This was the sight that greeted me yesterday morning upon trudging out to feed the "darling" donkeys.
Let me back up a minute and explain.
I had mentioned to carpenter husband Rick a couple of days ago that the door to the hay aisle was getting hard, very hard, to shut. And latching it was darn near impossible. He explained about structural shifts with the cold temps and detailed what he'd do in the spring to help fix it. In the meantime we agreed four precious donkeys would not be able to pry the door open, even if unlatched, since you literally had to kick the bottom of the door to close it. Mistake #1.
Well, the damn thing must've shifted again, because in they got.
Sight number two.
Of course, being an even-tempered individual, I calmly cleaned up the mess and continued on.
Nope, not the way things played out. No indeedy.
After I surveyed the damage, I yelled. And yelled a little more. Of course they were still munching as I tried to rescue the hay that was left. And so I yelled some more.
At one point I swatted Luigi with the back of the red plastic pitchfork pictured above to get him out of the way and it broke. Oh good. (fortunately I have a back-up metal fork but I don't care for it)
Finally I made it into the chicken coop to get the girls up for the morning and found a broken egg on the floor. Usually not a big deal, but yesterday morning it was the icing on the cake.
I was doubly angry because I had prepared some nice hot slop for the donks in the morning. Takes a bit of time to get ready and I was happily looking forward to providing this treat. Ha!! Took my bucket of hot slop back to the house with me.