Talk To The Hoof: Hudson Talks To Barbie

Dear Humans,

Jane is over the edge.  Understandable.  But she does have a blog to run.  I am completely in the loop.  I have informants. I will run the blog. Talk to The Hoof will be my new column.

I talked to Barbie on the barn phone yesterday (BTW, Daisy: you left your phone in the feeder tub in her stall. You’re lucky. She found it rather tasteless.) She’s sore, but well.

She metaphorically bit my head off.  Barbie felt I could have explained the whole foaling procedure more clearly. I played the gelding card (what do we know?) and she’s somewhat mollified. I spoke to Murphy, who of course, had no clue what he was hearing. But that whinny.  He whinnied at me!

According to Barbie this is what happened: she started feeling sort of colicky, but rather far back, away from her stomach. She said it was a squeezy constricted feeling? Next thing she knew, she was laying in the straw being horribly squeezed. She said it was like being ripped open and left to die.
(This is why she is mad at me. For not explaining exactly where the foal came out.  But I appeal to you…would YOU have a baby if you knew where it came out? Of course not.)

Barbie jumped on me: “You said I was on camera!  That the humans would see  me colicking on camera and come help!” She was steamed.

“Barbs, the human came, right?  As soon as you started hurting?”

“Well, yeah.  But it’s not like she did anything.  She just watched me. I nearly died! Humans. She could have given me a shot or something. At the very least she could have brought me a Margarita.”

Better change the subject, she’s gonna blame me.

“How did you feel when you saw the baby?”, I said.

“Baby?  I thought that thing on the straw was my stomach. I thought about trampling it, but I was too tired. I was dying, Hudson. You didn’t tell me I was going to DIE”.

“Um. You didn’t die”, I say, “and look what you got.”

“Well. I could have”, she said, “and what I “got” was HURT. You have no idea. Why couldn’t I have been born a gelding?”

I hear a hoof stomp.

“You didn’t hurt him, though, right?”, I say.

Continue reading “Talk To The Hoof: Hudson Talks To Barbie”

Barbie Yesterday (The No Baby Update)

Yawn warning: this is a video of a pregnant horse eating.  That’s it.

Barbie not giving birth, yesterday, five days after her due date:

On a humorous note, I saw the baby either kick or roll, a slight bulge outward in the area behind her ribs, then gone.  Barbie’s head jerked up from the grass. Her muzzle wrinkled and her ears pinned. She raised a hind leg to kick at her belly, paused, put her hoof down.

The baby pushed on her side.  Kicking her stomach? Wrong spot.

She put her head back down to eat, and lashed her braided, VetWrap-lumped tail against the exact spot I’d seen move, effectively “smacking” the baby with the hard lump.

She might know there’s a creature in there.

And I think she is not going to be one of those push-over mares, who don’t discipline their foals well. Commando Mom.  Has a nice ring to it.

I must admit, I was awed at her intelligence.  She wanted to whack whatever punched her and was going to make sure she hit it back correctly!

The Eating Monster

I got a text from Daisy:

Daisy: Barbie is an Eating Monster!  Almost lost a limb. Grained her.

Jane: She’s telling baby HERE eat your own food and eating twice as much?

Daisy: Yes. YOU feed her.

Jane: I value my arms.  Do we have a long stick?

Daisy: We did ten minutes ago.  Gone.

She’s been carrying high, she’s a racing stock TB, a maiden mare, and she hasn’t wanted to look hugely pregnant.  Now she doesn’t care.

Just FEED ME.

She was attacking the grass with such ferocity her teeth were showing.

Here’s our baby:

April, April, April!

I said to Daisy: you know we are going to have thousands of baby photos. It’s going to be adorable every second.

I’ll probably be banned from the barn.

But I am so going to win the baby pool.  We’re placing bets on her delivery date.