Olivia's Little Burrito

I'm not the earlier riser my other half is. Years of working the midnight shift on patrol ruined that long ago. This morning, I clung to the pillow for those last precious sherds of sleep as Russ did the feeding. I heard the sound of his footsteps on the gravel, much faster than usual - and in he comes, his iPad in hand, waving it in my face. "What the **** is THIS?" he cried out. And there - despite his tone of mock indignation - were some lovingly-taken photos of the morning's surprise.

I'd watched Olivia's bags in the almost-two-weeks since she arrived, and had seen no noticeable change; I wasn't truly certain she was already bagging up for the new baby or if she'd been recently separated from a former foal. Maybe her bags were waning, I thought. Nor was she particularly large of belly. Nothing made me think that she was due to foal any time soon.

And yet, there she was: fuzzy-headed long-eared innocence in all its glory. A perfectly formed, perfectly healthy burro baby, a ... a burrito. And she was already dry, walking, and ready to greet the world around her. She greeted Russ (a good tactical move, destined to win his heart quickly) and let him scratch her neck. She greeted Ethan the McNab pup quite confidently. She touched weanling Julie's nose through the rails. She let me imprint on her. She was nursing, Olivia had already passed an intact placenta, and all was wonderfully well.

Russ deemed her name to be "Onate," (Oh-NOT-ay, as we pronounced it - without the tilde, which would certainly be appropriate - but heck, it's our baby and our name!) She has floofy legs, wonderfully curly and soft ear tips, and a forehead that one Twitter pal described as a "Hasselhoff perm." I couldn't describe it better myself. She is beautiful.

Olivia, despite her newness to the human world, has been amazing. She let me treat the umbilical cord and handle her baby, always keeping a watchful eye, and she let Ethan make friends. Yet I pushed the envelope just a little too far after we'd had them turned out and tried to usher them back into the stall. I decided I'd just pick up the little girl and carry her, and Mama would follow. Well, I picked up the little girl no problem, but Mama Olivia had run out of patience with me and attacked, butting me with her face. She was surprisingly gentle, but she meant business. I set Onate down, patted Olivia and made friends with her again, and promised her I wouldn't take her by surprise again.   Tomorrow I'll work with her again, and tomorrow I will respect her maternal instincts properly.

So beautiful, ridiculously adorable Onate has joined our family. Ethan is fascinated with her and runs down to the barn to check on her before coming in on each outing. He's gentle and kind with her, as McNabs are. 

Olivia, you've done a fine job!

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