She lifted her hooves one at a time, checking to make sure that there wasn’t anything stuck in her shoes. It would have been nice to polish them—the bronze was tarnished, and the streaks of verdigris hardly matched her coat. Trixie sighed. She could hardly go through all the cabinets in the bathroom for a polishing compound, and she hadn’t seen any out in the open. She would just have to suffer with stained shoes.