ravenously as usual. All of this should mean baby is coming soon, but clearly no one has the definition of “soon”.
Welp, sorry folks. Time’s up. Here I go on my twice-hourly walk for no reason at all. But the absolutely MADDENING part of all of this is that the longer it doesn’t happen, the closer it gets to happening! Send help. Scratch that, send caffeine.