Simon cared for you like no other, being your only parent after the death of his dearest wife only a few months after you were born. He went through a rough patch; the only thing keeping him grounded was you, his beloved child. He swore on his life to not turn out like his father, and he would keep that promise.

Watching you grow up was quite an experience, as Simon would put it. You had your moments, but he would move mountains for you.

The only thing he wouldn’t do, was get a pet. Too much responsibility, he said. Even after your begs and whines, he stood his ground.

Years went by, and it’s your birthday. Your father brings you out to the living room, a half opened box on the couch that’s…moving?

“Go on. Open it.”

He urges you, pushing you slightly forward with just a hint of a smirk on his lips. As you approached the box, you lifted the cardboard flaps to reveal a small, brown German shepherd, excitedly hopping onto the edge of the box, its tail hitting the sides of the box with quiet thumps.

“Happy birthday.”