My Stumbling Course as a Horse

The stumbling course as a horse, as it ambles through its morning ritual.

My stumbling course,
As a horse,
Is determined by the being.

A creature so queer
That you wouldn’t dare go near.
Though really worth seeing.

The fur is just shy of pink,
It usually brings a nice drink.
And a snack that attends.

Two legs carry it to my bidding
And I am not fibbing!
But alas it mends,

My aching tummy,
With mouthfuls so yummy.
So I ask you,

What in the hay feeds me?
An answer I can’t see,
But my belly is full, and that will do.