As daylight broke, the morning after I had to tragically euthanize Rosie’s foal Phantom, a baby that I had loved and anticipated even before he was born. I went back to the stables to let Rosie outside. I knew that she wanted to look for her foal and she did. Watching her and listening to her call for him was one of the most heartbreaking moments in my life. So, I busied myself by cleaning out her stall, replenishing straw, soiled from giving birth with fresh shavings, trying to ignore her frantic whinnies as she ran the diameters of the pasture.
I cannot express the pain I felt, not just because of the loss of our foal, but mostly watching Rosie suffer. This was the first time I had experienced a situation like this. Because of my lack of knowledge, and the incompetence of the veterinarian, I didn’t realize that I should have let Rose see and sniff her foal after he was euthanized. This way she would have a better understanding of the loss. But in the heat of such a traumatic situation, you don’t always think straight. At least I can say that I never made that mistake again!
Somehow, I needed to find a little foal. Not just for Rose, but for me too. Something joyous to fill our loss and sorrow. Surely, somewhere in the vast DFW metroplex there was a foal that needed a good home. Perhaps I could find one that was recently weaned.
The first person I called was my friend who was also the breeder. I told her what had happened, expressing my need to buy a young horse. She listened and said she would call me right back. When I look back on the series of events that took place next, I am filled with absolute awe. My friend had a cherished mare that they used for breeding. A little paint mare, whose previous foals I was very familiar with.
This little mare was very sick, and the decision had been made to euthanize her that morning. The reason they had prolonged her life was because she had a tiny little filly that they were trying to keep alive on the mare’s milk. But, because of her illness, the mare’s milk supply had been poor, leaving the foal small and frail. Even though the filly was two months old, she looked like a two-week-old foal. On top of that, her sire was the same stallion that sired Rose. It was decided, that after they put the mare down, my friend was going to bring the filly over to me and give her to me. I couldn’t believe this was happening!
By 10:00 that morning a big diesel truck pulling a large trailer pulled into my driveway. The truck stopped, and I heard a hearty little whinny echo from it. I cannot tell you the well of emotion I felt as I laid eyes on the most adorable filly. She was perfect! A paint, pure white with a bay and black face, one blue-eye and one brown. Her tail was all white with a black tip. We unloaded her and led her toward Rose, with the baby whinnying the whole way.
Rose heard the calls and could hardly contain herself. It took a great deal of effort to restrain her enough to safely bring the filly into her stall. However, after one sniff, she knew that this baby was not hers! Suddenly, Rose wasn’t interested in cooperating.
I had been smart enough to keep the placenta from Phantom’s birth. We gave Rose another sedative and rubbed the placenta all over the filly, keeping it on her back. Rose took another sniff and began to lick the filly. In just a matter of minutes Rose allowed her to nurse, standing contently, relieved to have her milk engorged utters drained. The moment was pure magic for me. Especially knowing that the filly, named HaDassah’s Heart, which means Star’s Heart, was getting all of Rosie’s rich milk full of colostrum.
By 5:00 that afternoon, HaDassah had completely won the heart of her new mama. This was evident when Rose unhesitatingly shared her oats from the same bucket. By 8:00 that night, you would never have guessed that HaDassah was not Rose’s original foal. The two were inseparable. My head was swimming with how God showed not only me but Rosie and the filly mercy. The three of us desperately needed each other.
Twenty years ago, I wrote the above account of this story. I wrote it as I watched Rosie and HaDassah grazing in the pasture, side by side. I quickly learned that if a family member was with Rose, she accepted a stranger around her baby. But if a stranger tried to get close, without one of us, especially me, Rose’s response quickly scared them away.
Within a week of nursing on Rosie’s milk, HaDassah was thriving. She had doubled her size and was no longer able to walk under Rose’s belly. Her mane and tail had grown. She was walking with a halter and lead. All seemed bright and wonderful, until…
It began with HaDassah scouring. Scouring is the term used when a horse has diarrhea. My veterinarian didn’t tell me, but I have since learned that scouring can occur in foals when they are suddenly taking in more nutrients that they are used to. Especially when the food source is changed too quickly, which was the case with Hadassah.
Knowing how quickly this condition can get out-of-hand, I called my vet. HaDassah’s temperature was normal, all her vital signs were good, so there seemed to be no threat. However, the condition worsened, becoming profusive and was quickly spinning out of control. What’s more, I could tell that my filly was beginning to stress from the condition. Again, I called the vet.
