5:45 a.m.: Why do I hear cars pulling in? The braider was here all night! I just want some peace and quiet!

6:00 a.m.: Ah, the sweet, sweet sound of grain being poured and hay being thrown.

6:05 a.m.: Breakfast has been devoured.  Boy, that was exhausting.

6:45 a.m.: I know I just got a bath last night, but this pile of poop would make a really good pillow…

8:30 a.m.: My person has arrived.  I would recognize her cackling laugh anywhere.  She always embarrasses me in front of that pretty mare that lives down the aisle!

8:32 a.m.: My person has expressed dismay at the poop on my face.  And on my stomach.  And on my butt.  I regret nothing.

9:15 a.m.: My person led me to the wash rack and is now drenching me with the hose.  Little does she know that I plan on getting her just as wet!

9:45 a.m.: My person scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed.  I have not yet received a treat.  Perhaps I will whip her with my wet tail…

9:46 a.m.: Operation “Whip my Hair Back and Forth” is complete.  My person was not amused.

10:15 a.m.: I have been placed in front of a fan to dry, but there’s nothing fun to do in these crossties.  Maybe I should knock some things over!

12:00 p.m.: I’m starting to get suspicious.  I’ve been in my stall for almost two hours and my person hasn’t bothered me.  What does she have up her sleeve?

12:30 p.m.: I heard the screech of golf cart tires followed by my person’s boots slapping the ground at a rapid pace.  It seems that we are what the humans refer to as “late”.

12:32 p.m.: There is a small army swarming around me and putting various pieces of leather on my body.  I envy my forefathers who used to roam the grassy plains, untouched by humans.

12:40 p.m.: My person is wearing that funny coat and those sharp things on her boots.  We have arrived at what the humans refer to as a “show ring”.  I see others of my kind jumping the scariest-looking jumps I’ve ever seen.

12:47 p.m.: My person is frazzled, but the yelling lady standing in the middle of the ring keeps telling her to kick me.  I don’t understand why I need to go faster!

12:50 p.m.: My person’s heart is beating so fast.  I think she forgot to drink that clear stuff that comes in a big glass bottle.

1:00 p.m.: I jumped the jumps like the good boy I am.  The yelling lady said I looked “very cute”.

1:30 p.m.: That pretty mare nickered at me as I walked past and my person gave me a handful of cookies.  What a good day.

Photo by Erin Gilmore for Noelle Floyd/style.