As Dixie‘s due date approached, I began sleeping in the pasture with her and waking up multiple times every night to check on her. After 5 nights of this, I began to wonder if the foal would EVER come. I read a somewhat funny article (you can read it here) about a mare who went weeks over the year mark and was horrified that I might have to wait a whole month longer. Each night I rolled out of my hammock with slightly less enthusiasm to find Dixie calmly grazing, painfully ignorant of the agony of our waiting.
Then, at 5:55 on a chilly morning, I got a call from my dad. He said he saw Dixie laying in the corner of the pasture and I should go check on her. I walked across the field, hardly daring to hope that she might possibly be going into labor. Dixie was laying right by the fence and I wondered apprehensively if she was stuck. Then she stood up and my heart nearly stopped. Two hooves, wrapped in the pale placenta, were protruding from her.
AHHHHHH! DIXIE IS IN LABOR! FINALLY! (I didn’t scream this aloud, luckily for Dixie XD). The hooves appeared to be in the right position, and I was relieved to see that the placenta was not red, which would have been an emergency and the foal may not have survived. I eagerly watched as she continued to push the foal. In a very short time, the foal was pushed past the widest part of its body and slid smoothly out with a gush of liquid.
To my elation the foal raised its head and began moving. It was really alive!! I slowly came up to Dixie and tore the placenta off of the foal’s face, as the wet blanket was suffocating it. Dixie was completely exhausted after pushing out her large baby and showed very little interest in it. However, the foal was as lively as could be and struggled to stand, slowly inching further and further down the hill and away from Mama.
Dixie rested for 15 minutes. I watched with concern, knowing that she was totally drained from the labor, but wondering that she might reject the foal. Finally, Dixie stood up and made her way to the baby. She sniffed it, and a flood of uneasy thoughts entered my mind. What if she attacks it? What if she ignores it? What if?… Dixie began licking the foal off. Horses are more self-reliant than we give them credit for. Dixie lovingly cared for her foal, and it seemed so unreal that this was really happening.
Around 20 minutes later, the foal, (who we later learned was a boy!!!) was nursing. He was already a pro on his long gangly legs and was trotting and cantering around the pasture, with Dixie following close behind. Two weeks later, after lots of thought and indecision, we named the colt Dauntless, partly to go with Dixie, and partly because of his brave nature.
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