A few weeks ago I had a tragedy on my little farm. I have a tiny herd of tiny horses. Cute little things. Great pasture ornaments!

My 3 year old mare, Teddie, was expecting her first foal. Steady, even tempered Teddie is a precious little lady. Huggable and gentle. Perfect.

Pasture breeding means even tho I keep a close eye on them all, I am not exactly sure on the breeding date. Not the best situation but I can usually tell when they are close and get them into stalls so they will be safe when the time comes.

This time I failed.

She wasn't exhibiting solid signs of being ready. Sometimes, they don't.

I always go out at dawn, take the dog with me, and check on everyone to make sure we all made it thru the night. It was cold. icy.

Teddie was in a panic, up and down, up and down. I quickly saw the problem even in the low light, and it was horrible.

Teddie was dragging a dead foal. Solidly stuck. It hadn't been long. But it was definitely too long.

I tried, I really did. She braced her feet and I pulled. No luck.

A call to All Creatures, and they would be on their way asap. But probably an hour. A very long hour.

I kept her calm. Talking to her and telling her it was going to be ok. That she was going to make it. I think she believed me.

The Vet was amazing. I watched her every step. Every movement. I held Teddie's head and talked to her. Doc worked quickly lubricating and feeling for the problem, and with a bit of pain meds, the foal was out. It had been stuck with one rear foot forward, and jammed next to its pelvis, making the hips too wide to make it thru. No tearing. The prognosis was guarded, tho.

Poor Teddie. I hid the baby from her quickly. Depression is real in horses.

The next few days would be crucial; would she be able to fight the inevitable infection from the trauma?

Yes, she did. Antibiotics, careful feeding, gentle hugs and she made it. She is fine.

Fast forward to today.

Two more mares were due. Penned up in their stalls for the past week. Well bedded. Well fed.

At dawn this morning, I went out.

Brand new baby had just hit the hay. Lovely little paint foal. Momma, tho, was having a hard time. Up and down, up and down. Obviously in discomfort.

I got her to eat a little stock salt, which made her get up and take a long drink of water. Within a few hours, she was steady and being a proud momma.

Of course, watching the birth and seeing the new foal inspired my favorite mare, Stormy. Stormy is a dapple grey and she is also Teddies mother. I have Teddie because she is just as perfect as her mother. Calm, affectionate, intelligent. Stormy is named for her color, not her personality.

I watched her all day. Checking every 30 minutes or so. I was in the yard trimming some ornamental grass and she called me. I heard her call out to me.

I went to check and I could see the toes. Nose was peaking out next. Baby was coming!

And then.... jammed.

She pushed. Hard. Nothing.

She panicked! Thrashed and rolled and called out. I told her to behave and lay back down! She did.

I grabbed hold and pulled when she pushed. Nothing.

But I knew.

I did what I learned. Feeling first on one side, the ribcage, the mare's pelvic bones. It felt clear.

Then the other side. She was panting now.

And, there was a rear foot forward, jammed against the foals hip, jamming it exactly as the other had been. I pushed the foot back with my finger tips, gave a hard tug to the foal and whoosh, the baby had arrived.

But, the amniotic sack didn't tear. Baby couldn't breath. I tore it open and briskly rubbed its ribs. A gasp. It was alive.

Within a half hour it was up and...running.

Yes, running laps around momma, who was exhausted. I actually had to laugh out loud when she rolled her eyes and snorted in exasperation. But she's a good momma.

As I type this, all appears to be well. Mommas are nursing their new babies. It has been a day, and I am going to bed.

Credit to Erin Cranfill DVM. and Katelynn Grissum for teaching me, and saving Teddie.