Straw potato

Max's skills at adapting his environment to suit his comfort have reached a new plateau.

I thought it was a one off, but now, three days in a row I have found him lying down contently in his bed, straw stuck in his forelock and mane from a good stretch and scratch, quietly munching hay that has been dragged over from its usual spot in the corner of his box to one more convenient atop his straw bed. This way it is within easy reach of his chomping gnashers: breakfast in bed.

Max can't reach his hay spot from his prone position, therefore he must move it before he lies down, with intention and forethought.

When it comes to creature comforts, as with most things. Max knows where his priorities are.