This grazing muzzle business is tricky. I'm still trying to find the right ratio of muzzles on to muzzles off
so that everybody gets enough to eat. Lucy has already lost her "keg on legs" look,
so I'm removing hers three times a day so that she can self-serve breakfast, lunch and dinner.
More grazing time for her = more exercise for me since I have to go find her to remove and replace the muzzle.
My Fitbit activity log loves the idea even if I don't.
George and Alan still won't – or can't – eat with their muzzles on, so it's 12 hours with, 12 hours without for them.
Miraculously, they have not figured out a way to rub off and/or lose their muzzles.
They were, however, rubbing off the hide on the front of their faces, and that simply would not do...
...so everybody is now sporting a sheepskin liner on their grazing muzzle.
Alan: Is that a caterpillar on your face or have you grown a mustache?
George: I'm not sure, but it must be contagious.
As much as I hate making them wear these contraptions, George and Alan are getting in alot less trouble
with them on. They can't steal stuff out of the back of the Ranger anymore,
nor can they try to eat it. I take that back. They can still try, they just aren't successful.
Thankfully, the muzzles have not limited their ability to play.
In fact, they may be playing more since there's nothing else to do.
The good thing about all of these extra trips into the pasture to take muzzles on and off...
...is that there are many more opportunities throughout the day to take pictures.