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Description
Horses Reference: Rebel Etiquette - 2 years old
Handler: Fiona Frost - HARPG Ref (Fi is 17 at the time of this event)
Show: 2020 Cabarita Classic
Class Entering: Agility
Futurity Ticket: #13 www.deviantart.com/comments/1/…

Yeti is a feral toddler when it comes to play time.
He does not yet know that show time is not meant to be playtime.

After the excitement of the beach event, while still bright eyed and keyed up, Yeti was thankfully a lot calmer, giving Fiona a little breathing space to focus her own thoughts. Mostly she was berating herself for not thinking to bring a spare pair of footwear as she squelched up the path, spare socks she had, but dry socks would do no good in wet boots.
There was plenty of time between classes to brush off the worst of the sand and salt from Yeti’s coat, and Fiona enjoyed having some quiet bonding time with her youngster amid the hustle and bustle of the show ground. Yeti seemed to be in agreement, happily tucking into his haynet without much of a care for anything going on around him, other than the occasional ear flick or snort ‘n’ stare. Still, this was a routine he was used to and there was some comfort in that.
She had very few worries about the class to come, Yeti was a playful pest at home, constantly into everything, and as such, very few things phased him. He’d been introduced to as many weird and wacky things that the stable lads and lasses could come up with, and enjoyed every single one of them.
There were only two concerns niggling at the back of Fiona’s head as she heard her number called, one that Yeti would be tired and just flat out refuse to participate, the other was ball related…
In the year and a half Fiona had owned him, Yeti had managed to destroy three horse balls. Not just deflated, but completely and utterly destroyed. He rolled on them, chased them, kicked, bucked, farted and snorted at them; picking them up in his teeth and hurling them at other horses was another favourite game.
As soon as they entered the arena, Yeti spotted his favourite object. Fiona sighed, internally face palming as she resigned herself to the inevitable snorting and flailing that was sure to follow. Provided she could keep his attention long enough through the other obstacles.
340ish words

no refs used

Description
Horses Reference: Rebel Etiquette - 2 years old
Handler: Fiona Frost - HARPG Ref (Fi is 17 at the time of this event)
Show: 2020 Cabarita Classic
Class Entering: Agility
Futurity Ticket: #13 www.deviantart.com/comments/1/…

Yeti is a feral toddler when it comes to play time.
He does not yet know that show time is not meant to be playtime.

After the excitement of the beach event, while still bright eyed and keyed up, Yeti was thankfully a lot calmer, giving Fiona a little breathing space to focus her own thoughts. Mostly she was berating herself for not thinking to bring a spare pair of footwear as she squelched up the path, spare socks she had, but dry socks would do no good in wet boots.
There was plenty of time between classes to brush off the worst of the sand and salt from Yeti’s coat, and Fiona enjoyed having some quiet bonding time with her youngster amid the hustle and bustle of the show ground. Yeti seemed to be in agreement, happily tucking into his haynet without much of a care for anything going on around him, other than the occasional ear flick or snort ‘n’ stare. Still, this was a routine he was used to and there was some comfort in that.
She had very few worries about the class to come, Yeti was a playful pest at home, constantly into everything, and as such, very few things phased him. He’d been introduced to as many weird and wacky things that the stable lads and lasses could come up with, and enjoyed every single one of them.
There were only two concerns niggling at the back of Fiona’s head as she heard her number called, one that Yeti would be tired and just flat out refuse to participate, the other was ball related…
In the year and a half Fiona had owned him, Yeti had managed to destroy three horse balls. Not just deflated, but completely and utterly destroyed. He rolled on them, chased them, kicked, bucked, farted and snorted at them; picking them up in his teeth and hurling them at other horses was another favourite game.
As soon as they entered the arena, Yeti spotted his favourite object. Fiona sighed, internally face palming as she resigned herself to the inevitable snorting and flailing that was sure to follow. Provided she could keep his attention long enough through the other obstacles.
340ish words

no refs used