How did the Cocker Spaniel feel about him finding his dad's Ray Ban glasses?

Choices:
A. happy
B. not enough information
C. indifferent
D. mad
indifferent
My father lost something valuable to him that didn’t resurface for years after his death.
My dad was a World War II veteran and an officer. All officers were issued the classic Ray Ban sunglasses with the wraparound wire rims. He wore them almost all the time for the next thirty years after the War, then one day in the 1970’s, he misplaced them. He was heartbroken, crestfallen, that he lost something he cherished from his military service—the symbolic military issue Bausch & Lombs coveted by every officer who served.
I wanted so badly to be my dad’s Hero. I overturned every piece of furniture in the house, rifled every dresser drawer, every nook and crannie, underneath beds, the garage, the yard, you name it. I was on a Mission. I wanted to walk up to him and say, beaming, Here Dad! I found your sunglasses! But alas, after several weeks, no success. I was crushed by my own failure.
He passed away, and his possessions were divided among our family.
Fast forward to a few years ago. My Cocker Spaniel was sniffing around in the bathroom, and a box fell out of the bathroom closet with a crash. I went to investigate and chide the dog…when the first thing I saw on the bathroom floor next to the overturned box was the yellowed leather case, and his wire rim sunglasses. I picked it up, held it in my hand, and I, a grown man, immediately burst into tears, sobbing. Suddenly, I was nineteen again. My wife asked what was the matter, and I told her the whole story.
I figured after his passing, his sunglasses—which evidently were in the house the whole time—were probably tossed into one of many anonymous cardboard boxes, and I happened to be the one who carried off the box containing them.
So here Dad! I found your sunglasses! I love you! Am I still your hero?