Okay, it’s blurry and you can’t really tell what it’s supposed to be. You can see her head behind the stall door, the tubes running from her catheter to the IV bags, and the grazing muzzle. Poor kid.
Writing Rider. Writer of tech stuff, blogs, fiction, poetry, nonfiction, and whimsical silliness. Owned by two mares and two tortieshell cats. She/her.