ronaldo is like a trusty old golden retriever. he is the apple of your eye. he used to go everywhere with you but the years have caught up with him. where he used to bound alongside you on a walk, he now spends most of his time laying on the rug in front of the fire, farting himself awake and soiling the floor whenever the doorbell startles him. just as you think his time is done and you start to load the shotgun, he brings his favourite toy up to you and places it in your lap and waits for a head stroke. you wipe a tear from your eye as you remove the cartridges for another day.