Sunday, April 10, 2011

Three Thousand Words

Monster Truck.

Pretty Baby.

Spotty. (Needs New Name.)


I have heard that all days are the same length. But some seem much longer. They go on and on.

Yesterday was one of those days.

The farmer had a lot to do. Some helpers were coming to help with chores and to start mending the fence which is bedraggled from the winter and to get hay since we ran out and won't make it to July and if you keep buying hay a bale at a time from the feedstore pretty soon you will be signing your place over to the bank and then the next thing you know we will all have to join the Big Apple Circus (see below) and I wouldn't mind seeing the world but not on horseback I prefer to travel on dry land. So anyway there was a big load of hay coming and that means getting the elevator out and making sure it works and sweeping the loft and borrowing a big hay trailer and finding someone with a four wheel drive truck to help.

So all those things were done and everyone piled into the truck to go to the big barn to get the first load of hay and I couldn't get a word in edgewise. I was trying to talk to the farmer but I couldn't get a word in edgewise. And the truck left and I circled around in my stall and made a nest.

An hour later the truck came back and then there was the clatter of the elevator and a hundred bales going up into the hayloft. I perfected my nest and laid down to push.

I pushed for a few minutes and the farmer came downstairs to get some hay hooks and I hollered, "Excuse me! Please get the special treats ready including the Gatorade and the licorice whips!"

But the farmer went on stacking hay and arranging things and nobody listened to me. Finally I heard the elevator go quiet and they all came downstairs again and by this time I screamed my unmistakable scream and the farmer finally yelled, "Millie is having her kids!" and sprang into action which would have been nice two hours before that but better late than never.

Out came the first one, Blackie, a tiny tiny tiny little girl.

Out came the next one, Pretty Baby, a small tri-color girl.

Out came the third one, Monster Truck, a strapping boy. He was backwards with one leg twisted under and the farmer pulled him out but I could have done it myself it was just a timesaver.

"My goodness," said the farmer, "you have really outdone yourself, Millie."

There were some children there and they tend to notice things and one of them said, "I think there is another one coming out."

"That is probably the afterbirth," the farmer explained.

Out came the fourth one, a beautiful girl who is going to need a better name than Spotty.

That was all.

They all got up and drank except Blackie. She was very weak. The farmer and the children helped her get some milk, but she was still too weak to stand. So she went on the bottle, but the farmer would bring her back between times and put her with the others. I tried to get her up but she could only wobble her head around a little bit.

Then the farmer tubed her and she seemed a little better. But she still couldn't stand up. I licked her while she slept. The day went on and on, with the rest of the hay coming in. Blackie slept while all the others got up and walked around. Monster Truck grew rounder and rounder, he started to look like an orange with four legs.

After the night feeding the farmer came out to get Blackie. I was trying to wake her up but I couldn't. The farmer picked Blackie up very gently and sat for a minute and petted me. I kept licking Blackie in the farmer's lap trying to wake her up.

I thought the farmer would be able to wake her up if I couldn't.

But the farmer couldn't wake her up either.

"She was very tiny, Millie," the farmer finally said. And then the farmer took Blackie away.

It was a long day. A very long day.

But not long enough.