Join Date: Oct 2009
Location: Outside of Oklahoma City
My dad tore down all 3 of my horse stalls. I cried when I walked into the barn, the first one he took down was my horse that passed away, Mango, stall. That stall meant something to me, that was where I spent the last few moments with my horse before he passed away. There were bloodstains soaked into the wood. As weird as it is, those meant something to me.
But, it was for the best. He built me two new stalls in the hay barn, with 2 more half way built. And, he kept the wood from the stalls to rebuild mine, the top board that had Mango's name in big bold Sharpie letters is now part of my older mare Rosie's stall:)
My barn is also now his shop. A 1942 Ford Tractor that's halfway rebuilt sits where my horses once stood. I would be a tad bit more happy if he would hurry up and restore my '85 Chevy.. but God knows when that will happen ;)
The fact is, there is nothing I can do about him changing my barn situation. He bought the house, he pays the mortgage, he owns the place. My job is to take care of my horses. I have never had the chance to even consider riding inside. I'll gladly ride outside. Heck, the horses run around in the cold all day, I can easily throw on my coveralls and a few pairs of thermals and call it good!
Be wary of the horse with a sense of humour. - Pam Brown