Wilma here. Of course I'm not actually typing this; my partner is. I trust her enough to put my words down accurately, though, even when they're about HER.
The other day my partner came out to barn all excited because she fit into something called "genes". She wanted me to pose with her and these "genes". I was much more interested in what was in the wheelbarrow, since there are always pieces of hay and other tasty things to eat, but she put her sweatshirt around my neck and MADE ME STAND THERE. That was okay for a minute, but hey! Let's get back to the important stuff! Food.
Here I am being patient (mostly) and my partner grinning like a fool about this whole "genes" thing.
I still don't know what the big deal was.
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