April 30, 2013. Back and forth, argue, talk, rationalize, emotionalize: Not another baby. Expense. Responsibility. Commitment. We won't know how. We're too old to take this on. Sixty one, thirty years: Ninety one. Shit. How many horses will I be climbing on? Tony with the brain disease? Well, maybe a blind quarter horse stallion, something small and quiet, something from Euphrata. But I hear there is a semen auction. I'm not going to win on just one bid. And then I do but we could cut our losses at a thousand dollars. Finally I say to you, Tony, what it means to me is not surrendering yet. There are ultra sounds. There is a stifle injury. There are more ultra sounds. We fill out the breeding contract. We gather the Jockey Club Registration, the photo ID. Tony's Mom at ninety seven is dying and he flies to the other side of the country. I stay to do everything else. All these animals, someone has to stay behind. "Ask your Mom if she'd be riding at ninety one?" But she never regains consciousness. "I go down and talk to her everyday. They tell me she can still hear." It is her son talking to her. Here, in Ellensburg, there are more ultra sounds. Our vet's in a cast but the new vet is taller and has a better angle at the reproductive fruits of my mare. The new vet is awkward with words and he always smiles. When I make the call to Canada to order the semen, I have to sit down. I am shaky. It seems like everything is moving too fast and I don't have a chance to change my mind. The man on the phone, says no problem, they're collecting right now, Fed Ex. Semen ships from British Columbia to Tennessee and back to Washington State by eight in the morning. We are waiting at the vet's when the truck arrives. I eye the box. I sidle up to the box. Then they say to bring you through and you are calm. The tall vet reaches his entire arm inside yo and says "the follicle is huge and soft." He is excited that the semen comes in a syringe because it lessens the chance of contamination. He twists a two foot long tube to the tip of the syringe because the semen has to be injected on the other side of your cervix, not like humans. "The stallion ejaculates right against the mare's cervix," the vet says and adds, "Now, cows have a tortuous cervix. I don't do cows." And then it's done and you stand on your toes and squirt pee. He says, "You're not really peeing on the floor are you? Oh well, go on sweetheart." My tall, white mare and I go out to the clear day where there is wind banging the signs and utility men are up a pole yelling to each other. A trailer load of cattle pulls into the parking lot. The french braid I tried is all frayed gray hair. You are serene and load right into the trailer. We are on the road now.
MAY FIRST - door open, babies come out. The sun is bright and the wind died down so even with my ears searching, there is nothing but an vacant space. the only t hing a wind storm lacks is visuals. Karl first. He is knobby. He spine is coiled like a hemp string a long his back. He is pure white with a borwn head and what will become a black stripe down to his neck. He has a darker brown dot on his right hip. What is he three days old? Sure footed, alert and aware. Josey tumbles, her left eye is closed. Wind blew something in it. Her head is tan like her older sister Carmen. Josey gets lost. I keep my eye on them. Cindy brings them to Beau's stall even though goats do not go in chestnut's stall. Karl weaves around Beau's legs, his white socks. Karl comes part way up Beau's shin and Beau's hoof is bigger than Karl's head. "Careful Beau." Beau puts his nostril on Karl, sucks up the smell. Beau walks out. I race to let him out the gate. The tiny family settles against the barn in the sun. When I let the other goats out, I come back and sit with the babies. One by one, the herd comes to greet the babies. Tommy is startled and hops. He is unsure. I watch Rosa who has lost her four babies last week. "Gassous, but not too bad," the vet said as he untangled and disengaaged the four twisted bodies. Rosa bows her brown nose and puts it on Karl. I watch her eyes. The sun seems to shift across the light brown. I believe I see warmth. Then Rosa lifts her head and marches off to commandeer.
April 30, 2013. Back and forth, argue, talk, rationalize, emotionalize: Not another baby. Expense. Responsibility. Commitment. We won't know how. We're too old to take this on. Sixty one, thirty years: Ninety one. Shit. How many horses will I be climbing on? Tony with the brain disease? Well, maybe a blind quarter horse stallion, something small and quiet, something from Euphrata. But I hear there is a semen auction. I'm not going to win on just one bid. And then I do but we could cut our losses at a thousand dollars. Finally I say to you, Tony, what it means to me is not surrendering yet. There are ultra sounds. There is a stifle injury. There are more ultra sounds. We fill out the breeding contract. We gather the Jockey Club Registration, the photo ID. Tony's Mom at ninety seven is dying and he flies to the other side of the country. I stay to do everything else. All these animals, someone has to stay behind. "Ask your Mom if she'd be riding at ninety one?" But she never regains consciousness. "I go down and talk to her everyday. They tell me she can still hear." It is her son talking to her. Here, in Ellensburg, there are more ultra sounds. Our vet's in a cast but the new vet is taller and has a better angle at the reproductive fruits of my mare. The new vet is awkward with words and he always smiles. When I make the call to Canada to order the semen, I have to sit down. I am shaky. It seems like everything is moving too fast and I don't have a chance to change my mind. The man on the phone, says no problem, they're collecting right now, Fed Ex. Semen ships from British Columbia to Tennessee and back to Washington State by eight in the morning. We are waiting at the vet's when the truck arrives. I eye the box. I sidle up to the box. Then they say to bring you through and you are calm. The tall vet reaches his entire arm inside yo and says "the follicle is huge and soft." He is excited that the semen comes in a syringe because it lessens the chance of contamination. He twists a two foot long tube to the tip of the syringe because the semen has to be injected on the other side of your cervix, not like humans. "The stallion ejaculates right against the mare's cervix," the vet says and adds, "Now, cows have a tortuous cervix. I don't do cows." And then it's done and you stand on your toes and squirt pee. He says, "You're not really peeing on the floor are you? Oh well, go on sweetheart." My tall, white mare and I go out to the clear day where there is wind banging the signs and utility men are up a pole yelling to each other. A trailer load of cattle pulls into the parking lot. The french braid I tried is all frayed gray hair. You are serene and load right into the trailer. We are on the road now.
MAY FIRST - door open, babies come out. The sun is bright and the wind died down so even with my ears searching, there is nothing but an vacant space. the only t hing a wind storm lacks is visuals. Karl first. He is knobby. He spine is coiled like a hemp string a long his back. He is pure white with a borwn head and what will become a black stripe down to his neck. He has a darker brown dot on his right hip. What is he three days old? Sure footed, alert and aware. Josey tumbles, her left eye is closed. Wind blew something in it. Her head is tan like her older sister Carmen. Josey gets lost. I keep my eye on them. Cindy brings them to Beau's stall even though goats do not go in chestnut's stall. Karl weaves around Beau's legs, his white socks. Karl comes part way up Beau's shin and Beau's hoof is bigger than Karl's head. "Careful Beau." Beau puts his nostril on Karl, sucks up the smell. Beau walks out. I race to let him out the gate. The tiny family settles against the barn in the sun. When I let the other goats out, I come back and sit with the babies. One by one, the herd comes to greet the babies. Tommy is startled and hops. He is unsure. I watch Rosa who has lost her four babies last week. "Gassous, but not too bad," the vet said as he untangled and disengaaged the four twisted bodies. Rosa bows her brown nose and puts it on Karl. I watch her eyes. The sun seems to shift across the light brown. I believe I see warmth. Then Rosa lifts her head and marches off to commandeer.
No comments:
Post a Comment