I fill my front left jeans pocket and two back pockets with a dozen apples. The right front pocket gets no apples, thanks to a hole chewed by Caeli, the Border collie, in an attempt to get treats.
Upon returning home, I break two apples in half and offer the pieces to Lily and Jet, the Haflingers. By Day Three, they whinny in anticipation.
The rest I take to the chicken yard for the hens.
For, unlike humans, they do not mind if an apple is misshapen,
or has a bad spot,
or a worm hole.