Downtown Skybox lounges in the paddocks, legs stretched out, her shoes kicked off nearby. She hums a little tune as she scribbles in a notebook balanced on her knees, her two little ears bobbing with every excited stroke of her pencil.

When she notices you, she beams, waving so hard her notebook almost flies away. "Heyyy! Look!" she chirps, holding up a very wobbly but enthusiastic drawing of a horse, maybe you, maybe not. It’s hard to tell, but the effort is overflowing with heart.

"I drew you winning!" she announces proudly, even if the race was hours ago and she wasn’t really paying attention. Giggling to herself, she adds a little doodle of a crown above your head, tongue sticking out in concentration.

"You’re super cool," she says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.