by Ken Weingartner, Harness Racing Communications

Ken Weingartner, media relations manager for Harness Racing Communications, has embarked on a new adventure. Weingartner will foal watch at Perretti Farms in central New Jersey. He will provide details of his weekly adventures in an occasional column, Foal Patrol.

Freehold, NJ — The waiting is the hardest part.

Sitting at Perretti Farms in New Jersey, I can’t get Tom Petty’s song out of my head. I keep thinking back to an episode of the old “It’s Garry Shandling’s Show,” where Petty shows up in Shandling’s living room to sing “The Waiting” to a couple expecting a baby.

I’m waiting for a baby, too.

My second attempt at foal watching is going only somewhat better than my first; at least this time we believe there are several mares close to foaling. I notice some are “waxing,” which is an indication that activity could begin soon.

I remember Lindsey Taylor, the farm’s broodmare and healthcare manager, telling me last week, “You can tell when their udder gets big and they get what’s called ‘wax’ on it. It’s like a little drip of candle wax or honey. When they’re waxed they usually foal within 24 hours.”

She added this caveat, though: “They’re tricky. You never really know what’s going on with them.”

I learn that soon enough. After flipping through an issue of “National Geographic” (it seemed appropriate) and watching a few episodes of “Arrested Development” on DVD, I stroll through the stable for about the sixth time, looking at the mares. Pepe, who is foal watching for the farm, pops in and out of a room at the end of the stable to do the same.

“No babies,” he says. I nod. With all seemingly quiet, I decide to walk over to another stable where the farm’s newborns are kept with their mothers. Upon my return to the foaling stable, I discover Pepe has left for the evening and Florentino has taken over. As he walks along the row of stalls, he notices me.

“New baby,” he says, pointing to a stall.

Oh, no. I wasn’t gone that long; I couldn’t have missed my first chance?

Yes, I did. In the stall pointed to by Florentino is a newborn Windsong’s Legacy foal with its mother, Palcb. As cute as the foal is, I can’t help but be aggravated with myself for missing the birth. Lindsey warned me foaling happens in “a snap” and I learned she wasn’t speaking figuratively.

“They have sort of a cataclysmic labor; it’s usually over in 15 to 20 minutes, start to finish,” Lindsey said. “They push so hard, if something is wrong and you don’t get in there and fix it you can lose both the mare and foal in an hour. They’re meant to spit them right out. That’s why we have someone foal watching. Nine times out of 10 they can do it themselves, but if they need help it’s pretty important somebody is there.”

Special Addition relaxes with her Real Desire filly.

I decide to return the next night, figuring there are still a couple mares that look ready to foal. I’m right. As soon as I walk into the stable I hear rustling in one of the stalls. I walk down the row until I see Pepe in a stall with a mare named, somewhat fittingly, Special Addition. The foal is partially emerged; I have a feeling most of the tough work is done, but this is as close as I’ve been so far. It is quiet in the stall and Pepe is watching. I’m as interested to see what he does as watch the completion of the birth.

The foal emerges in a sac, front feet first, followed by the head and shoulders. The sac will either rupture naturally or can be punctured by whoever is assisting. After a period of rest, Pepe helps pull the foal’s rear legs out. He dries the newborn foal, in this case a Real Desire filly, with a towel and applies iodine to the area around where the umbilical cord was attached.

A newborn foal is around 100 pounds and it’s amazing to think something so large, especially with those spindly legs, could come out of the mare. Last week, Lindsey told me, laughing, “When you look at them after they’re born, try to imagine folding that up and putting it back in there.” I can’t.

I’m impressed with the way Pepe smartly moves around the stall, tending to the foal. While I’m amazed by the goings on, he routinely goes about his business, like he was doing nothing more than arranging furniture. A friend suggested I use all my senses during the foaling experience, but I’m still a little uncertain about hands-on aspects of the duties. I don’t think of myself as overly squeamish; on the other hand, it’s tough to think about sticking one’s hands into places they don’t usually go. Maybe next week.

Ken Weingartner photos

Florentino helps the newborn foal to her feet.

Soon after the foal’s arrival, Pepe departs and Florentino takes over. The mare spends time cleaning the foal and before long the filly is trying to stand, with no success. There are a few times I think she’s going to make it, only to wobble over like a person who’s had too much to drink.

A little more than an hour after the filly’s birth, Florentino helps her to her feet and later feeds her some milk from a bottle.

Then, the filly lies down and rests.

It seems like a good idea. Even just a partial delivery and I’m exhausted.