Pot of Gold

Who would think it.  This little bag of carrots can create a whirling dirvish with not only the dogs and the donks, but with the horses next door.

The saga starts with the cutting of the carrots.  Two black dogs run to the kitchen from whatever location in the house to stand guard in case a errant piece flies to the floor or mom decides to be generous.

Then we go out to give treats to the donks.  Sometimes, we make a pit stop at the fence next door and call the horses.  Often I'm faced with big heads and big lips coming at me across the fence.  And then the dogs start jumping and barking at the horses, because the brutes are getting THEIR carrots.  The injustice of it all.

Donkeys then get their share and those little lips are in constant motion begging for yet another piece. Donkeys are such gentle creatures, one is rarely in danger of getting bit fingers.  One would only get lipped to death.

And then I say "enough" and everyone lets out a collective groan.  Alas, no more golden carrots until the next day.