Dancer's First Night

Posted by Roie R. Black on Sat 06 February 2016

I have wanted to tell this story for years, but never took the time to put it together. Unfortunately, some of the names are lost in the fog of time. The event happened about 35 years ago.

Pony Creek

My good friends, John and Jayna, own a farm where we used to board our Arabian horse herd (which maxed out at nine horses). The farm was in Council Bluffs, Iowa, and we were assigned to Strategic Air Command Headquarters in Omaha. The farm was a great place for horses. There was plenty of land for horses to roam, and my favorite mare, Gaizi, spent most of her life with about 20 of her closest friends, just being a horse and running around that farm.

We had several show horses, and when it was time, my wife tried her hand at breeding. That process is a science. You have to research blood-lines, and try to come up with a mommy-daddy combination that will result in a nice horse. Obviously, some are very good at this. In fact, friend John was an expert at judging the lines of a horse. He used his skills all the time, helping evaluate Arabian horses being raised at Rush Creek Land and Cattle, in Lisco, Nebraska. This was a small 160,000 acre cattle operation with a four square mile area used to raise horses for the cowboys who worked on the ranch. Rush Creek had an Arabian breeding program that was known internationally. John and I spent a bunch of time hanging out with those folks every year when they brought in the new crop of baby horses to see what they had.

My wife decided to breed one of our Arabian mares, a process that takes about eleven months to complete. As it got close to time for the baby to be born, we decided to move the mare from the big pasture where all the other horses were living, to a smaller pasture, separated from the big one by the Pony Creek that gave the farm its name. That way, she could have her baby without worry about what the other horses might do.

The Pasture

The pasture was a fairly large triangular field sitting on a hill. The field was fenced on two sides, and the Pony Creek bounded the other side. The creek was not just a bubbling little thing. It occasionally ran hard when it rained. For most of the way through the farm, the creek was at the bottom of a ditch about 15 feet deep, with steeply sloping sides. There was plenty of grass on the sides of the banks. Generally, the horses stayed out of it because the sides were so steep. Getting down and back out was way too difficult.

The field itself was great for a horse. Since it was not used normally by the herd, the grass was tall and apparently tasty!. Our mare loved it, and seemed happy with this new place to hang out.

Getting Close

As had become our custom, as it got close to time for the baby to arrive, my wife and I would run over to the farm after work, to check on things before heading home. Even though this pasture was smaller than the main one, it was still fairly big! We wanted to see how the mare was doing. We discovered one problem.

The grass was tall enough that if she decided to take a horsy nap and lay down, we could not figure out where she was. That meant both of us would have to trudge through the grass trying to find her. Usually not a big deal, but annoying to do in military work dress!

For several visits, this was just time to visit with our way-fat mare. It was clearly getting close to time for the baby to arrive.

Missing Mare

One one of our visits, which must have been on a week end, since I do not remember being in uniform, we arrived in the late afternoon. We walked over to the field, and found no mare. We spent many minutes walking all over that field trying to find her, with no luck. My wife left to see if she could find John or Jayna, thinking they might have moved her for some reason, but eventually, she came back to report no friends and no sign of our mare.

It was starting to get dark, and we were starting to get worried. We checked the fence to see if there was a break that might have let her escape, again with no luck.

New Baby

Finally, as it was getting dark, I started walking the creek line. It was hard to see down in the ditch. The creek had been pretty full due to a recent rain, but it had lowered to a more normal level. After walking about ten minutes, I thought I heard something, and started looking closer.

Then I saw the mare, standing in the middle of the creek, with our new baby leaning on her side. The baby was not in the creek, but it was apparent the mare had been there for some time. She was exhausted, and barely able to stand.

I slid down the bank of the creek to get close to her, and found out her legs were buried in mud about three feet deep. She could barely move. I remember getting rid of my shoes before sliding down the hill, and somewhere in all this I lost my glasses, but I got to her side in short order.

I reached down into the mud to try to free her legs enough that she could try to move, but every time I got her free, and she tried to move, she just ended up in a new chunk of deep mud. We were getting nowhere. I think my plan was to lead her to a point on that creek where we at least could get her out of the water. I had no idea how we were going to get her out of the creek!

I started yelling for my wife, as she was still searching elsewhere. Eventually, she showed up at the top of the ditch, and got her first look at the situation. The ditch was way too steep for me to want her to join me, so we decided that she would run back to the farm and try to get help.

I stayed with the mare, trying to calm her, and keep the baby calm as well. So far, he (I was pretty sure it was a he) seemed to be taking this pretty well. I am sure he had no idea what was going on, but this new world of his was some adventurous place!

The mare was very tired, but she still seemed to want to try to free herself. I tried to help her, but once again, we just got stuck again. Even I was getting stuck, my legs were somewhere in two-three feet of mud. Eventually, the mare was so tired she collapsed further into the creek, barely even trying to stand. I helped hold her head up out of the water. I began to worry that we might lose her if the chilly waters of the creek got to her.

This was getting serious.

Rescue

After what seemed to me was hours waiting for help, I saw a light approaching. Behind that light was my wife and a volunteer fireman! Apparently, she could not find anyone to help and decided to call the fire department to see if they could help.

The answer she got was no, they normally did not handle things like this. But the chief at the station said he would put out a call to see if anyone was willing to rush out to help.

These guys are amazing, about 20 responded. That man holding the flashlight was the chief. Behind him was an army of volunteer helpers.

The chief took one look at the situation, and came up with a plan. He had his guys pull several fire-hoses from the truck (yes, they came in force, with their equipment). Once the hoses were at the side of the hill, he tied several around himself, and rappelled down the bank to the mess that was me, the mare, and the baby.

I remember seeing him cradle the baby in both arms, then head back up the hill as his army of men pulled him up.

Baby is safe!

My wife took charge of the baby, and it seemed he was pretty unscathed by all of this.

The chief and a couple of helpers slid back into the creek. I managed to pull free and back out of the way. They wrapped hoses around our mare's legs and belly, making a kind of harness. Then a ton of folks started slowly pulling. I remember helping to free her legs from the mud, and I remember seeing her finally come free and we all slid our way up the banks. I think I was hanging onto a hose as I scrambled up the bank. The mare was sliding on her side all the way to the top.

Dinner

The funniest thing I remember about that escape was seeing the mare reach the top of the bank, slide over top and stop with her face in a clump of grass.

Without even blinking, she reached over, took a bite, and lay there munching on dinner, still wrapped up in hoses. Boy was she a calm, trusting horse! Other horses would have been a nightmare to deal with after all this.

She even stayed calm after we started trying to get her to her feet. We did let her rest a bit, as the men worked to unwrap the hoses. Finally, we got her up, and reunited mom and baby. Both seemed immensely happy with this.

Wrapping up

In the battle the army waged to save our mare, my shoes were lost, trampled into that gooey mud. I never saw any sign of my glasses. When I inspected my feet the next day, I had lost the entire toenail on one of my big toes! Small price to pay.

The army left as we attempted to thank all of them. They had come out in the dead of night to help a horse in distress! Amazing thing to see! We did not feel we had done that well enough, so we sent over a big pizza party for the entire station a few days later.

We called the vet to check out both mom and her baby, and both were in pretty good shape, considering the adventure that had had. All in all, the best outcome we could have asked for.

Based on the events of that evening, we named our new horse "Star Dancer"!That seemed an appropriate name. It reminded us of the dance we all had under the stars on his birthday!

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tags: Horses, Stories