//------------------------------// // June // Story: My Little Dashie: 2020 // by Rdasher12 //------------------------------// *June 21st, 2020* (Father's Day) Father's Day has always been an awkward one for me. For the longest time before finding Dashie, I always assumed that I'd never get the chance to be one; forever alone with a dead-end job and hardly any friends. Even when I first found Dashie, it took quite some time for Father's Day to cross my mind as something that I should celebrate outside of being thankful for the father that raised me, his father, and so on and so forth. When Father's Day rolled around the first year that I had Dashie, I almost felt a little unworthy of having the title of a "father". I wasn't the biological parent of the rainbow pony that I was taking care of, nor was there any documented proof that I was a guardian to anyone or anypony for that matter. In the early days of taking care of her, I tended to shy away from acting like a parental figure towards her, in fear that she would become too attached to me and have a harder time saying goodbye whenever that time came around. I never knew how it would happen, or when, or where, but I knew that my time with her wouldn't last forever if the time was even real in the first place. Of course, it was difficult for the two of us to act like anything other than a father and a daughter towards each other. I had to teach her the basics along with anything else that she needed and wanted to know about as best as I could, and she was just a little filly. It's only natural to see an adult that you live with or spend a lot of time with as a parental figure. Over the years, she learned about Mother's and Father's Day, and she was just as adamant about celebrating Father's Day to celebrate me as she was confused as to where "Mommy" was. I had to deal with that in my own way, but that's a story for another day. As skeptical as I've always been about letting myself enjoy Father's Day, I do appreciate all the things that Dashie has done for me over the years; whether it be an attempted meal that she cooked herself, a drawing, or some sort of artwork, or even the little things like letting me watch what I want to on the TV, or letting me sleep in a little instead of jumping on me to wake me up like most mornings. She's always wanted to do more for me than she's physically able to, whether that be buying me something from the store with money she doesn't have, or taking me somewhere in an area that she can't safely expose herself to. Sometimes, she feels a little bad about it all, but I always reassure her that it's okay and I'd much rather have or do something that was made with stuff that I brought home or at the park. With the pandemic being around and all this year, you'd think that it would make our holidays a little different than usual. For a normal family, that would be true. No family or friends over, can't go out to eat anywhere or do much of anything in public, and so on. But, as I've been saying for most of the year, we never really could do things like that for holidays even if we wanted to. This Father's Day has been just about the same as every other one. Dashie made me breakfast in bed (to the best of her ability, at least. She has gotten a lot better over the years), we had a cookout for lunch with the grill that barely works in the small "backyard" we have, we watched the NASCAR race that's always on every Father's Day, and we usually just lounge around for the rest of the day before we go to bed to restart the week like it hardly ever happened. As a matter of fact, lounging around is exactly what we're doing right now. We would've gone to the park after the race if it weren't for the weather, but it certainly hasn't put a damper on our day. "Dashie, do you ever think about how repetitive our life can be sometimes?" I ask that question without really thinking about it. As if someone had forced the thought into my mind and then pushed it out in a vocal form. Dashie looks up at me from the living room carpet, quizzically. "Uhhh, nope. Not really, Pops. It's not like I really have anything to compare this to, ya know? I remember all the stories that you've told me of when you were younger and your parents were still alive. You seemed to do a whole lot more back then than we do now. I've always figured that was because of me and how we have to stay hidden and everything. It kinda makes me feel bad." I reply quickly to stifle any of Dashie's negative thoughts. "No, no, no, Dashie. It's not like that at all. Please don't think about it that way..." I take a moment to gather my thoughts. "Even if you never came into my life as you did, there wouldn't be anything to do around here. When I was a kid, this area was doing a lot better than it is now. I didn't have hardly any friends or family members to spend time with, because they all either moved away from this rotting community or are no longer with us. I wasn't in a great place before I found you. You've got to believe me when I say that you have brought so much happiness into my life over the years. