Feeding them morning and night for three days, I got to know Zoe (foreground), Prince (white Arabian and herd leader), Della (well-mannered bay), Joe (Black newcomer who’s already moving up in the pecking order), and Edwina (who paws the fence whenever she’s impatient). It takes awhile to separate Winnie (she’s still Edwina to me) in a pen where she gets oats, then take the same 2/3 can of oats plus 1/5 bale of hay inside Zoe’s pen. She’s running around like a crazy mare, spooks at the carrot stick I carry to appear bigger and keep her from charging over me. She kicked at me one day anyway! My brother told me before he left, “If she gets sick, don’t call the vet. Shoot her!” Fat chance of that!
I divide the 4/5 of the remaining bale, load it in a wheelbarrow, push it through snow (that turned to brown slush over the next few hours), and hoist it over the high fence at four strategic spots that are not within kicking distance “in case they get to bickering”. Winnie paws to get out to the hay, then changes her mind about going beyond the grass in her pen, Joe tries to come in, and I finally win the battle of wits. Pat Parelli’s carrot stick helps; I only apply a little pressure or show it to them and they move where I want. Zoe drinks her water down daily, but temperatures stop freezing, so I carry her a bucket each feeding. Then it’s time to lock the gates and cover the hay in case bad weather or deer move in to spoil the bails. I needed a bath after each feeding foray, sometimes finding hay beneath three layers of clothing! It’s good exercise, and as long as I got it done in daylight, interesting and enjoyable. Thanksgiving, after a late dinner and two Scrabble 
games, friend Elsie and I wrestled bales and sank into muck with my headlamp’s help. I returned to her kitchen today for a reward: dipping mint/walnut/vanilla nougat in chocolate. We ate our share of samples. Happy holiday time, whether you eat hay, oats, or candy!
