My father owned a boat when I was growing up. That boat was the bane of his existence. Every winter, when the boat didn’t go out very much, he would run it a few times to make sure that the engine didn’t break. Every spring, without fail, something would go wrong. One year the steering stopped working. The next it leaked oil.
He would go out to the boat, armed with a gallon of Evinrude XD50 oil and come home cursing and stomping, because there was always one more thing wrong with it. Just when he thought that he had the boat fixed, it would die, usually in some extremely inconvenient place. While the boat refused to work properly most of the time, he loved it and would never part with it.