But she didn’t.She jerked her head away and snorted loudly, her neck muscles going rigid again.She stomped the stall floor, and her ears pointed forward again.At the same time her head carriage lifted high again.
“What’s happening?”Sam asked.
“She’s … I don’t know,piccola.Best to go back out with your mama.”I opened the door of the stall again and quickly ushered her out, while holding onto the reins of Angel’s bridle to help settle her.
She snorted and chewed, licked the air, and the whites of her eyes practically glowed.
I vaguely noticed Sam bury her face in her mother’s shoulder as I stepped into the mare’s space and pressed my forehead to her cheek, whispering the same things I did before.
“What’s … what’s that coming out of her butt?”Sam asked.“Is she pooping?”
“That … that doesn’t look like poop,” Danica murmured, though it was impossible not to detect the alarm in her voice.
I released my grip on the reins a little and gently ran my hand across Angel’s body until I was at her rear.Her tail was lifted and a red, bubbly-like protrusion bulged out from her vagina.“Merda!” I exclaimed, facing Danica and her daughter in panic.“She is in labor, and it is not good.”
Their eyes both flew open wide, and I could practically feel the fear take hold of Sam’s body the way she gripped her mother’s arm, digging her nails into the fabric of Danica’s jacket
Danica wrapped her arm around her daughter.“What do you mean?”
“That bag should be white.The foal is without oxygen.We need to get it outnow!”I rushed out of the stall and over to the bench where all my equipment was stored in an orderly and organized fashion.While I’d only ever assisted one other mare with a delivery, I had all the equipment to do so again, and had read articles and watched videos to keep myself informed.I delivered my son in the back seat of our car on the side of the road when Erin told me she had to push and we were still ten minutes from the hospital.
It was terrifying, but Guiseppe was born healthy and happy, and Erin said she’d never felt safer because she knew I’d never fail her.
Unfortunately, Angel didn’t know me well enough to have such unyielding faith, but I didn’t have time to earn her trust.She just needed to accept that I wasn’t there to hurt her.
I grabbed the long gloves that went up to the armpit, medical tape, scissors, a scalpel, clean towels, and straps that I might need to wrap around the foal’s ankles to help pull it out.
“Let us help,” Danica said.“What can we do?”
I wasn’t used to having people here to help.I was used to doing it all on my own, but more hands would be beneficial because who knew what kind of state the foal would be in when it was born, or whether it would even survive.
I nearly tripped over Portia as she trotted beside back to the stall.I handed Danica my phone.“Call Morty.He’ll know which chopper company to call.He needs to get here ASAP.”
She nodded, then paused.“Uh … password?”
“Oh!2-8-81.”That was Erin’s birthday.August 2nd, 1981.
She punched it in, then got to work finding Morty’s number.A moment later, the phone was to her ear, and she took a step away.
“What can I do?”Sam asked as I opened the stall door again.
“This baby may be dead, or may die,piccola.Are you prepared for that?”
She lifted her chin a little higher, but it was impossible not to see the uncertainty in her eyes.“I want to be a vet.You can’t save every animal, but you can try.”
Damn, she was a brave little thing.
Nodding, I welcomed her back into the stall where Angel was lying down, her nostrils flaring.I checked her rear again.The bright red bag was a disturbing sight.
“We need to get the foal out now.”
As if she knew what I needed from her, Angel stood up, and with that movement, a gush of liquid fled her body around the bag.Her water had broken.
“Did she just pee?”Sam asked.
“That was her water breaking.”
“Okay.What do we do now?”
