Ginger had met stubborn animals before. She had known a dog who refused to come inside when it rained, a chicken who insisted on laying her eggs behind a stack of firewood, and a horse who could somehow become twice her normal size whenever she didn’t want to go through a gate. But Ginger had never met an animal quite as stubborn as Clarence.

Clarence belonged to a neighbor who lived down the road. He was a small gray donkey with enormous ears, a white muzzle, and a dark stripe running down his back. Ginger had seen him many times standing beside the fence, looking as though he were thinking important donkey thoughts.

One Saturday morning, Ginger was visiting when the neighbor asked if she would like to help lead Clarence from the little pasture to the barn. “Sure,” Ginger said. The neighbor handed her the lead rope. “Sometimes he can be a little stubborn.” Ginger looked at Clarence. Clarence looked at Ginger. “How stubborn?” she asked. “You’ll see.”

Ginger took hold of the rope and started toward the barn. “Come on, Clarence.” Clarence did not come on. Ginger took another step, and the rope tightened. Behind her, Clarence planted all four hooves in the dirt and lowered his head slightly. “Come on.” Clarence’s ears moved forward. Ginger tugged. Clarence leaned backward. She tugged harder. Clarence leaned farther backward. For several seconds, Ginger and Clarence remained connected by a perfectly straight rope, each waiting for the other to surrender.

“Are you coming?” Ginger asked. Clarence blinked. Ginger was fairly certain that meant no.

She loosened the rope and walked back to him. “Maybe you didn’t understand. We’re going to the barn.” Clarence looked toward the barn, then he looked in the opposite direction. “No,” Ginger said. “Not that way. This way.” Clarence took one step in the opposite direction. Ginger stared at him. “You understood every word I said, didn’t you?” His ears twitched.

Ginger tried pushing him from behind, but Clarence did not move. She put both hands against his rump, dug her shoes into the dirt, and pushed with all her strength. Clarence continued standing exactly where he had been standing. “You are not that heavy,” Ginger told him. Clarence was, in fact, that heavy.

Ginger tried pulling again. She tried walking in a circle. She tried scratching his ears first. She tried asking nicely. Then she tried asking very nicely. “Clarence, would you please come to the barn?” Clarence stood perfectly still.

She picked a handful of grass and held it in front of him. Clarence ate the grass, then stayed exactly where he was. “That was supposed to make you follow me,” Ginger said. Clarence chewed.

Ginger put her hands on her hips. She was beginning to suspect that the donkey was enjoying himself. “All right,” she said. “If you won’t go to the barn, we’ll just stay here.” She dropped the lead rope and sat down in the dirt. Clarence watched her while Ginger picked up a little stick and drew circles in the dust. She drew a house, then a tree, then a donkey with enormous ears. “This is you,” she told him. “Except I made your ears smaller so they would fit.”

Clarence stepped closer, but Ginger ignored him and drew another donkey. Clarence took another step. Ginger glanced up. “Oh, now you can walk.” Clarence stopped immediately. Ginger looked back at her drawing. A moment later, she heard a soft thump behind her. Clarence had taken another step

Ginger stood slowly, picked up the rope, and began walking toward the barn without looking back. For three steps, Clarence followed. Then he stopped. Ginger stopped too. She didn’t pull. She didn’t push. She simply stood there. After a moment, Clarence walked forward. Ginger walked again, and Clarence followed.

They made it halfway across the pasture this way, walking, stopping, waiting, and walking again, until Clarence suddenly veered toward a patch of weeds. “No, you don’t,” Ginger said, but Clarence buried his nose in the weeds. Ginger waited while Clarence ate. She waited some more. Eventually, Clarence lifted his head and looked at her. “Finished?” Apparently he was, because he began walking toward the barn before Ginger did. “Well, excuse me,” Ginger said, hurrying after him.

When they reached the barn, Clarence walked straight through the open door and stopped beside his stall as though he had been planning to go there all along. The neighbor laughed. “Looks like you figured him out.” Ginger shook her head. “I didn’t figure out anything. He just finally decided to come.

She removed the lead rope and gave Clarence a scratch between his ears. He lowered his head and leaned against her shoulder. “Oh, so now you like me.” Clarence closed his eyes, and Ginger smiled as she rubbed his forehead. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

Then the neighbor brought out a bucket and said, “Want to help me take him back to the pasture?” Ginger looked at Clarence. Clarence opened one eye.

“No,” Ginger said.

Clarence’s ears shot forward.

For the first time all morning, Ginger and the donkey agreed completely.