Tragedy Struck (but God was near)

When I have a mare close to foaling I love to hang on the front of the stall and watch her munch on her hay.  I can spend hours there and not tire of it. I watch for any change in her demeanor to indicate she might be getting closer.  I watch to see the foal move - that is always both a thrill and a comfort - to know that it IS alive at that point.  We have not lost a foal yet but you just never know so to see it bouncing is, as I said, a thrill AND comfort.

Corki was known to carry her foals longer than most. The average mare carries her foal an average of 340 days - 11 months.  With her previous three she had gone close to or over 12 months.  That gave me extra time to hang on the stall front and watch her.  She loved it when I brushed on her during that time, nuzzling me when I would pause.  She actually would position her body so the brush landed in the spot she wanted brushed.  Someone once said that she enjoyed the special treatment so much that she deliberately held out, stalling for time. I'm sure that wasn't the case but I surely did enjoy that special time we shared.

I pay very close attention to all my horses every day but when they are in foal they get a closer inspection.  I had had an odd, uncomfortable feeling this year.  The feeling was strong enough that I had even mentioned it to my daughter.  My word for the new year was "LISTEN".  I kind of felt like God was trying to nudge me in a different direction than I'd been going.  I was determined to be still and listen.  This year, 2015, Corki's due date was April 30th and this was to be her last foal.  After this she would be a yard ornament, getting fed and petted, enjoying the rest of her days as my friend.

One evening in early May that uncomfortable feeling was tugging at me.  I was hanging on the stall front, praying for God to watch over Corki and the foal (its name was already Sparky - filly or colt, Sparky it was).  I truly felt Jesus there with me. I felt his hand on my right shoulder and I heard/felt him tell me that everything was going to be okay. WOW.  That experience was so powerful that I gave my testimony of it at church the next Sunday.  No.... I'm not a crazy lady, really.  I just feel that I have opened my heart and soul to the Holy Spirit and He knows He is wanted and appreciated in my life.

A week or so passed.  I've told the story before about my Father-in-Law being my day watchman while I'm at work.  He called me home at noon a couple of times.  Everything was okay the first few times and that's alright. I'd rather be safe than sorry. On May 21st he called again at noon.  I figured it was another false alarm but she was three weeks over and each day could be the day.   I couldn't, and wouldn't take a chance.  For one, I do everything I can to make sure I'm there for the blessed event - to experience God's miracle of birth - to hear that first whinny. For another we have a pretty healthy investment involved and while most mares will deliver fine on their own there is always a risk.

When I walked into the barn I could hear her labored breathing.  Entry into her stall showed me something very frightening. I didn't know at the time what I was looking at but later found it was her intestines sprawled out on the stall floor.  Lord help us, please!  The intestines were coming out her vagina!  She was laying down so I stepped over the intestines and got positioned so that I could reach inside her - searching desperately for feet or a head but I felt NOTHING - no feet, no head, nothing.  Immediately I called my vet and told her I had and emergency with Corki (she knew the mare was overdue). I called John, he had just sat down for lunch but said he'd come right home.  Then I called my dear friend John Moyer.  He was closest and I needed help NOW!  He got there first, and then John.  Dr. Cave had asked me to keep the mare up and moving but since I didn't know what I was looking at and couldn't tell her she thought it was a different emergency situation than what it was.

The guys were able to get her up and out in the shedrow but then she collapsed in pain.  We decided it best to keep her down so we took turns laying on her neck and head until Dr. Cave got there, and that was pretty timely considering she was about 40 miles away from us at the time of the call.  Once she arrived and quickly evaluated the situation everything kicked in to save the foal.  John had the foresight to start milking Corki to get the colostrum (first milk) that is so important to the new born.  Doc heavily sedated Corki to ease her pain.  I stayed at her head trying to comfort her, or maybe it was to comfort me.... John M fetched the items that Doc needed going forwarded - two bales of straw, iodine for the navel, blankets, and whatever else she needed.  Doc began to cut, performing what would be like a C-Section to a woman, John helped her where he could.  Doc had told me that since the mare was sedated the foal would be also.  She must have told me that so that I wouldn't be alarmed at what it looked like when it came out.  John had not heard her and he thought for sure the foal was dead.  It wasn't.

We used the two bales of straw to hang the foal over so that it was upside down, allowing the fluid to drain out of its lungs.  Doc gave Corki the final shot that would euthanize her and I saw her blink her last blink with her oh so kind eyes.  We worked as a team rubbing the foal, gently pounding on its chest and back, all the while with it hanging upside down.  I'm not sure how many minutes passed but in time the foal started coming around.  I don't think it liked being upside down too much.  John took a minute to check to see whether we had a filly or colt.  He proudly announced that it was a stud colt (boy).  At that point I didn't care - I just wanted it to live.  Within an hour Sparky was standing on his own.  Doc took some of Corki's milk and tubed it down his throat to make sure he swallowed it. 

John M had cleaned out Corki's stall so we put Sparky in it. He looked so pathetically small in there by himself.  Dr. Cave had some powdered mare replacement formula at her office and John M volunteered to go get it for me.  I went into the TSC in Marion to get a lamb's nipple. John was going to stay and get Corki moved out of the shedrow to behind the barn until I could figure out what to do.  It was the Thursday before Memorial Day Weekend and it was warm - we couldn't wait too long.  I didn't really want to send her on a rendering truck.... she was my friend, but we didn't have the equipment needed to bury her.  On my way to town I called a couple of friends/neighbors that I thought had a backhoe.  By the time I got back home another dear friend, Frank Payne was already there with his equipment.  John had her moved to the spot and she was buried as quickly as Frank could dig the hole and they could get her in it.

