It’s entirely possible. It’s never come up in a conversation, but I could see it. I want to think her husband (who is confirmed to have it) knows better but a lot of things can go over one’s head on the spectrum.
I’d wonder if FIL had perhaps taken out a big life insurance policy on the two of them and was trying to set them up to be killed.
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I had to google lawn jockey and the picture came up as posted here.
I presume they are super heavy. All I can see is a horse bolting with that dragging behind them scaring them more.
Since a lawn jockey is usually thick metal, the reins would break, or a bridle or halter would probably come off before the lawn jockey moved.
Personally, I wouldn’t allow one on my property, I don’t care who liked it.
I would call the local metal salvage yard, and ask if they know someone that will remove it, and destroy it.
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I’m really late to this party and none of mine are horse related, but I’ve got some contributions.
When i was 4 or 5 years old, i received a handmade Raggedy Ann-type doll from my uncle’s mother who i had never met. I think she lived in France which makes this even odder. I guess it was nice enough but I HATE hate hate dolls and have always hated dolls. Even as a young child i never ever played with dolls or Barbies or doll babies or anything like that. Receiving this doll is one of my earliest memories because it really crystallized some things I knew about myself even at that age–that girly stuff isn’t for me, and i strenuously objected even at age 5 to the idea that i would grow up and have to have babies some day. (For the record, I’m 40 with my tubes tied so have successfully dodged that bullet). So rational thinking isn’t something 5 year olds have, so when I received this doll i started SCREAMING and crying and i think i tried to throw it in the fireplace. I got in HUGE TROUBLE because “Aunt Michelle (or whatever the F her name was) really thought you would like it SO YOU WILL POSE FOR PICTURES AND YOU WILL BE GODDAMN SMILING.” I have the pics (which is funny because I am betting we never sent a set of pics to France) and these pics are a riot because I’m holding the doll with the fakest-ass baby smile on my face and it is CLEAR that i’ve been crying my eyes out. I hated that doll. I made sure she ended up in the Goodwill box. Wherever she is, i still hate her. :mad:
When I was 16ish, I was very into the local college basketball team. My family had season tickets and we went to all the games. There was a 3 year run where a very cute transfer from a junior college played point guard and I looooooooooved this guy. Like, ridiculous crush. He was very talented and really lovely to watch, like only a person directing traffic in a team sport can be. I wasn’t writing our names in hearts on my Trapper Keeper, but my crush was close to that level. So on Christmas morning that year i unwrap an 8x10 framed picture of this guy THAT HE HAS SIGNED PERSONALIZED TO ME, HIS #1 FAN. Apparently my dad had a friend at the athletic department. I think i was supposed to love it but really I was so embarrassed I burst into tears. I hid it under my bed, didn’t go to any more games that season, and threw the pic away after a few days because I was so mortified. Being a teen is rough.
There was also a Christmas that my (now ex) husband had bought me a very nice fishing pole, a Lamiglas set up for steelhead. I found the pole in our coat closet and he told me to pretend I hadn’t seen it because it was for Christmas. Except that Christmas came and went and I didn’t get any gift from him at all. He told me a story about how he had had to sell it to his uncle instead (?). The next Christmas, he got me a Ruger 10-.22 target rifle and the same thing happened, only this time the story was about how he “took the gun to show to his friend” and “someone stole it out of his car” when he was paying for gas. It wasn’t too long after that I started using my critical thinking skills and had some enlightening interviews with local law enforcement and I finally figured out he was a drug addict who accepted nice sporting goods in trade when he was selling but then would trade them off when he needed to buy. We divorced not long after.
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My (current) MIL is quite well off and, remember a few years ago when designer muck boots were a fashion trend? She bought me a pair of cotton-candy pink ones with little white horses on them. They were $$ and never meant to see the bottom of a dirty stall. She obviously meant well but i couldn’t wait to sell them on eBay. ðŸ˜
