Buddy, being the bigger male of the miniature horses, acts towards Biscuit in much the same way Wiz does – he shoves her out of the way when food arrives and makes disapproving noises when she gets attention. It's all perfectly natural I suppose and poor little Biscuit seems resigned to her place at the bottom of the social order.
On the odd occasion she gets the feed bucket to herself, nothing will distract her:
It took several minutes of name-calling and carrot-banging before she popped her head up:
But then she was right back in again, determined to grab the brief opportunity to eat in peace.
Today was special though because the neighbour who tends the empty block behind us opened the gate to their paddock, allowing them a rare chance to gorge on more grass than they've probably ever seen. Biscuit practically galloped her way in. Given she's about two feet tall it was a joyful sight:
They all eventually joined her and this time they were so busy stuffing their faces they barely registered each other's presence.
I know horses don't really smile, but I can't help but think Biscuit looked happier than I've ever seen her:
Just a few minutes ago I stepped out the back and in the darkness all I could hear was the sound of chomping punctuated by the occasional satisfied whinny.
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