Tears fell on the face of the Earth.
May. 21st, 2011 10:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
The radio was playing a song by Joel Plaskett when I started up the car this morning; the refrain, over and over again, went And tears fell on the face of the earth. I have shed enough tears this past 48 hours to cover the face of the earth I think..
We lost our beautiful Phaedra on Thursday night. She gave birth to a strong, healthy, gorgeous baby boy at 7:10 p.m. All seemed to be going smoothly, except that the cord broke early, before he was all the way out, and there was a lot of blood in her uterus because of it. We were worried and called our Vet, who told us that when the cord breaks early, there will be lots of blood that she has to expell, but it should be okay. We watched her for several hours until things seemed to have settled; the bleeding stopped, and she looked tired but was comfortable. Sue and I went to bed, thinking all was well around midnight. At 2:30 I was awake, thinking I'd just go check on them..I tiptoed into the barn, shone my flashlight into the stall..and there she was, dead. Poor little baby was curled up at her back. I ran back into the house to tell Sue....and the rest of the night and day were just so terribly sad, I can hardly bear to talk about it. The Vet came at 6 a.m. to check the baby, and told us that Phaedra most likely died of a massive internal hemorrhage, from an artery in the broad ligament that sometimes ruptures when the mare strains during delivery. When that happens, there is absolutely nothing that can be done; even if he had been standing beside her, all he would have been able to do was watch her die.
We are so devastated. She was such a beautiful horse, and we loved her so much, from the day almost 15 years ago that she was born in our field, til the day she left us.
We have to keep going, because now we have to raise her son. The Vet put out a call for a foster mare, but we're going to bottle feed him and raise him by hand. He's strong and so incredibly sweet and friendly; it just kills us to see him all alone in his stall, but he seems quite happy, and we all give him lots of love and attention. Jack calls him his little Buddy, and the nickname has stuck. Between Sue, Jack, Kelly and me, we've set up a schedule so that he gets fed every 1 to 2 hours during the day, and a little less often from midnight to six. He is drinking like a trooper, a special formula called Foal-Lac. I went out and bought some baby bottles today, to add to the one we had. Jack and our friend Mihai have been trying to rig up a system so that he can have free access to a feeding station; there are buckets with nipples that calves use, but that wasn't too successful. Jack found a 2 litre bottle with a nipple that we think we can secure to the stall wall, but for now it's all hands to the bottles. The Vet came this morning to check him again, and he's lending us a heat lamp for the stall, because we have to keep him warm. He's wearing a lovely little foal blanket, and is very snug in it. He's going to be fine, and he's bonded with us all, so we're his family now. Our little Buddy. We promised Phaedra that we'd all look after her boy for her.
Yesterday we buried Phaedra in a lovely shady spot at the bottom of the field. A really nice man, a friend of Mihai's, brought his big backhoe and dug her grave, and then gently lowered her in. We all cried, and put flowers in with her, and watched as she was covered with soil. As we were walking back down the field, Sue looked at her watch; it was almost exactly 24 hours from the time Buddy was born. Our world turned upside down in a heartbeat.
Rest peacefully, dear girl. We love you, and you'll always be part of the farm with us.
Tears fell on the face of the earth today, and watered your grave. Soon I will plant a rose bush there to mark your resting place.
We lost our beautiful Phaedra on Thursday night. She gave birth to a strong, healthy, gorgeous baby boy at 7:10 p.m. All seemed to be going smoothly, except that the cord broke early, before he was all the way out, and there was a lot of blood in her uterus because of it. We were worried and called our Vet, who told us that when the cord breaks early, there will be lots of blood that she has to expell, but it should be okay. We watched her for several hours until things seemed to have settled; the bleeding stopped, and she looked tired but was comfortable. Sue and I went to bed, thinking all was well around midnight. At 2:30 I was awake, thinking I'd just go check on them..I tiptoed into the barn, shone my flashlight into the stall..and there she was, dead. Poor little baby was curled up at her back. I ran back into the house to tell Sue....and the rest of the night and day were just so terribly sad, I can hardly bear to talk about it. The Vet came at 6 a.m. to check the baby, and told us that Phaedra most likely died of a massive internal hemorrhage, from an artery in the broad ligament that sometimes ruptures when the mare strains during delivery. When that happens, there is absolutely nothing that can be done; even if he had been standing beside her, all he would have been able to do was watch her die.
We are so devastated. She was such a beautiful horse, and we loved her so much, from the day almost 15 years ago that she was born in our field, til the day she left us.
We have to keep going, because now we have to raise her son. The Vet put out a call for a foster mare, but we're going to bottle feed him and raise him by hand. He's strong and so incredibly sweet and friendly; it just kills us to see him all alone in his stall, but he seems quite happy, and we all give him lots of love and attention. Jack calls him his little Buddy, and the nickname has stuck. Between Sue, Jack, Kelly and me, we've set up a schedule so that he gets fed every 1 to 2 hours during the day, and a little less often from midnight to six. He is drinking like a trooper, a special formula called Foal-Lac. I went out and bought some baby bottles today, to add to the one we had. Jack and our friend Mihai have been trying to rig up a system so that he can have free access to a feeding station; there are buckets with nipples that calves use, but that wasn't too successful. Jack found a 2 litre bottle with a nipple that we think we can secure to the stall wall, but for now it's all hands to the bottles. The Vet came this morning to check him again, and he's lending us a heat lamp for the stall, because we have to keep him warm. He's wearing a lovely little foal blanket, and is very snug in it. He's going to be fine, and he's bonded with us all, so we're his family now. Our little Buddy. We promised Phaedra that we'd all look after her boy for her.
Yesterday we buried Phaedra in a lovely shady spot at the bottom of the field. A really nice man, a friend of Mihai's, brought his big backhoe and dug her grave, and then gently lowered her in. We all cried, and put flowers in with her, and watched as she was covered with soil. As we were walking back down the field, Sue looked at her watch; it was almost exactly 24 hours from the time Buddy was born. Our world turned upside down in a heartbeat.
Rest peacefully, dear girl. We love you, and you'll always be part of the farm with us.
Tears fell on the face of the earth today, and watered your grave. Soon I will plant a rose bush there to mark your resting place.