Trixie skipped into the dark solitude of the Wheeler stables. She loved the silence and the smell of the leather and the horses. She was surprised to find that there was nobody in the stable.

"Where's Regan?" she asked aloud. A quick count revealed that all the horses were present.

Trixie wandered into Regan's tidy office at the back of the stables. As usual, nothing was out of place on his desk. Trixie was just about to leave the office when she noticed an old box sitting on Regan's chair. Curiosity immediately took over as Trixie gingerly opened the lid of the box. She looked inside and found a bundle wrapped carefully in old tissue paper. Trixie unwrapped the bundle and found herself holding an old pair of leather boxing gloves. She turned them over and examined them. She saw the letters W.R. written on the inside of each glove. The gloves were somewhat small but they still easily slid onto Trixie's hands. As Trixie stood looking at the gloves that she was now wearing, she couldn't resist bouncing around, jabbing at an imaginary partner. She bobbed around and swung both fists in rapid motions. A clearing of a male throat behind Trixie brought the boxing match to a halt. As Trixie turned around, she found herself staring into the very amused eyes of Regan. Embarrassed at being caught in her fantasy, all Trixie could do was to jab and cross at the red hair that made such a good target.