We opened the barn door to the sweet smell of alfalfa and oats; barn cats came stretching out of their hiding places in one giant purr. The calves were hungry, so was the dog, and I suppose the chickens were too, judging by their empty feed tray.
This girl was agast that she'd not gotten the memo that a photographer would be arriving today. Oh, drat, she hadn't had time to straighten her tail feathers!
The horses were down for water, and followed us from gate to chicken coop, to gate, all seven, eight of them? I didn't count.
Our sentry stood at the old chicken coop door while we were inside. Head down and docile, just waiting.
We were farm-caring.