Foal-sitting: Exhausting, exhilarating

On overnight shifts when her ailing equine charges seem restless, Anita Manning talks to them softly. Sometimes, she sings.

"One night, I went through a whole round of '60s songs like 'Where Have All the Flowers Gone' because I had a restless foal and he seemed to like the sound of my singing. I probably was imagining it."

Manning is a volunteer foal-sitter in the neonatal intensive care unit at the University of Pennsylvania School of Veterinary Medicine's New Bolton Center in Kennett Square. During foal season - roughly between February and June - the center recruits about 100 volunteers to assist them in the round-the-clock monitoring that the very sick fillies and colts admitted there require.

"They have lots of problems human neonates have," said Jon Palmer, chief veterinarian in the NICU and director of perinatal/neonatal programs. These include neonate encephalopathy, a central-nervous syndrome disorder with seizures, and premature births resulting in incomplete development. Between 1990 and 2014, he said, the hospital treated 3,000 neonates. About 84 percent of them survived, becoming healthy enough to happily run around fields and "be a horse," he said.

As cute as being a foal-sitter sounds, this is not glamorous work. For eight-hour stretches that can seem even longer, the 68-year-old retiree sits on the ground amid the hay just inches from her newborn patient. It's dirty work: One of the sitters' primary jobs is urine and feces collection - essentially catching it as it comes out - because keeping the foals dry and clean is crucial.

The sitters also clean dusty stalls and do laundry. They monitor the machines connected to the foals, learning quickly when a vet is needed. It can be physically taxing, as sitters assist in lifting and shifting the 100-pound-plus foals with sometimes flailing feet, and aid staff members when the animals need to be restrained.

But Manning said the work was some of the most satisfying she had ever undertaken - especially when you're helping such innocent creatures that gaze at their caretakers with big eyes fringed with long lashes, she said.

"It's very moving, very profound," she said from her spot on the stall floor, legs sidesaddle, eyes focused on her charge. "Sometimes I think, 'This is the most awesome thing. I am so lucky I get to do this.' "

Her partner, Nancy Huston, is equally absorbed in the job.

"I've always loved horses, but I've never had a horse or been up close to a horse," said Huston, 65. "Then I saw them, and, oh, it's almost like in that scene from Jurassic Park, when Sam Neill first sees the dinosaur up close. I can't believe how beautiful they are."

Some sitters are rookies, such as Manning and Huston, retirees who live in Wilmington. But Chetty Ferry, 62, has volunteered here every year since 1999. Ferry grew up among horses in Devon - two of her uncles were jockeys - but taking on a caregiving role has changed her, she said.

Her experience in the barn helped her aid an ailing aunt. And in 2010, Ferry moved her mother, gravely ill with cancer, into her home for her final five months.

"Anything a foal-sitter does at New Bolton, you have to write it down. So I knew when I was taking care of my mother, I knew I had to write down everything I did. The two were transferable," Ferry said. "I've told my sister a few times, 'I'm not comparing mom to a horse.' But my nursing at New Bolton made me able to do it. I knew what had to be done."

Caring for her mother in her final days and donating this time to the veterinary hospital, Ferry said, "were both so far the best things I've done in my life."

New Bolton begins recruiting foal-sitters months before the work actually begins. During a volunteer orientation in January, Palmer described the work and issued the warnings.

"They're going to put you in positions you didn't know your body could go in," he said, "and your significant other may find black-and-blue marks on you that you have no idea where they came from."

It also pushes some people outside their comfort zones. Not many have milked a mare before their volunteer shifts, he said, or even knew they could.

"You might discover a skill you never knew you had," he said. "It's good for cocktail parties."

But one of the most challenging aspects of a sitter's job is the no-touching rule. It's OK to help shift or restrain a foal, but no hugging, no comforting hands on an outstretched leg: Too much human contact with the foals does them harm in the long run, Palmer said.

It makes them think they're human, a problem when they grow to more than 1,000 pounds and want to throw their weight around. Sometimes, the center puts up signs on the stalls with messages such as, "Don't bother me. I'm trying to learn to be a horse."

It's a rule that can be difficult for even the most experienced volunteer. Ferry admitted she liked kissing foals on their noses. "You have to control yourself," she said. "You really do, because they're just so cute, but you're creating monsters."

Mistakes are made.

"Did Nancy tell you she got busted?" Manning said, lowering her voice as she shared the time her partner touched a foal.

"It was just for a second," Huston admitted, "and boom! Dr. Palmer was there."

Foal-sitters often have to deal with nervous mares, as well. Their instinct, Palmer said, is to stand guard over the foal, especially when it is too sick to stand. A low wall separates mother and foal to ensure the tubes and wires aren't jostled and to keep the foal safe from the unexpected movements of a mare that can easily weigh more than 750 pounds. Some of the devoted mothers have been known to stand over their foals for hours on end.

"Sometimes, they fall asleep on their feet and fall down," he said. "It's just being exhausted."

During a recent shift, a Thoroughbred mare greeted volunteer Allison DuPont, 19, with a loud neigh.

"Now she's kind of eyeing me," said DuPont, a Villanova University freshman. "I've heard from the other foal-sitters that the moms sometimes drop hay on your head."

DuPont, a biology major with a strong interest in animal behavior, thought volunteering as a foal-sitter would be another way to expand her knowledge and build her resumé. She's found, however, that it's much more than that.

"Even on my first shift, I felt I was learning a life lesson," she said. "It was, 'Stay on your toes.' Not just with becoming a vet student or a doctor, but with everything in life."

DuPont said it could be hard to go to class, then drive 90 minutes to Kennett Square and work an eight-hour foal-sitter shift, especially an overnight one.

"But when you look back, it's worth it," she said. "I feel great when I come here and great when I leave here."