They haven’t had to work for months. All they have to do is hang out in their generous turnout, come inside once in a while if the weather’s vile, eat mass quantities of hay (plus a stingy ration of grain – treat time!) and dump the processed hay wherever they like, secure in the knowledge that the human who feeds them will also remove the result.
Being smart (and lazy), they tend not to wade out into the deep snow we’ve amassed over the last two months, unless the cruel human tosses their hay out there and their only hope of survival is to struggle through the wilderness to the life-saving food.
But mostly they spend their time hanging out in the run-in with their pals Cholla and Counterpoint.
Sometimes the boys play face-fight over the divider.
The game can get intense.
Eventually someone gets pissed off.
And the game is over. For now.