Baby Ace (seems like the right abbreviation for A Sensational Night Out) is on his feet constantly, eating, pooping and scampering. No one caught him napping until my sister came to visit at 4pm. He will doze on his feet and scope out a nap spot but he's afraid to drop. It's a long way down! He is very friendly and active. When he sees a person at the door, he trots over to say hello then resumes his routine...eat...poop...scamper. When I first looked in this afternoon I was afraid he had faded to chestnut, but the ankles are still black. In certain light he bays right up.
I went in and brushed Copy a little and gave her some carrots. She is mostly concerned with her baby and is gazing towards the window with a happy, far away look. Eating is a secondary concern. You can do whatever you want as long as you don't get between her and her beloved. She keeps a close eye on him and only takes short breaks to eat which prompts him to come over and investigate the hay pile too. He must be getting enough milk though. It's going through in a satisfactory volume. Is there anything stickier to get off the side of your boot than baby poo? I had forgotten about how it feels to step out into the aisle with a slippery, straw covered chunk of slime-goo suctioned to my instep.
Still, foals at his age are so fascinating. He manages to fill his day with the wonders contained in a 12x12 box stall. When ever he notices a new being peaking over the edge of his horizon, he must come and make friends with it with his tickly little wiskers. Then on to the next adventure! His eye sight is still pretty dim. Those walls keep sneaking up on him. Mom is easy to find with her warm bulk stationed in the middle of the stall. Last night I was amazed at her seeming sixth sense as to where those spindly legs were hidden in the straw. Once he crashed in the middle of the stall, and she hurried over stopping just short of one long fragile leg. She withdrew a few inches as if she knew just where it was way down there in the straw.