Andy woke up to the sun, which was just rising above the mountains, spreading light over her little town. She was anxious to see what would happen today. Andy brushed her wavy hair, threw on some clean clothes, and her favorite boots. She raced down the stairs, swinging off the last post into the kitchen. Her mom was making blueberry pancakes, something she did only on special occasions. Today was indeed a special occasion. Their family horse, Clover, was having a foal. She grabbed a plate of buttery pancakes, shoving her mouth full, so she could get to the barn. When she got there, her father was with the vet, sitting with Clover. She was so anxious, waiting for the foal to come. She paced around the barn, thinking of possible names. If he- Andy liked to think it would be a boy- was just like Clover, then he could be named Shamrock. Or maybe if he was a palomino, like his father, he could be named Golden Ticket. That was the name of her uncle's racehorse. Her mind was racing with ideas when she heard a little cry. She walked around the corner to see a little filly, trying to stand. She seemed very feisty and independent, not wanting Clover to give her a nudge to help her up. Soon, our of sheer determination, she stood up, wobbling, but still standing. She gave a triumphant whinny, as she tossed her little head. Andy smiled, this little filly would be a mischievous one.