My wife, Cathy, recently had this story published in the March 2019, Mid-Atlantic Hanoverian Breeder’s (MAHB) Association Newsletter. I’m reblogging it here. Please enjoy her story of life on the farm.

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It is a normal day in late April 2011.  I go to the barn, like I have every day for the past 12 years, both dogs following me.  Holly a Black and Tan Coonhound, and Miles, a Jack Russell, are my constant companions and helpers.

 After arriving at the barn, I put the horses out for a short while, although it is raining.  I have two pregnant mares, one of whom is due any day.  I have been closely monitoring Adancer for over two weeks, making drawings of her teats, looking for changes.  Had she bagged up and I didn’t know?  What about waxing?  I never saw wax (everything but….)  Paranoid, I Inspected her udder daily for changes in size (it ALWAYS looked the same… sigh).

 After cleaning the stalls, I bring Adancer in, as she is the mare closest to her due date.  Uh oh, what’s this?  Milk is shooting from both teats as she walks. Although I haven’t seen a birth up to this point, I know this is it.   Our first two foals were born at another barn. So I didn’t get to see those births.  For our third foal, after weeks of sleeping in the barn, I left to get a cup of coffee.  When I returned, the foal was laying on the ground in the stall.  I was determined that I was going to see this, the fourth birth, first hand.  I put the mare in her stall and watchfully began the rest of my chores. 

 Shortly after this, the repair guy for our Invisible Fence shows up to repair the fence.  “Be quiet,” I say, “my mare is going to have a foal and she must have quiet!”  While he is repairing the fence, I hear scratching noises.  After investigating I find that Miles, the Jack Russell, has fallen between the hay and the barn wall.  I climb up in the hay loft to help.  I can see the mare’s stall from my vantage point and see that the mare is going down.  Quickly, I leave Miles stuck where he is, and come down out of the hay and run to her stall.  Of course, she saw me and stood up. 

 Here comes the Invisible Fence guy, “Ma’am, the fence is repaired.  Do you want me to test it?”  “No,” I say, “my mare is having a baby!”  “OK, how are you going to pay me?” he asks.  “Whaaat, can’t you just send me the bill?” I say.  He comes back with “No ma’am, I have to have payment.”  Thinking fast I tell him to go up to the house, go in the back door through the garage, find a black purse and bring it to me.  Surprisingly, he does this without complaining.  I give him a credit card number and he leaves.  Huge sigh of relief on my part.

 By now the jack Russell has found a way out of the hay and is happily running around, chasing one of our barn cats. 

Back to the mare.  

I look in on her and find her standing but she almost immediately goes down.   I watch quietly praying for an easy birth. Slowly two little hooves come out of the birth canal, followed by the front legs.  The mare is laboring but progress is happening, and the head appears, followed by the neck and shoulders.  The rest of the foal comes out uneventfully.  It lays in the straw, both parties exhausted from their efforts.  Me?  I’m worried.  The foal is still covered with the birth sac.  Should I intervene and pull it away from the foal’s head, so it can breathe?  I hesitate.  The foal sits up inquisitively and looks around, causing the sac to fall to the side.  Whew, no need for me to do anything.   I go into the stall to quickly assess the foal and discover it is a filly.  The first and only filly our breeding program produced.  She is by Royal Prince and is quickly named Rohannah as a play on the name of our farm, Rohan Farm.  She is perfect!  In textbook fashion, Adancer, expels the placenta.  After several attempts, Rohannah gets up to nurse.

 I guess the moral of this story is that yes, mare’s do need quiet but can, and will, have a baby in utter pandemonium if necessary.