Rebirth -- Post 3

My eyes are fixed on Phantom as she lay on her side in the green hay and golden straw mix; her nostrils, open wide, reminding me of dark caverns as she breathes heavily in and out. She is an American Saddlebred, 5-gaited horse, standing 17-hands tall, her coat the color of midnight. Even while laying still on her side on the verge of giving birth, her muscular, dark body is impressive.

My mom is kneeling beside her. She is calm, smiling while stroking the mare’s black, swollen belly. I watch her as she bends further down, whispering into her ear, “Almost there Phantom, almost.”

Witnessing the calming effect my mom’s soft voice has on Phantom my damp eyes watch the play of life moving from scent to scene. My heart is pounding fast and hard, while memories of Phantom and I in the show ring together, reel through my mind like a silent film.

“How much longer, mom?”

“It won’t be long now Jodie.” Phantom’s breathing becomes heavier.

“She’s going to be all right, isn’t she?” Jill asks.

“Yes, honey, of course. She’s a strong mare and she’s young.”

My mom’s reply is full of strong conviction from many years of delivery newborn animals. Slowly Jill and my worries begin to fade, like the sunset descending behind the mountains.