My Little Dashie Stories

Chapters

First Day with Dashie
First Halloween
Sick Day
First Fight
A Daughter's Life

First Day with Dashie

Morning came, as I slowly opened my eyes. The sun shined in through the window next to me and stung my eyes as though punishing me for waking up. Once I regained my vision, I looked across the room to the kitchen clock, which read ten thirty am. Luckily it was a Sunday, so I didn't have to worry about being late for work. I then look back down towards the floor I slept on, hoping to get another glimpse at the filly that I brought home last night. However when I look to my side, I find she isn't there. I then look back up towards my father's old recliner and find her sitting on the far ledge of the left shoulder, trembling with fear.

I slowly reach towards her, but she flinches away before I even make contact. I really don't find this all too surprising. After all, we just met last night, in the dark, when she was half asleep. Also taking into account is how young she is and might not have a fully developed memory just yet. In truth, this is probably the first time she's ever seen me in full light.

"It's okay…" I gently say, slowly making my approach towards her. " I won't hurt you."

She doesn't move, only stares with more curiosity. I get a little closer and she steps backwards, tripping a little bit when her hoof slides off the ledge. I don't move much further, as I fear she may loose her balance and fall. She then slowly steps to the side, and her weight causes the recliner to tip forward. The force causes her to loose her balance and fall off the edge.

I then dart forward, catching her just before she hits the ground. My efforts go unrewarded as she flaps her little wings and wiggles all four legs. She then starts making loud screeching noises, as I hold her at a distance to avoid injury. The power jetting from her body soon becomes too great, as I start to loose my grip on her.

I then slowly pull her towards my body, receiving a couple of kicks from her flapping legs. Fortunately her body strength is not that powerful, so the worst I can expect are a couple of bruises. However she becomes more terrified as she draws closer to my chest, and soon attempts to push me away with her front hooves, as she continues kicking me with her back ones. I then attempt to quiet her with a series of "ssshhhsss."

Surprisingly she starts to calm down, as though she didn't expect me to take such a course of action. Taking advantage of the moment, I then pull her into a hug, to which she gives no resistance.

"There, there…" I quietly say, stroking her mane. "See, I told you I wouldn't hurt you."

She looks up with her large violet eyes. Though she remains still, I can tell she's still not completely kosher with me just yet.

"You want here a song," I ask, to which she gives a semi nod. I then sing a song that my mother used to sing to me when I had problems, a lullaby by Billy Joel.

"Good night my angel, time to close your eyes, and save these questions for another day…"
As I sing, she falls asleep in my arms. I then pick up the blanket that was left sitting in my father's recliner, and wrap her in it. I then her carry her over to the couch, and watch as she sleeps in my arms.

I once again find myself asking what she is doing here, and more importantly… what has become of me? Why am I acting this way? I'm a twenty five year old man after all, whose spent most of life alone and at a dead end job. I've never really had anyone to take care of before and really, aside from My Little Pony Friendship Is Magic, I'm not really much of kind hearted guy around the neighborhood. I almost feel like I SHOULDN'T be the one taking care of her. Maybe she should be with some eight-year-old girl who loves taking care of animals. After all, isn't that who the My Little Pony franchise was originally meant for?

But really, after seeing this sweet little filly… something happened last night. Something happened… to warm my weak heart, and… it feels so right.

After about half an hour, she opens her eyes and looks up from her little blanket made sleeping bag. She yawns, and then places her front hooves over her growling stomach.

"Are you hungry?" I calmly ask.

She only looks at me, as though not fully understanding the question.

"Here, let's go get some breakfast," I say, lifting us both off the couch and carrying her into the kitchen.

As I walk, she wraps her front legs around my chest, and pushes her face inward. I then get that same feeling of warmth that I felt last night. I look down, and shed a small tear of joy.

I then put the filly in a small high chair. It was the same one my parents had used when I was a baby. I still don't know why they kept it all these years, but it was quite handy for the time being. Of course, there was the matter of what to feed her. She seemed to like the carrots last night, but the question was would they have any kind of negative effect on her? She is a filly, but not one from this world. Could food from this world affect her differently than in Equestria, could I have just poisoned her last night? No, otherwise how could she be here now? Maybe I'm thinking about this too much.

I decided to play it safe and got her some more carrots. Once again I broke them up like I did last night. Maybe someday she could eat them whole, but for now, it's best not to fix what isn't broken. However once I get them in her mouth, she spits them out into my face. Now what?

