My cousin: We’d really love to bring the girls [his spawn] to ride your horse. [Wife] and I told them they can have riding lessons.
Me: If you’d like to come meet her you guys are welcome anytime, but [demuring] she’s a little too feisty for kid lessons and she’s currently laid up with a tendon injury so riding won’t be on offer.
Cousin: Why would you keep a horse like that around?
Me: [sigh]
Me: I’ve got a riding lesson that Thursday, so I might be a little late picking you up from the airport.
My dad: You take riding lessons? You’ve been riding for a couple of decades. Why do you need riding lessons? Is your horse that crazy?
Me: [sigh]
My horse: [Calling down the aisle to me after hearing my car pull up and my footsteps starting down the aisle.]
Non-horsey friend: I think your horse might know you’re here. Can horses tell people apart?
My uncle: Ever taken your horse to a rodeo?
Me: She’s taken me a few times…
New saddle fitter: [Looking over my little off-breed dressage mare’s conformation] German riding pony, right? You don’t tend to see those around here much.
Me: Ha. I like you.