When I go out to the pasture, I usually break a carrot into three pieces and give a piece Chloe, and then to Lulu and Fanny. The donkeys wait patiently and politely for their carrots, Chloe, a mare pony, is not long on waiting or on patience. She stomps her feet, whinnies and puts her head through the gate. I always imagine her demanding, “Is There A Carrot For Me, Mister?” Most of the time, there is.

She just isn’t big on waiting her turn.