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Then I saw her behind the barn standing over what appeared to be a pile of manure. I called to her but she stood fast and just looked at me. I thought I saw the manure move. As I walked toward her I was amazed to see that the manure pile was actually the tiniest chocolate foal I’d ever seen. It was mostly just a head with twisted little legs. It struggled to rise but could not.
Savannah
was a maiden mare and seemed to be totally confused and perplexed. Near the live foal was the almost unrecognizable form of a twin that had died in the womb and was mummified.
It was plain to see that this littlest of foals was in serious trouble and probably would not survive more than a few hours. She struggled so hard over and over to get to her feet to nurse but those frail bent little legs just would not allow it. Her eyes were so alive. Her heart wanted to live but she was just not developed enough. The twinning had resulted in this foal being born dysmature.
Our veterinarian Billy Meyers was summoned and arrived in less than an hour. We immediately began talking to him about what we needed to do to help this little filly survive. The look we got from Billy was one that you would give a couple of imbeciles who wanted to build a rocket to the moon. He told us that saving this twin far exceeded his capabilities. Our only chance was to take her and
Savannah
straightaway to the
University
Of
Georgia School Of Veterinary Medicine
. When we asked how much he thought this would cost, his reply was curt, “An arm and a leg”. That would prove to be a reasonable assessment.
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| I busied myself hooking up the trailer for the 22-mile haul to the university. Billy just shook his head pitifully and began making the referral calls to the veterinary school. We weren’t privy to the conversation but I’ve always wondered how it went. “Here come two fools with credit cards that need to be maxed out” is a possibility. We loaded
Savannah
and gently placed the baby on a blanket in the shavings nearby. |
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A half hour later the staff at the university greeted us and promptly took
Savannah
and her baby to be evaluated. If they also thought we were foolish in our undertaking they hid it well. Perhaps they’d become accustomed to folks like us. We had decided some time back that we would name the new foal
Dixie
if it were a filly.
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| When we related that information to the staff we were advised that it was bad luck at the
Vet
School
to name a foal that was this critical. We should wait a while. They just called her “Littles” because of her size. She weighed only 27 pounds, hardly a third of the weight of a normal
Rocky
Mountain
foal.
After
Savannah
and Littles were evaluated they were admitted to ICU. Littles could not stand to nurse, and
Savannah
had no milk. Knowing what we know now, we would not have gone to such extreme measures to keep this little filly alive; but it was heart wrenching watching the little girl struggle to live. We gave the go ahead to do what they could for her.
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The university gave a dismal prognosis. They hooked her up to IV’s and assigned attendants to “live” with her 24/7. I don’t think they expected her to live more than a day or two, but she did. |
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We brought
Savannah
home after a couple of days. Each day we expected to hear the bad news. It didn’t come. Eventually Littles was released from ICU and given her own little stall. She was administered to hourly and her legs were splinted because the bones had not calcified. |
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The next problem was getting Littles to nurse. A goat was introduced to her. Unfortunately, it took two people to hold the goat and one to hold Littles. We resorted to bottled goat’s milk. We visited her and watched her thrive and grow. When her condition had been stabilized and she was nursing well, she came home. |
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Then came the hard part! We set up a pen in our garage which would be Littles home for most of the year. She had to be fed and medicated every two hours. Whew! We made frequent follow up visits to the vet school. She was still so small that Robyn would get in the back seat of the truck, and I would pick Littles up and hand her to Robyn. We definitely got a lot of “double takes” as we rode down the highway. I expect a lot of people thought it was a chocolate lab, albeit a strange looking one! |
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Littles became one of the major attractions in our county. Everyone wanted to come feed the little horse in our garage, and she loved all the attention.
She had several operations on her legs throughout the year, we spent many hours taking bandages off, treating her legs, and putting bandages back on her. Even after she could venture outside, she still lived in the garage. She had free range of our yard, but every time we came outdoors or drove up in the truck, Littles would greet us.
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| Today Littles is a healthy five-year old mare. She lives in the pasture with our other horses, but if we turn her out in the yard, she’ll join us on the deck for cocktails. She’s about the size of a yearling and makes a wonderful companion for our babies when they are weaned. We don’t think she knows she is a horse. I call her a yard ornament. Robyn calls her our yard dog. We registered her as Little Gemini. But she will always be Littles to us.
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| Littles (on the left) as a 3-year old with pasture buddy, Maggie Belle. |
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