"What's wrong," I ask. I don't really know why I asked, it's not like she can talk.
She then started reaching out for something that was behind me. I turned around and noticed a small jar of peas on the back counter. Is that what she wanted? I went over and held it up over her head, to which she continued to reach for it, convincing me that this was in fact what she wanted. I unscrewed the top and scooped some up in a small teaspoon. I then fed it to her slowly, and she happily chewed it with a smile.

I couldn't help but let loose a big smile of my own; she just looked so adorable chewing her food like this. She then signaled that she wanted more, so I gave her a bit more. Finally after about six spoons, she started jolting her head forward a bit. At first I couldn't figure out what was going on. Was she sick and about to throw up? Then I remembered she was just a baby, so maybe she needed to be burped. I then picked her up and held her against my shoulder, as I gently patted her back. Sure enough, she let out a small burp, and rubbed her head against my shoulder with a smile.

The rest of the day was spent playing around the house. Despite her young age, she had a very curious mind, and wanted to explore every inch of my house. I led her around with a small game of peek-a-boo in various areas, which seemed to keep her motivated.

Then, she came across the family picture on the living room wall. She eyed it very curiously, as though she didn't know what to think. I honestly didn't know what was going on, she was curious about everything in house, but this in particular stood out to her. I knelt down and got close before speaking.

"This is me… along my mommy and daddy," I said softly, feeling a little foolish for using the terms "mommy" and "daddy".
"da…d…da…da," I heard the filly stutter.

I couldn't believe my ears, was she starting to talk? I seriously didn't expect her to speak so soon. Then again, I honestly have no idea how old she actually is. Perhaps she is capable of speech, and just hasn't learned it yet.
I tried motivating her to speak, only managing to get her to say the first syllable. But before I knew it, she yawned and started to get down on her stomach. I simply smiled and gently scooped her up. I then carried her back to the couch, and sat down with her in my arms. She was still awake, so I started to sing her the song again.

"Good night my angel time to close your eyes, and save these questions for another day…"

The filly then started to close her eyes.

"…some day your child may cry and if you sing this lullaby, then in your heart there will always be a part of me."
Soon the little filly was asleep, and I myself started to fall asleep myself. All I could think about, was how wonderful this day was… with this little angel… this little filly… this little…Dashie.

Then before I closed my eyes, I heard something… and looked down at the little filly. I saw her lips moving, and then she stuttered it, her very first word: "Daddy."

First Halloween

It's now been one whole month since that night I found Dashie. The two of us really have something going now. For starters she's actually beginning to enjoy bath times and is making more progress learning to speak. However she still refers to me as "Daddy," and at this point, I've pretty much given up trying to convince her otherwise. I'm almost starting to hope she goes back to Equestria soon, because I don't want her to get attached and then be hurt when we're finally separated. Yet at the same time… I'm really starting to feel attached to her myself, and hope that day will never come. Either way, we were coming up on our first holiday together… Halloween.

I must say that it's not exactly the best holiday to start with. I mean she is very young, and I have no idea how she would react to all the spooky decorations and costumes. But I do think she should have at least some exposure to it. I know from the show they have a holiday called "Nightmare Night," which is a lot like Halloween here, in which the ponies go door to door for candy and have parties together. Since I have no idea how long she'll be here, I might as well prepare her for a life in Ponyville. Besides, I love Halloween.

I went shopping at the local Wal-Mart one day. I feared the decorations I had at home would be too freighting for her, so I thought it would be a good idea to get some new, less scary decorations. I picked out the cutest ones I could find, and even got a little pumpkin for her. When I got home and put it on the table, she eyed it curiously.

"This is a pumpkin Dashie," I said with a smile. "We make faces on it, and put it out for everyone to see."

"W-w-w-why?" she asked with a stuttering voice, not quite getting the full grasp of speaking.

I looked at her with a dumb found look. Honestly, I didn't know. It was a just a long tradition I had done with my parents, I never really stopped to think about it. So I just came up with the quick answer "because it's fun." I then asked if she wanted to help me make a face.

