“This hay is super yummy, Mommy! I think I’ll eat from this rack, and everybody else can eat from the other one.”
Notice my classy piece of string holding up the hay racks. I don’t know what the little hooligans do at night, but almost every morning for over a week at least one of the hay feeders would be knocked off the wall. They broke or lost two of the hooks, so the string will have to do until I can get more hooks.
“Hey, how ’bout slipping me some extra crunchies while the girls aren’t looking?”
Why does every animal I bring home instantly become expert at the cute moochie face?
“My hay. Mine. All this hay is only mine.”
Duke’s feeder is hung on the outside of the fence, so I can feed him from outside. He has his own feeder all to himself and doesn’t have to share. Which is good, because he wouldn’t share anyway.
Watcher is exceptionally gifted, and can pull off a cute moochie face and an I-don’t-wan’t-to-share face at the same time.