Fine work, kat, I look forward to the next installment.

While recovering from a mishap in my teens, my pinto horse, Apache, would come up the stone steps and onto the porch, where we consoled each other through the bedroom screen door. A few days after he accomplished that, my mother woke me up early and said, "There is a horse in my kitchen, would you like to explain that?" Apache had opened the other screen door, then nuzzled the door knob on the wooden door until he was inside. He repeated the feat a few times after that, until my mom finally banned him from the yard unless I was with him.