Dashie looked at me unsatisfied with the answer, but nonetheless nodded her head. I picked her up and set her on my lap. I obviously wasn't going let her use the sharp knives, so the only alternative was using a crayon. Of course I had to help her out. One: she didn't have any fingers and two: she hadn't yet learned to write. I took a purple crayon out of the box I had bought and put it between her front hooves. Then I gently pushed them together to give her a grasp. I then guided her along the front of the pumpkin and we drew a very silly face with a tongue sticking out. She giggled at the finished result… and I laughed with her.

She then wanted to do another, but was disappointed that I only bought one pumpkin. I got her some paper, and set it on the floor along with the box of crayons. I then left her to play with artistic tools as I set her pumpkin out on the porch. Nobody ever came by my house anyway, so I didn't worry about it raising suspicion. Besides, I'm a terrible artist myself. I then came in and saw Dashie struggling to pick up the crayons. She tried grabbing them with her hoof, and later tried to grasp them with her mouth. But no matter what, she just couldn't do it. I simply smiled and got on the floor with her.

"Here Dashie, let me help you," I gently said, once again helping her get a grasp. We then spent the rest of the day drawing silly faces, the both of us laughing and making a mess together. It was so heart warming … to see her so happy.

Halloween finally arrived, and I decided to give Dashie a bit of a taste of what it was like. I didn't want to take her trick or treating though, first of all I didn't think I would be able to pass her off as a kid in a costume. But more importantly, I thought some of the costumes and houses we'd pass along the way would be too scary for her.

So I decided to instead create a simulation for her. I had bought a bag of mixed candy and scattered it around the house when she wasn't looking. I then wrapped her favorite blanket around her neck to make somewhat of a costume and gave her a Ziploc bag to carry in her mouth. I then guided her around the house to the pieces of candy.

"T-t-tweck o-or t-tweet" she'd say in that tiny voice.

Even though she could've just picked the pieces up, I had her say the phrase anyway. I was actually thinking of making her say the Nightmare Night phrase from the show, but I thought it would be too long and complex for her. Every time she got a piece, she smiled and jumped around in a happy dance. Once again, my heart exploded… just from seeing her so happy.

After about an hour of our "trick or treating," she got sleepy and fell asleep with her blanket. I just smiled and gently scooped her up, then carried her to my bed. I lay her down and gently tucked her in. I then closed the door behind me, leaving it open just a crack, before going into the living room.

Each year I pick out a movie from my very small horror collection, and this year, I decided on a movie called "Nightmare on Elm Street." It was a personal favorite of mine from my early days, though I absolutely hated all the sequels. I popped the DVD in and watched in the darkness of my living room. It brought back childhood memories, ones that I had shared with my parents.

"Please God," said Tina from the movie.

"THIS is God," said Freddy Krueger, lifting his claw and dangling it in front of Tina.

Tina ran, but Freddy appeared in front of her and she darted for the back door of her house. Freddy then caught her and started to slash her to death. In desperation, she grabbed his face and pulled it off. Freddy only cackled as the flesh slid off and revealed his horrific, skinless face.

Just then I heard a thump against the wall and quickly turned around. There was Dashie, clutching her blanket and crying. I quickly turned off the movie and ran to her. I couldn't tell if she was crying from fear of what she just witnessed, or the pain of hitting her head. She must've woken up and saw that I wasn't with her, and came out to look for me, only to run straight into one of the most horrific scenes in the film.

"Oh Dashie," I calmly said pulling her into a hug, hoping it would help calm her down. "It's okay, it's not real... here let's go to bed."
I then carried her back to my room and lay down with her. I let her sleep close to me, as I didn't know if what she just witnessed would have any negative effects on her. She fell asleep in my arms, and I had just started to dose off when I felt a kick. I then bolted upwards and saw Dashie kicking and screaming in her sleep.

"Dashie, wake up, WAKE UP," I yelled while shaking her.

She woke up and instantly buried her sobbing face in my chest. "What's wrong?" I asked in a worried tone, gently stroking her mane.

"S-s-scary m-m-m-man," she stuttered through her tears.

I could only assume she was referring to Freddy. I guess it also didn't help that the character attacks people in their dreams, though the part she had witnessed hadn't established that yet.

I gently lifted her from my chest and told her that he wasn't real and it was all just a movie. But she just jumped back onto my chest and continued to cry. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid, now what was I going to do?

"Here, come with me," I said gently, carrying her out to the living room. I sat down on the couch with her and turned on the TV. She quickly turned away and buried her face in my side, but then she heard a funny laughing sound. She then slowly turned to TV with curious eyes and saw Spongebob and Patrick Star playing together.

