Rural Heritage December 2025/January 2026

by Ralph J. Rice We waited anxiously for our last foal of the year to be born. The mare was a maiden, so we kept a very close eye on her and her symptoms of impending birth. Every evening, she was brought into a big box stall full of soft bedding. There we could watch her on camera. Every two hours through the night either my wife or I would check the camera for any signs of foal delivery. Finally, in the early morning hours, my wife woke me telling me the mare had just delivered her foal. I jumped out of bed and into my clothes and rushed to the barn. The mare was standing over her foal licking him off. He was laying in the straw shaking his head. He was a nice-sized colt, not too big or too little. A white star in the middle of his forehead and a very The mare “cleaned,” as I came through the door. I checked the afterbirth for any foul signs and to be sure that it was all there. (If you sort of stretch it out, it looks like a pair of pants.) I was satisfied that all was well. I cleaned up that mess, while keeping an eye on the foal. He made a couple half-hearted attempts to get up, a common sight for a newly born foal. His exercise made him poop. This is another good sign, as the black, tarry meconium is passed from his digestive tract. Just a couple minutes later, more, better colored and formed poop came out. I checked the mare’s udder and teats. I wiped them off making sure to clean between the teats up on her udder. This is a place where a black “smegma” And He Died Anyway… faint stripe that extended to the tip of his nose. The stripe was barely visible, unless you got close to him. He was alert, up-headed and athletic looking.

The colt has just been delivered and is still wet.

Ten hours later, the colt stands after being lifted.

Rural Heritage

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