Theoldgreymare, I would prefer that you did not bring my children into this discussion. I understand that you do not know this, but 6 years ago, both my children were involved in a terrible accident snorting sherbet at another child#%92s birthday party- neither have been able to produce snot since, and my youngest lost the use of one his nostrils permanently. Therefore please do not call them “snot-nosed kids”- I feel it is dreadfully inappropriate and quite derogatory.
Unfortunately, I cannot afford a $25000 psychic, but I am about to start a large business selling horse-food dispensing machines, and I am sure this will go world wide. However, I can offer you (or your friendly psychic) 25000 Norwegian kroner, if you would oblige me in contacting my father. Another possible path is a horse-whisperer, but there are not many of these in London, and my father was slightly deaf (is it possible to get horse hearing aids by the way? Otherwise I might have another business idea).
However, a warm Norse thank you for all of the help that all of you kind souls have given in the last few days. May your souls go to Valhalla. Because there has been much discussion on food, and whether a horse should eat boned chicken, I feel obliged to share my wisdom with this diagram of the apparatus with which I feed my beloved father:
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(Due to the image being slightly shrunk, the labelling is slightly unreadable - try
http://fc06.deviantart.com/fs43/f/2009/128/e/a/Horse_Feeder_by_cogwirrel.png 
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As you can see, all food is deboned in a centrifuge. This is due to an unfortunate accident 12 years ago, with my old horse and a rather bony salmon (a pink fish, often found in rivers, often growing to large sizes and extensively farmed- I do not know whether you have it in your country). Suffice to say that one of the bones went awry in poor Wendy#%92s windpipe, and he had to breath with the help of bellows for the rest of his life.
I would like to offer an explanation of the diagram. At supper time, we place whatever meal the family may be having into the blender, along with the last of the medication that my father used before he died: mainly for his neurosis, but also for an arthritic leg. The food is blended for approximately 1 hour and 36 minutes, but this may vary by up to 40 seconds, depending on the type of food being blended. At this point, the vacuum pump is automatically activated, and the food begins flowing up the pipe and towards the centrifuge, in a similar manner to a dentists sucker.
The centrifuge spins at exactly 10400 revolutions per minute, and this serves a dual purpose. First (and as mentioned previously above), it removes all the dense bones in the meat, ensuring that the horse does not lose the function of its lungs, but also it caters to my fathers love of airy, light food, by ensuring that only the food of very little density makes it to my fathers sensitive and delicate palette.
Having been made airy and delicious, it goes down the distillation tubing. This increases the purity of the food by 6.7bhres, removing approximately 69% of the hard minerals in the water, and replacing this with sugar cubes (made only from the finest Danish sugar plantations). Finally, the food reaches the end of the tube, where it is released into the air and lands in the food-containment chamber. The time spent airborne contributes to aforementioned airiness, due to a fan blowing air onto it. This air is very special, since it has been especially captured and compressed in the Scottish highlands, one of my father#%92s favourite holiday destinations, and I think it adds a certain jågölakiö (I am unable to find a translation for this beautiful Swedish saying) to the food.
The food containment chamber is pre-heated (or cooled) to the ideal temperature for the meal to be served at, and should my father find the food somewhat bland, then he has three different pressure pads at his feet, where he can add a selection of his favourite sauces, to spice up the dish.
Lastly, I would like to add (as I have discovered this year), that this apparatus makes absolutely excellent gloop for babies, and removed much of the hassle that my wife had with breastfeeding.
Hunterseat, Currently, I am residing in the beautiful country of the United Kingdom, but I have only been living here for a few months, after my move from Estonia. I am sorry that I do not live near Memphis, because I would have loved to have had you over for dinner so that you could meet my father.
Lastly, Shiver, I find it quite insensitive that you would have me “put down” my father, especially since I have already lost him once. I think he would have been (and is) far more happy as a horse than as a bachelor, due to his old love of neighing, and his passion for trotting around our garden.
Many thanks, and yours sincerely, graciously and gratuitously,
Ted Newton