I could have sent her back...

Dear Diary,

Dashie has stopped flying altogether. She just sits on the couch in front of the TV all day, only even getting up to walk when she needs to use the restroom. Aside of that, she does nothing but sit there, even sleep there. Her bed has just been sitting in her room, perfectly made and gathering dust for the past three weeks.

Last night, I was met with the shock of my life after I came home from pulling overtime at work. No sooner had I walked through the door than I was assaulted by a noise that I had once seen as a source of joy:

"...I used to wonder what friendship could be..."

I froze in place. I'm not sure what I expected to happen from there. Dashie was just sitting there, basking in the glow of her birthplace, her original home. I'll be honest, I was rendered completely speechless. I couldn't muster anything, not even something cliche'd like "I can explain." I just stood there like an idiot for maybe five minutes, all the while, Dashie paid me no notice, and just kept munching her chips and watching the show.

Before long, an extended scene came on where Rainbow Dash found herself in a race against Spitfire. I'll confess to never having seen this one... it must have been brand new. Dashie put down the chips when this scene came on, and just folded her forehooves behind her head. Her expression didn't even change, she just stared at it without a hint of a care.

"Is this me?" she finally said, blankly, as the on-screen Rainbow Dash powered through several rings, clouds, and the sound barrier all at once.

"I'm pretty sure," I eventually replied, the little frog in my throat croaking on every syllable, "Yeah."

Dashie said nothing, she just took another bite of her chips.

I had to say something. Anything. I tried desperately to look for the right words, but the only thing that came out was "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be," she promptly, stoically replied, as she munched down the last chip in the bag, "It's not your fault."

The Rainbow Dash on-screen was wearing a gold medal around her neck and crowd-surfing in an audience of adoring fans who all chanted her name, "RAINBOW DASH! RAINBOW DASH! RAINBOW DASH!" Meanwhile her best friends, the other five ponies of the mane 6, traded hugs and hoofbumps as Pinkie Pie did her best to keep the confetti flowing nonstop.

In her shoes, I would have been moved to tears. But she just stared.

"Kind of a relief, actually," she deadpanned, crumpling the empty bag into a ball and tossing it over her shoulder, where it joined several other bags that had met a similar fate. "Could you grab me another bag?"

I walked to the pantry and opened it up. "Cheetos or Funyuns?" I asked her, nervously.

"Cheetos."

I took the Cheetos bag, and slowly walked it over to her. This wasn't exactly healthy behavior, but now wasn't the time to worry about that.

I half expected her to hungrily snatch the bag out of my hands when I walked close. Instead, she just patiently waited for me to plop it in her lap. Only a year ago, Dashie was so small she wouldn't have been able to see over the bag. Now, she was basically full-size, but where her flanks should have been adorned with the imposing symbol of a cloud and a bolt of multicolored lightning, instead there was nothing but a cheesy, yellow smudge.

She halfheartedly accepted the bag. By now, the MLP episode was almost over, and the mane 6 were all gathered in a group hug.

"Thanks, daddy." She switched the channel over to Cartoon Network, cutting off the last moments of the episode.

Shame. It looked like a good one.