I was walking Harv around the farm on Saturday in our eighty-degree weather, and he seemed to want to trot a bit (he was dragging me a little), and we trotted along a fenceline for about sixty meters. When we walked toward the barn, a lesson mom stopped and complimented Harv. "What sport are you working on with him?" she asked.
I told her Harv's sport is now elite grazing, and that he trains every day.
My boy...
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