As May draws to a close, people are still coming to meet our new arrival.
As we become acclimated to having our little newcomer around, my grand nieces, Maddy Warden and Emily Matas, and I enjoy a trail ride along the Flint River. The weather is warm enough to ride sleeveless, and the Hepaticas and Spring Beauties are sprouting along the trail. We discover trees that have fallen across the path over the winter, but none that we cannot navigate. It is a perfect ride, start to finish.
My days are completely filled with breathing in Ruby. Zena is so good about sharing. Toward the end of the month, I leave town for two days. When I return, I disappointed to see that Ruby is unusually rambunctious, and less interested in connecting with me. I does not cross my mind that maybe she is just be growing into her play stage. Instead, I blame it on my going out of town. When I ask her to walk with me, or to back up, she wants no part of it. So, in the evening, I sit out in the yard with all of the horses for an hour. It is therapeutic all-around. When I return my chair to the tack room, Ruby follows me in on her own—ahead of the other three girls. After putting grain in the stall bins, I pick up Ruby’s lead—a very new thing for her - and allow her a good deal of time to ponder it. I want her to come with me because she wants to—not because she is being forced. So, I head back in the in the direction of her mom in order to make her decision to acquiesce easier. She does just fine.
The next morning, she readily follows me around during my morning chores and never attempts any of the naughty three—nip, pop-up, or kick-out—typical of playful foals. If she runs up to me too quickly, she clearly understands the word, stop, along with the traffic cop signal for stop.
When Ruby is two weeks old, she becomes constipated. Doc is concerned that Zena is not producing enough milk. He mandates that we be sure that Ruby not have access to water in order to force her to suckle. You will see in the photo below what I have to do to keep Ruby from the water!
Oh, geez! First she is too dry, then too wet! I am not sure what causes the change—maybe she starts suckling more—but, on June 2, Ruby develops a case of the scours—diarrhea. Doc says to make sure she isn’t eating her mother’s feces or getting access to the water tank. I later read somewhere that, in the wild, it is natural for foals to eat their mother's feces. I will have to research this. I have to shampoo her rump and apply Corona cream (a horse product) two or three times a day. The up-side of this is that she is now completely comfortable with me handling the back end of her body.
By June 4, Ruby develops a raw bum. You can see the painfully pink skin in the disgusting photo below. I clean and dress it with a human diaper rash paste.
She remains rambunctious and in good spirits. Kim and I get a chance to snap a photo of her quickly sprouting teeth.
Ruby continues to nurse well, gaining the strength to romp through her days, in spite of her continued scours. Kim's been talking up Ruby at work, and her co-workers come back out to see her.
Even though I have closed my riding school, I still offer an occasional pony program. Children come for a birthday ride on Sparky, but Ruby is the star attraction.
My own son, Andy, stops by to see how much Ruby has grown. He lifted her into his arms on the day she was born—maybe forty-five pounds? - and again today—at a hundred and thirty-seven pounds!
My grand-daughter, Crystal, stops by as often as she can and is building quite a little partnership with Ruby. In the photo below, she is reprimanding Ruby for a nip.
