Let the wailing begin

and it has----weaning of all three foals happened at about 6:30 tonight.

Weaning is never what you expect it to be. I thought the Wonk would not care-not only will he be six months old tomorrow, he is pretty independent from his mother. He has raised three times the hell anyone else has over this situation. And boy is he loud. Taz does not seem bothered at all, and Bambi is kind of the middle one. I threw them all in a monster stall together, after their shots and the great separation, so they can distract each other and not be totally in shock.

I do that most of the time, although normally I do it in pairs. I did not want to leave one alone this time--esp since I had planned for it to be Wonkers, but he was so upset, I could not do it--so they are all together. The stalls are massive, so I do not worry about that. Or I did not until I saw Taz lay one on Wonkers for no reason at all. I will not keep them together for long, but to get them through the first few days, I will let them be together.

So I did it, reinforced the barn aisleway in case we have any climbers (you think they cannot do it, but hell hath no fury like a newly weaned baby, and they can surprise you with their wilyness and craftiness), and went back to work. Two hours later I returned. It was pretty dark out, and QUIET.

That is either great or terrible. Its hard to say about things like that. I parked outside the front gate-barrier number four to the big wide world, just in case-- and started moseying in. The first thing I saw was all three mothers standing at a gate staring at the barn. That just breaks my heart, especially for Haida Girl as this is her first baby and she probably does not understand. As I walked to the barn, the mamas let loose--one starts and the others start falling like dominos. Ugh, that makes me feel awful. I think they were trying to tell me something was bad wrong--did they already forget that I am the one that did it? Maybe so.

The babies stayed quiet until they knew I was there, then they started crying. Its awful. Kind of cute though that I had to drag Playmate out of her dinner stall to go out to play--she was supervising the babies over the stall divider. I guess I know what her job will be this fall and winter--babysitting. I also remember why I used to go out of town when we did this, leaving hard hearted and partially deaf Barry to deal with it.

The worst part of weaning? going to check on them every few hours to make sure they are okay. I want them to stay in their stall, uninjured, un-colicy, un-hysterical, and eating and drinking well. If the mamas are still hanging out up front after work tomorrow, I will have to move them to another pasture, which is not a huge deal, but makes my life harder. From there though, there is way less hollering and crying because they 15 acres apart....that is what we normally do, but it was not convenient tonight. Lets hope it does not matter.

I hope I get through this without crying myself.

Assorted things

Party for Charlie was fun- I think he was surprised. I got pics of course, but now my camera is acting up.

I fed the first Strategy tonight--very exciting for me. I am such a dork.

I also weaned two babies. First was Vixen, Foxy's baby. Barry was not kidding, Foxy is a mess---she went to hell over the last week. She was down last week, but she looks today like she has been locked in a closet since then. I started her on the Panacur Power pak, but I did not have the heart to cut her off grain and put her on plain grass hay like I normally do a mare that just weaned her baby. So I stalled her, poured her a healthy dose of Strategy and put a crappy bale of grass hay and about 20 pounds of alfalfa in there. She will have an ouchy udder I guess, but she has to have a heavy influx of calories. I could not even make myself take a pic she looks so horrid. I cannot imagine what is wrong with her---guess I will get a full blood workup, a teeth float, etc and get her on the right track. Sigh.

To give Vixen a friend, I also weaned Riot--not only is Lucky struggling like she always does with her weight while nursing, Riot is friggin huge. I had no idea HOW huge she was until I put her into the stall with Vixen, who I thought was normal size. If she is, Riot is Big Foot. This makes no sense to me. The obvious difference is that Riot has been eating what her mom eats--ninety eleven pounds of senior and beet pulp and oil, and Vixen has been on sweet feed with her mom. Oddly, I noticed how good Lucky is looking now. Aint that about right?

This is a huge wake up call to me. Thank you to all of those who have refrained from pointing it out before now. It is not that I did not know, but it has never been so clear to me like it was tonight. Things are changing around here and in a hurry, and the strategy is a first step, the new hay is a second, and I am on the lookout for what else needs to be done.

I checked back in around 9:30--3 hours after I left, and the sad side effect I expected is occurring. Grandpa is standing at the fence looking like he lost his best friend--intently staring at the barn. Lucky is still hollering but not at the rate she was-- I could not move her from her regular place as I could not keep feeding her the old people protocol if I did. This keeps her within talking difference to the barn where Riot is right now, unfortunately. She too will have to deal with ouchy udder...for a bit at least.

Now the question is whether I get Riot fully weaned, move Lucky elsewhere and give her back to Grandpa? Or what do I do? the change in him when he has a baby is downright freaky, and I hate to deprive him of that.

I cannot answer all of these questions tonight, partly because Slater is growling at the pig who is underfoot trying to catch food he drops, Thor is barking for no reason and I cannot find Simba in this house (who probably ran away because there is not enough dog food for the night). I have not even had dinner yet and dont know if it is worth getting up for at this point. I like my nights to myself when Barry is gone, but sometimes, I wish I could go to bed and say to hell with it without having to deal with the aftermath in the morning.