Foaling Season

By Patti Brooks

With New England desperate to leave winter behind, it makes me think back to foaling season on our Connecticut Morgan horse farm. On any given year, we expected five to ten foals.

It was early June this particular year, and all but one old mare, Dutch, had foaled. Because the grass was sweet and the breezes gentle, Dutch spent 24/7 in a small pasture, with a shelter, easily seen from the house and barn. Dutch wasn’t due for another ten days.

About 2:00 a.m., our young daughter, Trisha, knocks on our door.

“What is it?” I ask, hoping it’s something I can solve without fully waking up.

“Nera had her baby and is running all around.”

Well, that was easy because Nera was a very old mare who hadn’t foaled in years. She has free range of the farm.

“Go back to bed, Trisha.”

Unfortunately Trisha comes back with the same concern.

Sigh. Could I check this out without getting dressed?  

I go to the door and sure enough, the old mare is galloping between the house and the barn with a new foal trying to keep up. My mind sorts through the possibilities. Dutch must have foaled early. But why does Nera have the foal?

This would take both getting dressed as well as getting my husband up. Grabbing a halter, we hurry out of the house into a noisy night, what with Nera’s frantic running, other mares calling out in concern and a thunder storm moving in. We hurry to Dutch’s pasture, forming a plan as we run.

I catch Dutch up and head for the barn, with the mare screaming for her foal. Nera is making another pass toward the barn. My husband stands in the drive, letting Nera slip through and tackling the foal. (He later said he had never felt a foal’s heart pound so forcefully.)  He picks her up and follows Dutch and me into a stall. 

Dutch clearly said to her foal:  “Don’t leave me like that.” And the foal clearly said:  “Where’s my mom?”

After a good half hour of convincing the foal that Dutch was truly her mom and her food source, we figured out what had happened.

Nera, making her rounds on the farm, stopped to visit with Dutch and stayed with her as she lay down to foal.  But....when the foal got up, she got up on Nera’s side of the fence and said, “Mama!” Nera took off. Not my kid. She was finished with having needy little foals to look after. And the foal raced after her.

All the Morgans we raised carried the “Trijas” prefix. This little one, who spent the first moments of her life running while a thunder storm brewed, was the easiest to name: Trijas Tempest.

Turning a Passion Into a Penny

by Toni Leland

My love affair with horses goes way back, just like most of the horse-lovers in the world. The difference for me is that I was able to take that passion and use it to earn a living!

In the beginning, there were horses in my mind and on my walls and in every sentence I spoke. This is the plight of an 8-year-old horse-crazy girl. Eventually, I actually got a horse and that was even better. But the affliction is one that can get in the way of futures and plans that others (parents) have for you, and so, many years passed before I was able to return to my first love.

In the mid-eighties, I realized the dream of having my very own horse farm. Arabian Horses, to be exact. Of course, the mid-eighties was exactly the wrong time to be getting involved in Arabians, but hey, I was on a roll. Along the way, we acquired a beautiful Morgan Horse mare and expanded our breeding program.

Our first little filly,  Pizazza

Fourteen horses (several of the mares expecting babies) equates to a lot of feed, hay, horseshoeing, and veterinary services. Horses – even really good ones – don’t always earn their keep right away, and the prospect of those yearling sales was a long way off. Time to get a job, but I wanted to stay on the farm, so I began promoting my graphic design capabilities to horse farms and breeders. Soon, I was bringing in a modest salary designing commercial advertising and writing copy for stud services, horses for sale, farms for sale, and promotional pages in breed magazines. That work led to more work and, soon, I was spending less time in the barn. But the horses were eating well!

Fast-forward to the mid-nineties. Much as I loved them, raising horses wasn’t working for me, but serving the horse community was. My beautiful horses found wonderful homes, and I focused on building my business. I continued to write and design well into the New Millennium, and in 2002, I expanded my vistas and dipped my toe into the waters of creative writing. About horses, of course.

Now – eight novels later – I can’t imagine doing anything else with my life. My first book, Winning Ways, was born of nostalgia for the horses I'd been privileged to own. The books that followed brought many issues into play, as well as creating human stories about the people who love horses. Yes, they are like anyone else – they fall in love, they have accidents, they lose loved ones, they follow the wrong path – but the common denominator is an undying love for that wonderful creature, the horse.

Eight and counting...