If you were at Oakfield Farm last week you would have overheard this conversation:
Ed: When are you going to put the horses over into the grass pasture?
Irish: yeah, when? That's what I want to know!
Me: We have to wait for the grass to be growing well, so in about a week or so.
Irish: A week? I'll die!
Ed: Can you be more specific?
Irish: I vote tomorrow. Tomorrow is good.
Me: I can't. It all depends on how the grass grows.
Irish: Don't listen to her. Listen to me. I'm a horse. I know about these things.
Ed: I need to schedule the backhoe to fix the drainage around the barn. It would help if I had a date that they were in the back.
Irish: Exactly! See, you are holding up much needed repair work.
Me: You book the person and I will see how things come in. I have to wean them over carefully and I want to make sure that the grass is well established. Otherwise it won't last.
Irish: You don't need to wean me. How about I just eat little bits at first?
Me: Really Irish? You will just eat a 'little bit'? Rather than diving in like the contestants on Survivor at a buffet?
Irish: yes. It's called negotiation and I nailed it.
Me: Hmm. Somehow I don't believe you.
Irish: Frankly I'm hurt.
Me: well that's better than you foundering or colicking from too much grass too soon. Plus I don't want to ruin the grass.
Irish: You worry too much. I'm not talking to you anymore. I'm talking to other servant: listen, when she's gone to work and you are home just let us over. She doesn't have to know. It will be between us guys.
Ed: He's pretty convincing you know.