When I was 13 I got a 2 year old half Arab half Quarter horse. She was a Palomino Mare and the Arab half was registered. She was green broke and I spent a year training her. When I was 14 we went to help a neighbor with his spring roundup. The neighbor had a kid my age who had a big roan Quarter horse. We had about 5 miles to ride to get back to their place in the evening so the kid and I decided to race home. My horse got the bit and I was completely out of control. She ran right through a 4 strand barbed wire fence. So with all the other things I've done to myself the worst crash I had was on a fucking horse.
When I was a kid I shoveled so much shit that I was completely immune to it. I literally shoveled hundreds of tons every year. I was skinny as a rail, but I grew up one strong SOB. My freshman year in High School the coach hung a nickname on me that stuck for a while. It was a relief situation and he called me in from first base for my first ever varsity pitch. He knew I'd be nervous so he looked at me and said in a fairly loud voice "Pilot: Get in here and finish this game." Pilot? WTF did that mean? I asked him between innings and he allowed that it had to do with my reputation for shoveling shit. Pile it here, Pile it there.
I was about 30 years old when I got my Springer Spaniel pup. The breeder was a friend of mine and when he bred his bitch he sold me a pup. I got second choice of the litter (the owner of the stud got first choice). I saw those pups on the second day of life when I helped my friend dock their tails. I saw them at least weekly for 7 weeks when the stud owner showed up to take his pup. I just knew he was going to take the big male that I wanted so I just hated going up there. He picked a really likely looking little bitch and I had my dog. Turned out to be my best dog ever. I swear to God the dog understood English at least as well as I did. Tough bastard, too. Killed a badger one on one.