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and don't you ever forget that, okay?" I try not to come off as forceful when I say that, but the last thing that I want Dashie thinking is that she negatively affected my life in any way. Dashie smiles at me and perks her ears. "Well, I guess that makes two of us, then. You found me in a box in the middle of the sidewalk. It'd be tough to argue that you didn't help me out a ton, too." I guess she does have a good point there... Although I've never been able to answer the question as to how she ended up in a box like that. She still vaguely remembers the night that I found her, all alone. She used to always ask me how she ended up where she was, but it wasn't like I knew, nor would it have been a good idea to try and find the answer for Dashie's safety. I mean, did someone else find her before me, put her in a cardboard box and write "Give to Good Home" for someone else to find? Or was she magically put into the cardboard box by chance with whatever Equestrian magic must have brought her here? Is she even the Rainbow Dash from Equestria? Could she be a government experiment that got away? Or something else? I never like revisiting this topic, as it only ever brings up more questions than answers. I decide to drop it in my head and focus on something else. I chuckle to alleviate some of the awkward vibes. I suppose some things are best left unanswered. "Well..." Dashie chimes in with a yawn and a stretch. "I think I'm gonna go take a shower and head off to bed. Planning and celebrating Father's Day for you sure can wear a mare out. Besides, you owe me a park visit before work tomorrow thanks to all this rain. And don't forget it!" Dashie grins as she gets up from the carpet and trots past me towards her bathroom. "Oh, and Happy Father's Day, again!" She exclaims as she disappears into the hallway. I exclaim back to Dashie in order to be heard from across the house. "Thank you, love you!" I hear nothing back aside from the closing of the bathroom door, although I'm sure she heard me. I usually like to make a big deal of not hearing those words back just to give her a hard time, but I decided to let it slide this one time. I take a few moments to myself to reflect on the day I've had. I'm grateful for such a great daughter each and every day, but it means the most to me on these days. I've never had someone aside from my parents and close family members want to make me a meal, and certainly, no one has ever wanted to make me breakfast in bed before she came around. It's not the actual food, but the thought that goes into it that I appreciate so much. Our Father's Days have always been simple, but that's how I like them. I know that having a rainbow-colored pony living with me is the furthest thing from "simple" or "normal". But, since she's settled into my life, it's probably been the closest I've been to normal life since my childhood when my parents were still around. She's allowed me the motivation to work harder at my job and that's led to some decent raises over the last few years. If I keep this up, I might even be able to afford a down payment and a mortgage on a new house somewhere away from this area with a better job. That certainly won't be happening anytime soon, but there's no way that I'm allowing Dashie to live her entire life with me in this house and this area. The pandemic hasn't exactly made that goal any easier, but I'm hopeful that it won't be a problem for much longer. With the mask mandate and the hotter temperatures, it's been a lot easier to control recently. Dashie and I have been lucky to not catch it so far. Of course, that is if Dashie can even catch it at all. She is technically a horse, and not many animals have been catching it compared to humans. Either that or their system is already immune to it, somehow. Then again, there is the chance that Dashie's immune system is entirely different from any animal on Earth, and it could affect her in worse ways than I can imagine. That's why we've been taking such caution when it comes to all of this. For her sake more than mine. I can always go to the doctor and get tested/treated. But, the best that I can do for Dashie is give my full attention and care. I decide that I've done enough pondering over it for one day. I don't want the idea of it to consume either of us. We still need to be able to enjoy our lives at home and the park as if it isn't happening at all. ---------- I eventually retire to my quarters for the night, wanting to get a decent amount of rest before Dashie wakes me up at the crack of dawn for that park outing. I say that as if I'm annoyed by it, but I honestly don't mind. Spending time with her at any point anywhere doing anything is always a blast compared to being alone, and the morning dew coupled with the sunrise is always a great combination. After showering first, I head back to my bedroom to turn in. However, when I walk in, I notice something wrapped on my bed. It's a gift from Dashie. In all of the years that we've celebrated Father's Day, we didn't usually do much in terms of gifts. It was better to save money, after all. I was always fine with receiving drawings and other crafts from Dashie, instead. I walk up to the foot of my bed where the gift lies, wrapped in tissue paper. Upon inspecting it, I really have no idea what it could be. I never brought anything home that she could really use as a gift for me. Furthermore, Dashie doesn't really make crafts anymore, so I'm really in the dark with this, figuratively and literally thanks to the lights being out. Tired of waiting, I open the gift slowly. After going through what seems like a dozen layers of tissue paper, I get to a small brown box. I fully uncover it to discover some level of familiarity. It looks like a miniature cardboard box that was cut out of a bigger one, maybe from the storage area in the house. The top flaps were open and sprawled out, as well. After turning on my bedroom lamp, I see that one side of the box says "GIVE". Rotating the box to the right uncovers the word "TO". Then "GOOD". And lastly, "HOME".