The trick is, I reckon, to get the nutrition to go die-rectly into her fourth compartment, cuz from the scent o' things 'round the barn, everything in her tummy must be gettin' hung up somewhere 'round number two.
Now, how you go 'bout accomplishin' that feat is far above this here farm boy's capabilities. Ain't many table scraps to be had 'round here. Plenty o' Miller Lite beer, though.