Things my father learned to do because of my crazy hobby:
1. Drive a truck and trailer with 2 large horses, neither of whom is particularly interested in standing up properly. Bonus points for knowing how to remove divider in trailer so that particularly fussy horse can be turned around and walked out head-first instead of backing up.
2. Muck a stall. Bonus points for mucking Dunn's stall every day (except when Shelly and Cindy beat him to it) when he was on stall rest and I was recovering from carpal tunnel surgery. Extra bonus points for all the days he didn't go home and change first, and mucked the stall in his shirt and suit pants (usually with tie still on).
3. Tack up a horse. Despite the fact that my dad does in fact know how to ride, he learned how to saddle and bridle long before he started taking lessons. My early instructor was barely 5' tall, and therefore thought nothing of putting her 10 and 11 year old students on horses over 16 hands. Dad learned how to stick his arm up and bring an evading horse's head down in the very early days of my riding career (anyone remember Billy?).
4. Ride a horse. After years of driving the carpool and helping me get ready for lessons, he signed up at a barn closer to our house "just to see what the big deal was." Sadly, after a couple falls and a couple broken bones, I don't think he ever really saw what I did. And then he took up tennis and never sat on a horse again.
5. Proper use of bungee cords, duct tape, and extension cords to set up horse show stalls. Bonus points for knowing what height to hang buckets at in the stalls, and always remembering extra screw-eyes and double-end snaps.
6. Smile when Saturdays and Sundays (including Father's Day, every year) meant heat stroke (literally on one occasion), 16 hour days, and a daughter who probably didn't say thank you as often as she should have!
Made me cry.
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