The art of snarfing alfalfa

Our horses love food. All three of them. Forrest gets downright cranky while waiting for his grain since he is last in line, Lena is certain she will be forgotten or have to fight for her meal, and Bar eats the slowest of any horse I've ever met but will lick the inside of his grain tub long after it is empty. For many minutes. Somewhat obsessively, actually. Right before he wipes the grain dust leftovers off his nose and onto my shirt.

Alfalfa is like crack to them, I swear.

Before the price of hay skyrocketed, they were getting alfalfa every third feeding. Unfortunately, that would have more than doubled the hay budget for our barn owner (and in turn raised our board), so they are getting a 3-way that they all seem to like pretty well. Even Forrest, the pickiest hay connoisseur I know, snarfs it all all up. I know Peter shopped around for good hay and did the best he could without selling his first (and only) born child, and the horses are all holding weight and certainly getting enough to eat, so in my book he's done his job for my horses.

But as much as they like the hay, it is not (NOT) alfalfa, so we have been buying some and giving it to them as a treat.

There is an art to the enjoyment of the alfalfa.

Bar likes to toss it and snuffle through it for whatever the tastiest parts are.

The pre-sift toss.

"That's it. That's the best piece."

Lena likes to shove it under her gate and stretch for it.

Such a beautiful long neck.

Snuffle, snuffle, snarf, snarf.

Forrest wants me to just leave him alone with it so he can savor it's tasty goodness.

"Go away, weird lady. I'm savoring."

There is something completely relaxing about the sound of horses chewing. Nom, nom, nom.