Hank mans the door

There are three sliding doors at the back of our barn. During the winter, I leave two of them closed 

so that Lucy and the boys have protection from the elements if they need it.

They can come and go as they please through the one open door.

Unless Hank decides otherwise.

Alan: Hey, Hank! Move your butt. We want out.

Lucy: I think he may be stuck.

George: If he gets any wider, he'll have his own zipcode.

Hank: It pays to put my foot down occasionally to keep them in line.

George: Geesh. Whoever said donkeys are stubborn never had to deal with a Paint.

Lucy: I'm no fool. It's dinnertime. See if I let them back in.