what's that racket

Quick snippet of Veiled Reference galloping this morning at Fair Hill. She's on the outside with Tim, working in company with an unraced filly that goes by Rosa, I think, with Robbie up. They went a mile at a solid clip, certainly much faster than when I saw her the few weeks back. She was nicely into the bit; looked like she'd be happy to do more. Filly has definitely tightened up over the last month. While still has the bit of a belly, it should peel away pretty quickly once she gets started with weekly speed work, which Tim will kick off this weekend.

My favorite part of the morning was before she went out. They had her all tacked up and ready to go, so she knew what was up. After we left her stall to hang outside ourselves for a few minutes, she started banging at her yellow can in the stall, maybe trying to redirect some energy before getting out to work. It was pretty loud, certainly consistent, kind of like when a car alarm goes off on the block and you just keep waiting for it to stop. Anyway, after she'd been at it for a good bit, I told my dad that I'd head in to distract her, or something, and just as I get there, this other Irish exercise rider (from another outfit, not Robbie) is storming around the corner to take the can out of her stall. "You stop that, horse," said in a manner that suggested he might be saying "horse," but thinking of something perhaps a bit more colorful. I know from experience that you have to be sensitive to the Irish in the mornings from time to time, so I gave her a tsk, tsk for camaraderie's sake and he went on his way. She kind of looked at me then, as if to say, "what's his problem?" and then stood with her nose behind the can to indicate that she'd start back at it as she pleased. Always the lady...