A parade of scampering felines following in her wake, Catrin put the food outside the barn. The cats fell on it, each wanting their share and more, and they were soon begging again. Catrin stopped and looked at the cats trailing her. "Now listen to me. If I feed you any more, you'll get fat and lazy and not catch any mice," she said, shaking her finger and smiling. The cats looked at her and dispersed to various hay bales and horse blankets, content to preen or nap for the moment.

Catrin mixed oats and sweet grain into neatly organized buckets. Some horses required special herb mixtures in their feed, and Catrin took great care to be certain the mixtures went into the correct buckets. Giving an animal the wrong herbs could have dire consequences, and it was not a mistake she wished to repeat. A week of cleaning Salty's stall after giving him oil of the posetta by mistake had left a lasting impression on her.

Growing impatient, the horses banged their water buckets and pawed the floor to let her know they wanted their food immediately. Benjin came into the barn and started dumping the small buckets into the larger buckets that hung in the stalls. He knew the order; this was a dance they had performed many times.

"How much wikkits root did you put in Salty's feed, li'l miss?"

"Two small spoons of wikkits and a large spoon of molasses," Catrin replied, and Benjin chuckled.

"You did good; looks like you mixed it in fine. Never thought I'd see a horse eat around a powder, but he'll eat the grain and leave a pile of powder in the bucket. I'm telling ya, he does it just to spite me," he said, walking into Salty's stall. He gave the gelding a light pinch on the belly. Salty squealed and stomped and grabbed Benjin's jacket in his teeth, giving it a good shake. Without missing a beat, Benjin emptied the feed into the bucket and patted Salty on the forehead.