The story so far... Crunchie is my 2 year old homebred, out of Josie Jump (she is now sold and happily hunting with The Ledbury)Crunchie was a huge surprise when he was born. Man Friday is his Dad. We knew his mum had been out with Man Friday when he was still a colt and so we had vet Andrew Harrison check her to make sure she was not in foal and Andrew said not. However early Winter next year a chestnut colt foal was reluctantly born. Poor Josie had been struggling a while on her own to foal him. My Dad and I had to help. The foals big head was stuck and we were soon exhausted trying to heave him out. He eventually plopped out and I was certain the foal was dead. Luckily I had helped calf cows and lambs before and set to work on his seemingly lifeless body, I pinched his tongue, it twitched and suddenly he began to breath and shake his wet floppy ears.
Next problem he refused to suck from his Mum. He really did not fancy living! After 6 hours he had not drank so we had to intervene. Another 2 hours passed and he fought and fought and would not drink not even from a bottle. Josie was so good as we had to milk her to get the bottle filled.
The Vet was called. Poor vet was only a young girl and when she arrived she started to check Crunchies heart beat. Anthony rolled his eyes and looked at the vet and said "I know his heart is OK I have been wrestling with him for over 2 hours" I prayed she had read James Herriot's book All Creatures Great And Small and she was prepared for Castlemortons equivalent of "Mr Biggins"
The poor vet then pointed at his crooked and very wonky legs "he will have to be box rested a month until those are straight and he needs to come into the surgery to be bottle fed all night" I told her I was not box resting a 6 hour old foal, he was just squashed into a small mare and would come straight on his own running around outside. It was the start of the Credit Crunch and as he stood to be worth about £50 I explained he won't be coming into the surgery at roughly £300 a night!
Then 4 weeks after he was born it snowed, the worst snow for 20 years, it was over his knees, no wonder he had not fancied living. He had to have a rug on and come in each night and he grew a 2 inch thick winter coat. His late foaling means even now he is confused about what thickness coat to grow, he often has tufts of winter hair hanging on in the middle of June! Now he is 2 yrs old, 15.2 hh and I have just finished long reining him. He was very good, very much like his Mum no bucking or rearing. He was fab over the spooky jumps and even trotted a tiny double. Today I have turned him out for the winter and he will be back in for breaking in about 12 months.
The poor vet then pointed at his crooked and very wonky legs "he will have to be box rested a month until those are straight and he needs to come into the surgery to be bottle fed all night" I told her I was not box resting a 6 hour old foal, he was just squashed into a small mare and would come straight on his own running around outside. It was the start of the Credit Crunch and as he stood to be worth about £50 I explained he won't be coming into the surgery at roughly £300 a night!
And so Crunchie had his first essential drink of milk via a stomach tube, he did not like that much. Then every 2 hours for the next 18 hours Ant and I fed him from a bottle all through the night. Each time we had to first milk Josie and then bottle feed him right under her so he linked the milk supply to her. He wouldn't suck and we had to use a bottle with a long spout (normally used for calfs) to force it down him. Each time he threw us to the floor and kicked and fought. Milking Josie each time and fighting with Crunchie took so long that as soon as my head was back on my pillow it seemed it was time to go and do it all again. Then thank goodness Ant suggested we miss a feed and see what happens, it worked as the hungry Crunchie had now a taste for warm milk and he found his own way to his Mums built in supply.
Then 4 weeks after he was born it snowed, the worst snow for 20 years, it was over his knees, no wonder he had not fancied living. He had to have a rug on and come in each night and he grew a 2 inch thick winter coat. His late foaling means even now he is confused about what thickness coat to grow, he often has tufts of winter hair hanging on in the middle of June! Now he is 2 yrs old, 15.2 hh and I have just finished long reining him. He was very good, very much like his Mum no bucking or rearing. He was fab over the spooky jumps and even trotted a tiny double. Today I have turned him out for the winter and he will be back in for breaking in about 12 months.
No comments:
Post a Comment