"This is Spongebob Squarepants," I happily said to her. "He's not scary now is he?"

Before I knew it, she was giggling along with the characters on the show. Eventually she giggled her way to sleep. I smiled and curled up on the couch with her, watching her sleep within the crevasse of my elbow. I soon fell asleep too, holding her against my chest like a mother bear protecting her young.

The next day, I locked all my horror movies in the highest cabinet above the sink in the kitchen. Though I'd miss watching them, I couldn't risk another night like that. I also picked up a Spongebob nightlight at Target, so Dashie would feel safe at night. She may not be my child, but she's still my responsibility. I have to make sure she's safe and well kept until she goes back to Equestria, even if that means making a sacrifice.

I only hope… that day doesn't come anytime soon.

Sick Day

I woke up one Monday morning, hopped in the shower and got dressed for work. I wasn't exactly looking forward to getting up so early, after all, Dashie and I stayed up pretty late last night playing Checkers. We were still celebrating over her Cutie Mark, I know it's a bit obsessive, but I'm just so proud of her for getting it. Much to my surprise, she's quite the skilled Checkers player. She beat me every single game we played. Although I was sort of holding back, simply because I loved seeing her so happy… especially when the reward was a big hug.

I peeked in on Dashie to make sure she knew that I was heading off to work. Upon opening her door, I noticed she was still in bed. This wasn't that unusual; she does usually get up about the same time I do, but she has been known to sleep in once in a while… especially when she stays up real late.

"Get up Dashie" I called to her, trying not to startle her too much. " I've got to go to work, and I want to make sure you know I'm leaving."

Surprisingly, she doesn't answer me. Usually it takes only one shout to get her up, and when I mention that I'm going to work, she usually wishes me a good day and gives me a good-bye hug. I look forward to that every morning.

"Dashie?" I ask, this time walking closer to her bed to see if anything's wrong. I pull down the covers to see if it will motivate her to get up. That's when I find the little filly shivering. She can't be cold, it's the middle of fall, and I've got the heater turned up to at least sixty degrees. I reach down and feel her neck, and find she's running a fever. She opens her eyes, but only slightly, looking up at me like a hurt whale begging for its mother

"D-d-da- daddy…" she attempts to speak, her voice sounding all dry and scratchy. "M-m-my throat… hurts…and… I'm cold…" she says, curling up in a ball attempting to keep herself warm. My heart suddenly stopped and my mind went into pure shock. Four whole years of taking care of her and I was completely unprepared to deal with this… a cold.

After calling my boss and telling him I had the flu, I turn my attention to Dashie, whose lying under a blanket and a heating pad on the sofa. I had the TV on for her, hoping that maybe an episode of Spongebob would help her feel better. Unfortunately, it was the episode where he gets sick with the suds, so that didn't help her in the slightest. She didn't feel like watching TV anyway, she just wanted to sleep. I let her do that and sat by her side as she slept.

I was so worried about her. I've always been there to help whenever she's gotten a scrape or a bruise, but I've never known her to get sick. I wasn't even sure how this would affect her. A cold is really nothing, you'd be miserable for about a day or two, but you'd be back on your feet in no time. But this was just a little filly, one that wasn't even from this world.

Would an infectious disease from this world be more severe than on a regular person? For that matter, she's never gotten sick before. Could it be that her immune system holds strong for a good for long time, but then she finally gets sick… and then… NO!!!

I can't think like that, I won't think like that. My daughter needs me now more than ever, and even if I wind up losing my job for taking too many sick days, I'm gonna sit here and watch her get better with my own eyes.

Dashie slept for about four hours, I stayed with her the whole time. I actually wound up breaking my three-year streak of an Internet less life, and tried to find some information about what to do for horses with colds, but to no avail. The best I could find was some information about special remedies, and there's not a town for over eighty miles who'd sell such a thing. I can't take her to a doctor, I can only imagine how'd they react to a talking cyan filly. I could try giving her some cold medicine, but I have no idea how it would affect her system.

My hands were tied, I could either chance it and give her some medicine… or sit here and pray things get better. I ordered pizza that night, so I wouldn't have to leave Dashie's side. I made her some chicken soup and made her drink lots of OJ, which thankfully seemed to help her throat a little. But she still wasn't feeling much better and just continued to lie there on the sofa, looking so miserable.

