I received a call for a saddle fit to a stable I had never been to. It was quite a long drive, and as I drove in the yard, my mood sank. The stable was an old rundown cow barn, and the yard was full of piles of junk. The owner was a grumpy old cowboy who walked with a limp. He gruffly agreed to show me the horse I had come to fit the saddle for, but I could tell he had little interest in helping me. As we walked to the stable door, I wondered about the condition of the animals inside. I got quite the shock when he opened the door. The barn was spotless, the floor clean enough to eat off. The stalls were spacious, airy and immaculate. I began to change my mind about the grumpy old cowboy as the horses were standing by their doors, nickering softly as we went by. He stopped by one stall, and I could barely see the nose of the horse inside. Thinking it was a foal, I went closer to look. It was a miniature pony. This gruff old man had built a platform in the stall so the pony was at the same height as the other horses, and he could look out at the other horses. He had a ramp into the stall, so he could get in and out easily. The old man had taught the pony several tricks, which the pony clearly enjoyed performing.
After finishing my work, I left that barn with a smile on my face, thinking of how much that gruff old cowboy loved his animals.