Joey didn't say a word to Mr. Peabody when he took her and picked her up from school the next day. When they got home, she went straight to her room to do her homework. Later, she heard a knock at her door. She didn't respond. Mr. Peabody came in, slowly.

"Josephine, could you help me make dinner?"

Joey got up and walked past him into the kitchen. He followed. As they started preparing the food, he said, "Tomorrow, let's go on a father- daughter outing. We can go to the museum or the theater or-"

"You're not my father."

Mr. Peabody gaped, shocked. "Josephine, of course I'm your father. I adopted you."

"No, Mr. Peabody. You're Mr. Peabody, not my dad," she said, bitterly.

Mr. Peabody looked down. He knew she was hurt. He turned off the stove. "Josephine, come here," he said, solemnly. He walked into the living room, and she followed. He sat on the couch and patted the spot beside him. Joey sat down.

The canine started to speak, but he then quieted, as if he was struggling to find the words he wanted to say.

"You should invent a time machine so you can go back in time and not have met me." Joey turned her head away, trying not to cry. "You don't love me."

"Josephine…" she heard Mr. Peabody's voice say, sadly. "I do love you very, very much. I apologize for hurting you."

"Why didn't you say you loved me?" the teenage girl asked, looking at her father with teary eyes.

Mr. Peabody sighed. "I have never really told you much about my past."

"No, you haven't."

"I was always…a bit unusual. I was highly intelligent and odd, and I grew up in an adoption center. No one would adopt me. I was shunned by others." His voice was choked up, which made Joey look at him. She could see he was in a great deal of emotional pain.

"I was alone all my life and decided to devote myself to the pursuit of knowledge, but…it still wasn't enough to fill the emptiness inside. I wanted so badly to be close to someone, ANYONE, but it never happened. I was too different."

Joey looked down. She had never seen her father so vulnerable before. He never talked about his puppyhood. She had no idea that he had had it so rough.

He looked at her. His voice became more cheerful. "But, then, I fostered you, and my life changed for the better."

"That still doesn't answer why you didn't say you loved me," she said, softly, no longer angry.

"It's just…strange to me to be called…that. Indeed, I am your father, but, it doesn't…feel right to me to be called that name."

Joey looked away. Mr. Peabody asked, "Why is it so important to you to call me that?"

"Because you're my father, and calling you Mr. Peabody is so formal. It's like you want to distance yourself from me."

At that moment, Mr. Peabody lifted his head like he just had a breakthrough. "Josephine, you might be on to something."

"What?"

"All my life, I have pushed others away as a result of myself being alone. I have been distant, as you say. It has been my way to be in control of my emotions and how I interact with others. It's been my way…to attempt to not be hurt."

A tear fell down Joey's cheek. "I'm sorry I was so mean to you. I had no idea…"

"Oh, it's alright. It's all in the past." He kissed her forehead. "I will try not to be so cold. It will take time, but please give me a chance."

"Okay, Dad," Joey said, hugging him. He cringed, but it wasn't from his injury.