After another three hours, I finally caved. I just had to try giving her some cold medicine… it may have been my only hope. I ran down to the local CVS, and bought some children's cold syrup and nice stuffed teddy bear to cheer her up. I got home and poured the medicine in the cup, then gave it to her along with the bear. She hesitantly drank it, making a sour face at the taste.

Then… the worse happened.

She vomited up everything she had eaten that day and fell off the couch onto the floor.

What… have I done?

I started crying and picked her up, holding her tightly to my chest. She didn't say anything… only shivered even more. I wasn't even sure if it was the medicine that caused her to react this way. I didn't know whether I should try to give her more… or maybe try a different brand. I didn't even know for sure if she had a cold at this point… or something far worse. This is all my fault… I should've been better prepared for this… I should've had a plan... after all… everyone gets sick at some point in their life.

The carpet became severely stained with my tears as I sat there holding the shivering filly for what seemed like an hour. I don't know what to do… I can't take her to a doctor… I can't give her medicine… and the Internet was of no use. So… I do something… I haven't done in years… I pray.

Before she died, my mother left me a bible… and told me to use it if I ever truly felt lost. I don't even remember the last time I used it, but I need it now more than ever. I fish the bible out of my bed table and hold it tightly to my chest with one arm as I hold Dashie with the other.

I kneel down on the floor… and proceed to pray.

"Dear lord… I haven't spoken to you in long time. I don't even know how you still feel about me… or how you've ever felt about creatures from beyond this world. But I beg of you… please… spare my little Dashie's life. She's so young… and doesn't even know that this is not actually her world. Do you think that's fair… that she's unknowingly taken away from her home… only to die simply because she wound up with someone who just couldn't get her the right medical care."

Before she came into my life… I had nothing worth living for. I even may have considered suicide once or twice before. But then… that day came when I found her in that cardboard box.. and everything changed. She's my daughter, and without her… I don't know where I 'd be today.

I've done everything in my power… to ensure she's had the best damn life she could in this cruel world not meant for her. She's been happy with me all these years… and I'm sure that would all become null if she were to see me so miserable from up there in heaven.

If for some reason… this is punishment for not being as loyal as my mother … then go on ahead and do your worst. But please… don't take it on Dashie.

For my sake… and hers… please…let her play another day…"

I finished my prayer, my face now soaking wet from all the tears. Dashie showed no sign of improvement. I didn't really know if my words would make a difference.

Why would God help me anyway? I haven't exactly been the most loyal follower over the past couple of years… and it IS just a cartoon character after all. She may not even be real… just a two dimensional creature that exists solely in my socially deprived mind. That may explain why she's never gotten sick up until now… because my brain just hadn't applied that scenario yet.

But whether or not she is real… my love for her DOES exist. I just want to see her smile again… that's all.

I stayed up all night, sitting on the couch and holding her in my arms. I spent the whole time looking down at her face, she looked so beautiful despite her current condition. Even if she was to die this very evening, I still wanted to hold her in my arms… one last time. Finally, I fell asleep at about six o clock in the morning. I was woken up a few hours later… by a sweet little voice.

"Daddy…"

"Huh."

"Daddy, don't you have to go work?"

I slowly opened my eyes, and found Dashie looking at me with her large violet eyes, our noses making physical contact with each other.

"Dashie?" I asked waking up. "How… How are you feeling?"

"Pretty darn good" Dashie happily said, jumping into the air and flapping her little wings. She then started doing cartwheels in the air to prove just how healthy she was.

My face lit up as I jumped off the couch with perhaps the biggest smile ever. I quickly grabbed her from the air and pulled her into a tight hug, letting loose some tears of joy as I did. I then started twirling her around the room, knocking over some of the furniture as I walked around.

I still have no idea what exactly happened. What exactly caused her to get better, and so fast for that matter? Was it all that sleeping she did yesterday? Was it the medicine, having some strange yet positive effect on her? Was the virus really not as bad as I may have thought? Or… was this God's way of letting me know he still cared? I don't know, but all that matters… is that she's all right.

My boss called again asking if I was still sick, I told him yes and that I'd pull overtime on Friday to make up for it. I spent the whole day playing with Dashie, overjoyed by the fact that we were going to have more time together. I also got some books from the library (playing the sick, yet desperate citizen as I went) and the two of us did some research together, hoping to develop a plan should this ever happen again. We ended our day with a series of Checker games, and Dashie even let me win a couple of rounds.

