Three Gold Stars

Three gold stars go to Michael, who of his own volition procured a new board, some wood screws, and an electric drill, put them in his truck, drove to the barn, and fixed the fence in Dino's dry lot so he could go outside all day again. He couldn't stand to see his soon-to-be-adopted-four-legged-son cooped up in a stall bored out of his little pony brain for a moment longer. He did this while wearing a t-shirt that said "Rodeo Stud".

This is the living definition of a perfect man. I'm keeping him, and I'm not sharing.