On the outside, it was wrapped in sparkling white. I avoid going out in it of course. It’s cold. Darling can’t resist it’s allure, however, and before long she had on her bright red coat and a santa hat and was traipsing about out in the pasture. I couldn’t resist following along with the camera.
Yesterday morning I climbed out of bed knowing it would be the last time I would say good morning to Quiet Storm. Neither Darling or I were looking forward to it. The horses whinnied and nickered and made their pleasing morning sounds, happy that I’d made it through the two or three inches of snow. Yes, they know me all too well and realize that even that little amount will cause me to delay my morning trip to the barn.
I picked up the hay, had half of it fall down the front of my pajamas (farm diva, remember?), and walked to those nice windows that City Boy had put in the barn that enables me to just toss in the hay without being mauled walking through paddocks. Upon opening Firecracker’s, I spotted something bright red. I searched my brain in an attempt to remember what may have been left out within reach. The shape was unfamiliar; it was like a big red ball, only flat.
And that’s when it hit me. Firecracker had aborted her foal. It was laying in the snow, all crimson in color, abandoned by a mother who knew there was no hope. She had been farther along than we’d thought. The placenta was completely in tact, no holes or tears, but I could clearly see the outline of a well developed foal inside. Head, legs, tiny little hooves, and even ears and eyes.
I was sure Darling would be devastated. I’d only just tried consoling her over the sale of Quiet Storm with the thought of a new foal to look forward to. I needn’t have worried. My farm diva in training shrugged, “Life happens,” she said. And death, too, I thought. We’d not had time to grow attached to the idea of a foal, which was good. Still, I began to think of this crimson and white day as Black Sunday.
An hour later our beloved Quiet Storm was loading into a trailer with her new owner. Stephanie is a doll, an absolute doll. She’s fallen in love already (but we knew she would, right?) and emailed me no less than three times from her phone to let me know how good the drive was going back to Oregon. We’ll miss our girl, to be sure, but time will heal that sense of loss and Quiet Storm will be well loved in Stephanie’s hands.
Time for me to head out and feed Jet and Firecracker. Hope y’all have a wonderful day, and if you think about it, click the Blog Village link for me.
Oh! One more thing…I’ve just started a photo blog; Mesteno, Photography by Tracey and Darling. Leave comments on your favorite photos…I’m thinking of doing a photo of the month; the photo with the most comments gets to be the header the following month. Enjoy the photos!