All I can say is… thank you lord.

Author's Note

The very first one written. I've read tons of My Little Dashie fics and find it stunning that no one touched upon this detail, what happened when Dashie got sick? I mean he clearly couldn't take her to a doctor as he kept her secret for years. So I figured fill in that gap.

First Fight

I stumbled through the door Friday night. The clock read 10pm and I was just wiped out. Never in all my years at this job had I so badly wanted to fall down on the couch and die. I had to pull overtime tonight because I took Monday and Tuesday off to take care of Dashie. That virus really had me spooked.

Immediately upon entering my house, I noticed the kitchen floor was covered in flour, with a few tiny hoof prints leading out to the den. I guess Dashie had attempted to bake something on her own, and had another failed attempt. I do admit, sometimes I really wish she'd clean up after herself, especially on a night like this.

I then walked into the den, only to find an opened box of crayons scattered across the floor, and a lot of crumbled paper. Over the last couple of weeks, Dashie had been practicing drawing with them, and like with writing, she used her mouth to hold them. I also saw some other toys on the floor, and what looked like the remains of the food I left out for her this morning. I think I even saw some ketchup on my father's old chair. Regardless, I DIDN'T feel like cleaning it up at the moment. I was just too tired.

I plopped down on the couch and reached for the remote, hoping to maybe catch the late night re-run of the Daily Show with John Stewart. But before I could get a grasp on it, a loud voice came from down the hall.

"DADDY, DADDY…" said Dashie, running out into the den with a piece of paper in her mouth.

"Daddy, look what I drew today."

Without even looking, I simply groaned and asked her to show me later as I was just too tired. This wasn't anything new to her, she was aware that work could be tiring, and would often try to give me at least a few minutes of peace before asking for something. However today was different, she REALLY wanted me to see her drawing and just wouldn't take no for an answer.

That's when my stomach suddenly growled, and I remembered that I hadn't eaten since my lunch break at noon. I slowly lifted myself from the couch and attempted to get to the kitchen, but Dashie kept jumping in my way and insisted that I see her picture.

"Please Daddy, I worked so hard on it."

"Can you please just let me eat first sweetie," I groaned as I limped to the kitchen. However she just continued to get in my way and kept up with her begging fest.

After finally reaching the fridge, I thought to myself how great that leftover pizza would be. But when I opened the fridge, I saw the box was empty and there were crumbs leading into the living room. That's when I realized that what was on my father's chair wasn't ketchup, it was tomato sauce.

What a situation I was in. I was tired and hungry with no food, as wells as a whole house to clean up, along with the little pony who made the mess begging for me to look at her picture.

"Daddy, I really want to you see…"

That's when I cut her off as I had lost all control of my temper. All the pressure had gotten to me as I bellowed out one of the worst things I've ever said in my life.

"DASHIE… would you PLEASE just give me just five minutes to myself?!!! I've had a real rough day, haven't eaten since noon and now I've got to clean up the mess you made. I swear sometimes I wish you didn't live here with me… at least then I wouldn't have to worry about cleaning up your messes."

That's when Dashie froze, and her eyes started to tear up. I then realized what I had just said and attempted to take it all back.

"No Dashie, I…"

But before I could finish, she dropped her picture in flour on the floor, and ran to her room in tears. After I heard the door slam, I fell to my knees. I then picked up the picture she had left behind… and started sobbing when I saw what it was. She had drawn the two us in our house (albeit by the standards of an eight year old) and it had a sign over it that said "Daddy and Dashie."

I cried all over the floor, and wanted so badly to take back what I had said. This was the little girl I had taken care of all these years. And now she was showing how much she appreciated it… and I had just told her that I wished we didn't live together. What have I done?

I let an hour pass, before opening the door to Dashie's room. I saw her on the bed with her sobbing face buried in her pillow. I also noticed the window next to her bed was open, and her toys in a plastic bag… along with a picture of the two us together. She must've taken my words to heart, and decided to run away… only to be held back by her emotional attachments. I then realized a lot was at stake, and my next course of action would make all the difference. If I screwed this up, it could mean saying goodbye to my daughter forever. So figuring I couldn't put this off any longer, I walked over to her bed… and sat down beside her.

