The Bike … a small stone.

My bike lives in the back garden each morning I take it through the house and ride her to work; I have been doing it for years ; today I noticed that … 

I grumble at  the dear girl, when she gets tangled in the curtain which hangs by the back door.  I even give that a spiteful yank as I twirl it back into its loop. I grimace when the bike bumps into the dining table, lunges towards the bookcase and drags it’s pedal along the paint work, again! Do I do this everyday? Does she notice? What would happen if I said something nice and smoothed her saddle?