Page 114 of A Home Among the Snow Gums
Hannah put on her old sheepskin jacket and gloves and pulled a knitted cap over her hair. It was freezing here in Hanrahan. Up in the mountain at Ironbark Station, it would feel like the depths of winter—and that would just be the climate between her and Tom.
Sliding into her green bomb, she crunched the gears into first and took off from the gravelled drive with a spin of wheels. She had a foal to deliver. That’s all. Tom Krauss and his hot hands and cold words could go hang for all she cared. Buttercup and the baby horse were all that mattered today.
She went through all she knew about horses as she drove up the mountain. She’d had flash cards for this sort of stuff back when she was at vet school in Wagga Wagga, and it was amazing what the brain recalled.
A mare is, in general terms, receptive to breeding in autumn with the majority of foals born eleven months later, in spring. Out-of-season breeding season can occur. The term of pregnancy can vary wildly.
Not overly helpful, but it was soothing, snippets of knowledge popping into her head as she drove.
A thoroughbred may only be the product of a live cover: a witnessed ‘natural’ mating of stallion to mare. Thoroughbreds in Australia are given the birthdate August 1 for the purposes of racing.
August 1 was a couple of months away, which meant Buttercup’s foal would be young for her year. In racing, that was not a positive. It meant she or he would be competing against animals that might have ten months more development. Probably why Buttercup had been sold to Tom at a discount price.
1.4 per cent of foals die within two days of birth in Australia.
Okay, that snippet wasn’t so soothing. Tugging her beanie down a little more over her freezing ears, Hannah took a corner in her little green car and flicked on the windscreen wipers as a blast of moisture hit her windscreen. Rain? Hopefully not snow, although there was that special something in the air that smelled like it was coming. Hopefully not tonight. If she had to spend another night in the guest room of Ironbark Station in Mrs L’s dressing gown, she’d be adding a special service fee to the bill. A ‘Just Because’ fee. And it’d be hefty.
The foal was breach. That was the first problem. The second was that Buttercup was a massive horse and Hannah was a short woman. She dried her hand off on a towel and called Josh.
‘Hey,’ he said.
‘You done at the Winfrey farm yet?’
‘Complication. The mama dog has hyperplasia and we’re in the truck now hightailing it into the surgery for a C-section. Pup in the birth canal isn’t going to make it, but I’m hoping we’ll save the others. How’s Buttercup?’
‘Breach.’
‘Hmm. Foal must have turned during the week.’
‘Yeah. I was hoping you and your long brawny arms might be nearby.’
‘Sorry, Hannah. I can come the second I’m done here.’
That would be too late, by the look of Buttercup. The mare was exhausted. This foal had to come out and quickly.
‘I’ll keep you posted.’
‘Han? You’ve got this.’
She swallowed. She’d better. She dropped her phone into her kit bag and turned to Tom.
‘Buttercup’s foal isn’t in the right position. It could be worse, but it’s not ideal: the tail is presenting to the birth canal and the hind legs are tucked up under, pointing forward. Problem is, to get the foal out, we need to turn it.’
‘What can I do?’
‘I’m short. My arms are short. I don’t have the power of a guy. When I’m turning the foal, I need you to wedge yourself in behind me to keep me close to the horse. If I have to brace myself, I’m not going to have enough reach.’
‘I can get Lynette.’
‘Are you crazy? This is no time to get skittish, mate. I needyou, Tom. Now. You promised me no more cop-outs. Not with this horse’s life on the line.’
He looked at her for a long moment, then he nodded. ‘All right.’
Hannah sized up the horse, who was lying on her side, her ribs heaving with the effort of labour. ‘We need to get her up first. The act of walking will slow down the contractions and give us a chance to manipulate the foal in the uterus.’
‘She doesn’t look like she’s getting up any time soon.’
‘So we make her. You pull on her bridle and I’ll encourage her from this end.’