This time HaDassah’s temperature was elevated, confirming my concern that she had developed an infection. The vet started her on antibiotic treatments which required me injecting her three times a day, which she and I both hated! Still her health declined. I called the vet again.
I have since learned that “colitis,” was the condition that we were dealing with and that colitis can quickly become fatal, which it did. All the signs and symptoms were there. HaDassah’s diarrhea increased to an extreme, becoming constant and watery. Her fever elevated. She became listless and was in obvious pain.
The situation climaxed on an evening when Jeff was out-to-town. I called the vet gravely alarmed. By the time he arrived at my house, HaDassah was trying her best to roll in what looked to be full-blown colic. I was trying to wrap my head around how a horse with profuse diarrhea was able to colic. Colic is when a horse has an obstruction in the gut, which causes a buildup of gas which is extremely painful and often deadly. The horse rolls in an attempt to elevate the pain, which can cause the gut to rupture. Therefore, it’s essential to get a horse who’s colicing up and walking.
The vet agreed, it was colic. In addition, HaDassah was having respiratory problems due to pneumonia. Rose was hovering over us concerned too. The vet asked if I could remove Rose, so I called my son Chris to help me with her while I assisted the vet with HaDassah. Bad idea…
Haltering Rose, Chris led her out of the stables into the pasture to walk her, trying to ease her anxiety. In the process, Rose became uncontrollable. I should have known better and simply put Rose into an adjoining stall, but I wasn’t thinking straight. The next thing I knew, Chris’ friend, Brian, ran into the barn wide-eyed and breathless, announcing that Rose had kicked Chris in the head and knocked him out. About the same time Brian appeared, Rose came bolting into the stall. I quickly secured Rose in the adjoining stall, where she would be safe, and instructed Brian to call 911 while I fled to assist Chris.
When I reached him, Chris was sitting up dazed, holding his head. Thankfully, he was alert. An ambulance arrived, took Chris to an excellent trauma center in Fort Worth. I checked on the vet, who told me that the situation with HaDassah was very grave. He wasn’t sure she would survive. I left for the hospital, while Brian stayed my son Andy and daughter Juliann. Halfway to the hospital my phone rang—HaDassah had died.
Upon arriving at the hospital, I was greatly relieved to hear that Chris was alright. He had only suffered a mild concussion; there was no permanent damage. We stayed in the hospital for the rest of the night, arriving home as dawn opened her eyes. After tucking Chris in bed, I found Rose, depressed in the barn docile and exhausted. I was exhausted too, but sleep evaded me.
It wasn’t until I researched the condition of scouring in horses, particularly in young foals and the causes and effects, the I realized that HaDassah was a textbook case. For a couple of decades, her death had remained an embarrassment that left me riddled with guilt.
And may I interject, what happed to HaDassah should have been properly diagnosed by the veterinarian at the first call! This is why a trustworthy, good vet is always needed when you have a horse.
Even after my research on the internet brought clarity to HaDassah’s condition. I was still so embarrassed by her death that I almost didn’t include this sweet filly in my story. But what happened to HaDassah is a story worth telling, so others facing such a similar situation can understand and know they are not alone in their horrific struggle. As horse owners we learn as we go along, facing and learning about conditions when they come our way.
After HaDassah’s death I wrote the following poem:
A NEW BEGINNING
A gentle rest, a quiet peace, that sooths and calms the deepest grief.
His Presence hovers close and near. His words bring comfort chasing fears.
They urge me to keep going on, despite the storm raging on.
A storm that threatens to destroy my faith.
With hurt and death, a senseless waste, my mind can’t understand,
Why He allowed these tragic ends.
And yet, I hear Him say to me;
I’m in control, so trust in Me!
This trauma never was My will. But trust in Me to ease and heal,
The violence you have seen will cease, for in its midst I speak forth peace!
You may not see it with your eye, let faith inside you heart arise!
Now cling to Me My precious child, and speak My promises out loud.
As vicious darkness scares and strikes, My Spirit overcomes the strife.
So, as you walk the shadowed path,
Be still My child—be still and know—That I Am God!
A gentle rain begins to fall. No lightening near, no thundering clouds.
Brings with its tranquil misty drops, the hope of healing from what’s lost.
The promise of a brighter day.
The washing of what’s lost away.
Each raindrop seems to speak and say:
A new beginning starts today.
Now, when I think of Phantom and HaDassah, I see them both grazing beside Rosie in heaven’s pastures. During that time of deep heartache and darkness, I didn’t know what God had in store for Rosie and me. That another baby horse was coming into our lives and that he would bring us both joy beyond our wildest dreams.