I just remembered they said he loved to munch buttercups at Fair Hill, so maybe someone is also *hand-picking* some of those and taking them to him.
Good thing I'm not there - I'd be sleeping in the stall with him, just to spoil him. I feel so sorry for him! *sigh*
I went in to commiserate with her, and somebody snapped a pic of me sitting holding her head in my lap, stroking her forelock and crooning, "Oh, poor mare! Oh, poor mare!" in a suspect tone.