My friend Carl called the house last night to tell us that Fergi’s water had broken. I had just finished a delicious plate of fish and quinoa, rushed upstairs to throw my chore clothes back on, and high-tailed it to his house. I’ve missed 3 births since I’ve been here and I was not going to miss a fourth!
Fergi was in good shape when I arrived, though fairly restless. She would be up on her feet walking around or having a munch, pushing straw behind her with her hooves to make a soft bed for her baby. Then she would lay down and moan and push for a bit. Then she’d be up again. Carl and I sat in the barn waiting patiently, and coaxed this big mama along.
Finally Fergi started to grunt and push with gusto… a hoof poked its way out into the world… then a little nose… then a tiny head. The hind quarters followed quickly after and a tiny body slid freely out onto the hay-covered barn floor. A big, healthy buckling!
Fergi cleaned her baby off and Carl helped the kid latch onto her teat for a well-earned feast.
I’ve never been present for a birth of any kind before. The experience was incredible. Seeing something come into this world and take its first labored breath… not many things could top that. Maybe walking on the moon… yeah, that’s probably about the only thing.