PaintHorseJournal-2010-December V2:Layout 1

– Farewell
Losing
16/5/92 t
At 5pm when we arrived at the Equine Surgery our beloved, all time favourite mare
Skipastaray (Skippy) weighed in at 620kg and looked magnificent, but boy how looks
can be deceiving as by 8:04pm she was gone forever. It was unbelievably hard to accept,
especially considering that she looked so well and her symptoms were so small, like
picking up and resting her back feet. The truth, however, was that she was inoperable
as a result of foaling complications, and had we not picked up on what was happening
she soon would have been in incredible pain. The fact that she did not suffer gave us
great consolation.
Skippy normally would foal like clockwork and without incident, five days short of a year.
This year would be the exception as the weather was woeful in Victoria and despite
foaling in a nice dry large stable she hung on to the foal for one year and four days. After
the initial signs of foaling she went into inertia. It took both the vet and I all our strength
to get the foal out as he was so big. Although it didn’t go great and there were initial concerns
we were supposed to be home and hosed if she made it to lunch time. She did and
for the next two days I had the vet out to Skippy at least twice a day and every time
the result was the same, heart rate good, temperature good, gut sounds good. So why
was it then that as I watched her on the CCTV all night that she just didn’t look right?
She just wasn’t acting like her normal I’m starving, give me some more food now, pooping
machine self! She just would stand there with her bum in the corner of the stable,
resting one back leg, then the other.
After two days of this behaviour, the local vet finally agreed that she wasn’t right as her
heart rate went up and off we went to surgery.
Inside the clinic prior to the surgery it seemed like there were vets everywhere so I felt
a little awkward when I was hugging Skip, just praying for a good result. Even up to the
last minute prior to surgery as she stood quietly in the crush getting scanned, all she
was worried about was her baby foal, only two days old. When we left the vet that night
and got in the truck to drive home I felt like I couldn’t breathe and was physically ill. By
the next morning the river of tears that had flowed that night had taken its toll on me
and I had broken out in hives.
The next day I went back to the clinic to pick up the foal and was
presented with a plaited section of Skippy’s tail and her forelock
which just killed me inside. I was crying, the receptionist was crying
and basically anyone who was unfortunate enough to come into
contact with me did too. The vet was very mindful, explaining the
whole situation in detail and was careful to say that the damage
was done during the delivery because the foal was so
big and was inoperable from the minute she gave birth.
Somehow, it still didn’t make me feel any better.