As we drove home from our North Carolina vacation, we received a text from my nephew who was overseeing things at home for us, doing chores each day.
“Look what I found!” Todd messaged us, along with a picture of a newborn foal.
My sister had been checking on the mare pony while we were gone, and she saw no sign of impending birth. Equine mares of every size and shape really don’t like to give a single hint that birth is imminent, for fear a human will actually witness the big event.
We know a woman who could afford the best set-up for her horses, including cameras situated at various areas of her birthing pens. She would get up every few hours through the night during foaling season, in hopes of watching the moment of arrival. She said mares in foal seem to even know how to avoid cameras capturing the moment. Until I heard her tell this, I thought it was a situation limited only to our own experience, but I now know it to be quite universally true.
The picture of the little newborn filly made us excited to close the miles between us. The foal was up and strong and perky, and we couldn’t wait to meet her.
As soon as we got home, we headed to the barn. Fancy Pants is an incredible mama, and the filly seemed weeks old rather than just hours old. The filly’s color is a lovely shade of coffee with lots of cream, a perfect white dot on her left side, with four white legs. Her tiny white tail flicking, she was happy to show off for us.
When the morning is sunny and nice, Doug leads her mama to our western pasture, and the filly prances alongside her. Watching a days-old foal run and kick is a pure treat like no other. I have a hard time getting much else done, feeling drawn to the lovely show taking place in our chestnut pasture. It is better than a Broadway show.
Each morning when I return to the house, I start jotting down a list of possible names, but nothing seems quite right for this little beauty. I manage to convince myself I need to watch her run and play a little bit longer, and surely a name will come to me.
And the rest of the chores calling my name will surely wait…