She didn't look up from her pillow, not even to see what was weighing her sheets down, as though I wasn't really there. I then placed my hand on her shoulder, only for her to shove it away immediately upon contact, which told me my words stung her worse than I thought.

"Dashie…" I slowly said, trying to sound as sympathetic as I could.

"Go AWAY," she said through her tears.

I let a moment of silence pass us by, as I attempted find the right words to say to her.

"Dashie…I'm sorry I yelled at you. I don't want you to go away, I love you. I… I just had a really rough day at work, and I took it out on you. It was wrong of me… and I'm really, really sorry."

She didn't respond and probably figured I only was saying this in an attempt whoo her back to my side. I pulled out her drawing and attempted to use it to my advantage.

"I saw your drawing. It's really good, much better than I could ever draw."

I then chuckled a bit, hoping it would lift some of the tension. But it didn't, she just continued crying, as though she could sense my desperation. I was now completely lost, and really desperate to figure out what to do next. A good minute passed, filled only with the sound of Dashie's crying. I knew this was my last chance, and if I failed now… I might never see her again. So, I decided to throw all my cards on the table, and fight fire with fire.

I then started crying into my hands, which seemed to grab Dashie's attention. She slowly lifted her head from her pillow, and looked at me with her big round eyes.

"Why are you crying?" she asked, as though she had just forgotten everything that had happened.

I spoke through my somewhat fake tears, trying to sound as pathetic as I possibly could.

"Because I had a really bad day. My boss said I was late, I didn't get a second break for dinner, all the customers were mean to me, and now my own daughter hates me."

Dashie crept closer to me, looking at me curiously as thought she didn't understand what was going on. I seriously didn't expect this to work so smoothly, but I decided to continue as best I could. She told me that she didn't hate me, and I responded by saying she was just saying that. The tables had now turned, and now she was the one trying to win back my affection.

As she tried to get through to me, I started toning down my crying act, and started playing it more like stand up comedy. I started going on a comedic rant about how horrible everything had gone today. Dashie started giggling and even joined in herself talking about her day.

Before I knew it, we were in each other's arms, the two of us giggling over how horrible our day was. I then picked her up and carried her into the kitchen then set her down in the den and grabbed my keys. I then told her to pick up her toys and I'd reward her by bringing her a late night dinner from the local Wendy's. She smiled and gave me a "got it" salute, as I headed out the door.

After the two us ate dinner and finished cleaning the house, I put Dashie to bed and took her picture back to the kitchen. I then put it on the fridge, and took a good long look at it. I thought this was good idea, so that if I ever came home in another bad mood, that picture would remind me of the wonderful daughter I have. The two of us have had a really rough week, but I think we're due for some good times ahead.

Author's Note

While these stories are all stand alone, this one's a loose sequel to Sick Day.

A Daughter's Life

It's been nearly fourteen years since I found Dashie in that cardboard box. I consider myself so lucky, having been able to watch her grow up with my own eyes. Yet I also feel like time has gone by way too fast for me. It feels like only yesterday she was just a little filly wanting to snuggle with her daddy at bedtime, and now she's a fully-grown mare wanting to experience the world around her.

When Spongebob was finally canceled after twenty-four seasons, she started getting interested in new kinds of programming, relative to her age. Though she is still a major NASCAR fan and does occasionally watch reruns of My Little Pony Friendship is Magic on the Hub, she's really gotten interested in teenage dramas and romantic comedies. I really find it funny actually. I remember back when she was ten, she would make a sick face whenever I merely suggested watching such a thing. Now the DVR is about 90% full of it, I guess that's part of growing up.

Believe it or not, raising a teenager is a lot harder than raising a young child, especially when she's a talking Pegasus that you're trying to keep hidden from the rest of the world. She's now more independent and wants more out of life, she's no longer interested in little toys and she's pretty much outgrown the materials for her flights. Now she's more interested what this world has to offer, like movies and video games.

I've had to step up her chores and now she's pretty much become like the house's own personal janitor. She cleans out the gutters, fixes roof leaks and she's got whole steady income coming from me alone. It's really funny that she cleans every part of the house for some extra cash, yet whenever I ask her to clean her room, she's always taking a nap and says she'll do it later (even though she can do it in ten seconds flat). I can't help but wonder if she's taking after her cartoon counterpart.