The next task was to get Sparky to nurse on the bottle.  The lamb's nipple was perfect in size for him but it wouldn't fit on a water bottle.  After this very trying day I had popped a Corona beer (in a bottle)..... maybe the nipple would fit on it...... yep, it fit perfectly and he took to it like he'd been doing it all his life, well I guess this was all of his life, but he took to nursing very quickly.... the only problem being all the air that developed in the glass bottle.  It wasn't like I could throw him over my shoulder and burp him.  I felt like I needed to get him to drink out of a bucket, especially since would be going back to work after the holiday weekend. My buds didn't have much hope in that happening..... oh, ye of little faith......

The next morning I went into Marion again to get feed and pick up snacks for John's Indy 500 trip.  Before I left I hung a little "blue bucket" on the stall wall at a level that I thought okay for the little guy.  He had already drank all of Corki's milk so I mixed up some mare replacement formula and put it in the bucket.  I asked God to help him figure out what to do.  When I got home, maybe two hours later, it was all gone!  Praise the Lord!!!!  

So I lost my dear friend, Corki.  She was the first foal born on our farm and when she was little I could scratch her belly and she would lay down on my lap like a dog.  We were great buds.  So you might ask how I can say that God was here during this tragedy but stop and think about it....

If my Father-in-law had not called me home yet again, we would have lost both of them.

All of my support people were able to get here in a timely manner - even my vet was not on another call but still the furthest away.

Dr. Cave, whose been our vet for over 20 years, is so knowledgeable in mares and foals.

Sparky lived and is actually thriving.

He was drinking out of a bucket on the second day.

We were able to bury Corki here on our farm.  She will always be with me.

That night back in May, I felt Jesus tell me everything would be okay and each and everything is okay.  Certainly not the way I would have liked for things to work out, but it is okay.

I will NEVER EVER forget you Corki girl!

Singer's Story

Singer came to us as a nine-week-old puppy.  The minute she walked into our house she was home.  Brittany's are know for their love of people and being an "in your face" dog and those traits fit Singer perfectly.  She was such a joy and reeked of happiness.  You could see it in her face.


I had never had a bird dog but John had grown up with them.  He enjoyed hunting, I enjoyed being in the field with the dogs - it was a perfect match.  Let's be clear on one thing though..... the only things I ever shot were pictures of the events.  :)  


We trained Singer ourselves along with a German Shorthair pup that I had gotten for John.  Her name is GiGi and she and Singer grew into quite good kennel mates and bird hunting partners.  We did the AKC Hunt Tests with both dogs, getting their Junior Hunter titles and Singer even got a perfect score on one of her competitions.  We participated in Put and Take Pheasant Hunts through the DNR every fall, and staged some of our own Quail hunts in the fields behind us.  





My Singer dog was a bird finding fool.  She would stay on point FOREVER - wouldn't retrieve worth a darn, but to hold point until you got ready was no problem.  She was even a natural backer.  It was so fun to watch her work the field. We had a blast!


But there is a season for everything...

My plant shuts down every summer during the week of the Fourth of July.  In 2014, I was beginning the first weekend of my "vacation".  John wanted to get a few things done around home and cleaning the dog kennel real good was one of them.  It's much easier (and safer for the dogs) if they are out of it as he uses the pressure washer.  We have a large deck that has a railing specifically there to keep the dogs contained, kind of like a fenced yard without the grass.  GiGi and Singer came up on the deck to spend time with me while John cleaned the kennel.  Singer was acting kind of listless which was uncommon for my busy, happy Brittany.  I started rubbing her all over and that's when I felt the mass.  It was large and I knew by its proximity and size that it was serious.  And it was Friday evening. Oh, I suppose we could have taken her to the Emergency Clinic but I think a part of me knew it was too late.  I chose to wait and see what the next couple of days brought.

I love my dogs like family.  Watching Singer broke my heart.  She had always had a ferocious appetite but now she wasn't interested in eating much at all.  I was able to get her interested in boneless, skinless chicken breast meat that I had and since I was off work I could feed her small amounts many times per day.  She ate chicken and drank water all the while looking at me with her soulful eyes telling me that she adored me. 

The end of the week approached and Singer was still eating but I could tell she was fading.  I called my vet to make an appointment to help her on her way to Rainbow Bridge (euthanize her).  I left a message but no one returned my call.  Okay.... I do believe that God is in control of everything and that there is a reason for the way things work out.  I continued to take care of her but knew that Monday morning I had to take her in.  I could not stand to see her suffer any longer.  John dug her grave in preparation.

Friday and Saturday she pretty much stayed in the dog house and I sat outside of it offering her chicken and water telling her how loved she was and what a good dog she had been.  Saturday night I had a dream.   John and I had Singer in our bed waiting for her to pass.  I had to go some where - not sure where, you know how dreams are.... When I came home Singer and John were gone.  I just knew she had passed on and he had buried her.  I went out to the grave to see and there was my Singer dog.... jumping and playing with her happy, smiling face.  Then I woke up.  I knew she was gone - I felt it in my soul.

I haven't dreamed about Singer since.  I miss her still and when I think of her I remember the dream and how happy she looked.  I truly believe that God gave me that dream and that vision to comfort me and to let me know that she is okay and waiting for me at Rainbow Bridge (along with many others I have had the chance to love).