It's 5:15 pm. When I went out to feed this morning, I locked the horses out of the stall. They can stand under trees if they get hot - they hollowed out a stand of waiawi and it's always cool in there.
I think my husband usually feeds between 4:30 - 5:00, but sometimes it is a darn pain to get everyone where they are supposed to be. So, I am thinking, if I wait until they're really hungry, the chickens will go where they're supposed to be, the sheep and horses ditto.
It is just plain hard (and probably pretty funny for the observer) when one or two chickens decide to run around the coop, or forget how to get from the horse stall to the chicken coop. Twelve hours ago, they successfully navigated the trip from chicken coop to horse stall, but, you know, they are chickens. In spite of a bad reputation, sheep got nothing on chickens in the dumb department.
So, here I am, standing at the window looking out at all the animals lined up at their respective gates. Not the chickens....but they're pecking in the general direction of the right place. I get a kick out of going out there with the re-purposed coffee can/grain scoop. The chickens make a mad dash for my legs. The sheep start running and the horses set up a chorus. I just hope this vague feeling of guilt for making them wait for half an hour is balanced by the neat marching in file of animals and fowl heading for their respective places.
Otherwise, I will be chasing chickens with half an eye toward that bad ram.