Believe it or not, she's actually a pretty patient and hard worker when she wants something. She actually managed to work up enough money to buy a Wii UP (the latest console from Nintendo) and even has a small library of games to support it. She also loves buying her favorite movies and TV shows on DVD, and occasionally likes to go out to movies now and again. We go to a theater on the far outskirts of town where nobody knows us that well. I dress her in the dog costume and play a blind citizen who needs a dog for guidance. It works every single time. I'm quite surprised at how everything has turned out. All this time I thought I had to keep her confined to house. But now, it feels like we can go anywhere and do anything. I guess two heads are better than one.

Then, just recently, Dashie asked me for something new…something that I was completely unprepared for… getting a boyfriend. I suppose she got the idea from all those shows she watches, and quite frankly, she's never known anyone else around here other than me. I had long dreaded this moment and I had no idea how to respond. On the one hand, I had no idea how I felt about my daughter going out and having romantic ties to a complete stranger. On the other, who exactly would I find to date her?

I tried explaining to her that I couldn't get her a date because she was a pony, but that didn't help. Matter of fact, it just made her feel ashamed and she flew up to her room in tears. I'm such an idiot, I should've learned the last time when we were talking about her getting a job. She was aware that being a Pegasus meant we had to do things differently, but this was romance we were talking about. Everyone longs for love at some point in his or her life, and this wasn't the first time the topic had come up. She had made it public before that she was crushing on human men, namely some of NASCAR's top drivers. I know that may sound strange given the different species and all, but whom else did she have?

I really wanted to try and ignore this, and maybe cheer her up with a game or movie marathon, but I knew it would be pointless. I could probably get her to forget about it for the rest of the day, but she'd be right back on the subject tomorrow. Besides, what kind of father would deny his own daughter the freedom other girls her age experienced?

What was I to do? Obviously I couldn't make her a profile on match.com, I would probably get kicked off for playing such a "ridicules" joke. I couldn't introduce her to anyone around the neighborhood; I could just imagine their shock. I spent about three weeks thinking about this problem. At the same time, I was also trying to fight off my fatherly bonds. I just couldn't accept the fact that my little girl was now interested in boys, and just the thought of her going off with some stranger and having little children… well it... you know. But I couldn't let my emotions get the better of me; my daughter has every right to experience love as much as I do. Now the only question was… how?

Then suddenly, I had an idea. I remembered back before I found Dashie, I had wanted a plushy of her and had even been eyeing some plushy makers on Deviant Art. I checked in on the site and thanked god they were still around. Even though the show had ended and fandom died down, there were still a number of veteran Bronies determined to keep the show's legacy alive and well.

I managed to track down one plushy maker who did really good work and at a cheap price (well cheap compared to what it was a couple years ago). I commissioned her to make me a live size plushy of the Wonderbolt, Soarin'. Dashie had seen him on the show and had somewhat of a "cartoon" crush on him, I don't know if it was because they were the same species, or her love for the Wonderbolts stemming from the show. The artist seemed somewhat surprised at such a commission, especially given the cost was over nine hundred dollars. But when I told her it was for my daughter, she happily agreed.

After about two weeks, I presented the gift to Dashie. She was quite surprised, though I couldn't tell if it was because of the quality of the qift itself, or the fact that I would even buy such a thing to meet her needs.

"Dashie, I know this isn't exactly what you wanted… and I'm sorry if I just couldn't get you the real thing. But please understand, that I love you… and even though we've been forced to do things a little differently… I just want you to be happy."

She seemed to understand and happily hugged the doll as though it was the real thing. I laughed as she held it close to her chest; I couldn't help but wonder if I would've done the same thing all those years ago. I then let her set up the kitchen table with some candles and even made a romantic dinner for her and the doll. I then put on some romantic music from my Itunes and went for a walk, giving the two of them some alone time. As I closed the door, I could hear her saying "so Soarin', tell me more about yourself." I smiled as I knocked on the door, telling her to be finished by eight and to not try any "funny stuff." Of course I knew she was more mature than that, but I just wanted to say it to give the date a more authentic feel.

As I walked, I thought to myself of how proud I was of her. Even though she truly wanted a real date with a real boy, she still understood the boundaries of being in this world and accepted my efforts to help very maturely. Even though I know this plan wouldn't last forever, it made her happy for the time being. I guess I'm a pretty darn good father after all, able to raise such a spunky cartoon pony… into the greatest daughter I could ever ask for. It actually makes it worth the next four months of debt I'll be in.