My dad, like many horse dads and horse parents out there, was not thrilled about me picking up this sport. He was not a fan of his little girl riding on the back of a 1000 pound animal and then asking it to jump over elevated sticks, just for fun. In some ways, he’s right… I mean, really, who thought it would be a grand idea to get on the back of a large prey animal that spooks at its own shadow and ask it to go over hurdles? I don’t know, but I’m glad someone did because there’s lots of us crazy equestrians out there who really love it.
During my early riding days, my dad was reluctant to come watch my lessons. My mom also rode for many years when I was younger, so going to the barn was mostly a mom and daughter event. When I was successful in conning my dad into coming to the barn, he’d often bring a book or a sketchbook to keep himself occupied so he wouldn’t have to watch me jump up the neck, balance without stirrups, or continuously coax a speedy pony back to the trot. After the lesson, I’d attempt to involve him in grooming the school pony because I thought it was so silly that my dad, my strong, protective father, could be weary of an adorable 14.1 hand pony.
As the years went on, he’d patiently listen to me explain the various grooming tools, how they are used, and he’d watch me tack up on my own, no longer needing his help to lift the saddle onto the horse’s back. Probably about two years into leasing Pilot in high school, I once again invited my dad to come to the barn. He replied, “Yeah, ok. Just as long as we aren’t there too long.” (I had a reputation for saying I’d be gone for one hour and then coming home four to five hours later. I swear time moves faster at the barn.)
I had just gone into the tack room to fetch my saddle, and when I returned, low and behold, there was my father gently currying Pilot on the neck. Pilot is generally a pretty calm horse who cares very little about what’s going on around him unless it involves food. He has a quiet appreciation for being loved on and groomed, and is rarely reactive. I’m not sure what happened that day, but Pilot lured the horse lover out of my dad, and he has never looked back.
From then on, my dad made more of an effort to join me at the barn to give Pi a banana (his MOST favorite treat). If he was too busy to come with me, he’d remind me to grab a banana on my way out “for the big guy.”
Eventually, I left home to attend Washington University in St. Louis (Missouri), and my dad quickly figured out that if he sent me a picture of Pilot, my text response rate would exponentially sky rocket.
EVERY WEEK for the next four years, my father, the man who was nervous around the school ponies, would drive to the barn by himself to give Pilot a banana and send me lots of pictures, just to check in with me. Of course, I didn’t mind! I loved hearing my dad’s stories about how Pilot once again had slobbered banana all over his coat or how Pilot really loved running full speed at him for more treats, especially when the bugs were bad in the field. One time he even sent me a picture of the carrots he had cooked just for Pilot (Pi has had a couple teeth removed due to old age so soft foods are best for him). These visits and pictures kept us connected while I was away and strengthened the relationship I have with my dad today.
I now lovingly refer to my father as “The Banana Guy” and visiting Pilot has become a father and daughter event. Of course, Pilot loves these visits since my dad is essentially a walking banana dispenser. More importantly, I love these visits because I get to spend time with my dad away from the distractions of normal life.
Recently, my dad has been eager to practice putting on Pilot’s halter by himself and leading Pi in from the paddock. Pilot may be 31 years old, but he is still playful and likes to sneak up behind you and nudge you with his nose. My dad has mastered the side-step to avoid the nudge and is learning how to keep Pilot next to him. Oh, and also how to watch where his feet are… learned that one the hard way, I’m afraid.
Last week, my dad came out to visit Pi with me and while I was brushing Pi, my dad walked outside and disappeared for a bit. He’s an architect and he’s often disappearing to look at buildings, so I figured maybe he was walking around the antique silo or just taking in the view. Anyway, I continued brushing when, suddenly, my father reemerged in the doorway, both hands FULL of grass. I started laughing and my dad, with a serious face, said, “What? Doesn’t he like clover?” “Yes, Dad, yes, he LOVES clover.”
As I finished brushing Pilot, my dad fed him his hand-picked grass and continuously went out to pick more as Pilot chewed contently.
Happy Father’s Day to my father, the Banana Guy. I can’t thank you enough, Dad, for endlessly supporting my dreams, ambitions, and passions, and for loving Pi as much as I do. Here’s to all the fathers (and really to all the horse parents) out there who cheer on your riders in whatever way you can. We are so grateful to have you in our lives!
