Abandoned Angel
Part 46: Naming Day
Over the next several days, Robert spent more time with Runt. He knew it would be a long process, a very long process. He would spend an hour in the morning and an hour in the afternoon with the crippled Pegasus. Every time Runt asked for “owies” Robert would give the fluffy some positive attention. Petting or positive words, no hugs yet, he figured that would be too much too fast for Runt.
Runt had a slight, but noticeable improvement from Robert’s positive reinforcement. Runt didn’t try to self harm any longer, nor did he beg for the sorry box. He would still demand “owies” from Robert and Flame, but nothing came from it. Flame was not interested in Runt, Robert assumed that Flame totally disowned him, and given the chance would indulge Runt with a hoof to the face.
Robert turned his attention to the foal. He still hadn’t told Rose or Flame that he would be giving it to Susan. The foal was much bigger now, jet black fluff with a bright blue mane and tail, and even a tiny nub for a horn. She was walking a bit more now, and was very clumsy. Robert took a seat next to Flame and Rose. Flame didn’t even run anymore when Robert came into the garage.
The foal meandered over to Robert and tried climbing up his leg. She was too tiny so he picked her up and let her prance about. He had no baby toys but she didn’t appear to need any. At this point in her development she was chirping a bit less and starting to talk. It was the generic baby fluffy babble, “miwk,” and “mummah,” and “daddeh,” and “wub,” and “huggies.” Even so, she was damn cute. Flame watched intently as she ran about on Robert’s leg.
The foal tripped and tumbled onto the blanket. Shakily she got back up, obviously fine, and took a step. When she realized Robert and Flame were staring at her she started sniffling, “babbeh haf owies! Huuuuuu!” She plopped back down on her rump and bawled for attention. Flame picked her up and set her back on Rose. Robert wondered if she was dumb as Rose or manipulative like Angel had been at that age.
Angel had gotten bigger as well. Running was completely out of the question, she could only waddle about, and slowly at that. Robert had heard how demanding a pregnant fluffy could become, but Angel had actually been fairly tolerable. She had not once demanded “sketti” nor did she refuse any of the normal dinner or even the special pregnant fluffy food Susan recommended. Maybe letting her get knocked out mellowed her out even more. Brave was constantly at her side.
Angel took to playing more of Brave’s speed. He would roll the ball to her and she would roll it back. They would stack blocks and knock them down, Brave would gather them in front of her so she didn’t have to waddle about. With her attention almost fully on Brave and her growing babies, Robert was getting left out.
Not that he minded, Robin was in desperate need for attention. Most of his time was spent with the silent fluffy. He would play ball with the fluffy or take Robin outside. Rarely did Robin play with Brave and Angel now, and if he wasn’t on Robert’s heels, he could be found with his nose and hooves pushed into the baby gate separating the garage from the house.
Robin loved his daddeh. So very much. He loved his brother Brave too. Angel, not as much, but he supposed he loved her too. He missed Bright so much. Bright was the best play buddy ever. They ran and played and it was so much fun. From the first bright time to sleepy dark time, they were together. Until mummah took him away. Now, well, it wasn’t the same. He played with Angel and Brave, but they didn’t want to play as much. Especially now that Angel was gonna be a mummah.
Robin sighed and looked through the baby gate. He knew, soon as they arrived. The scent was unmistakable. His fluffy mummah and daddeh were in there. But his mummah had no legs and couldn’t come over, and his daddeh didn’t want to come over. Robin felt sad. When he felt sad he would go to his hoomin daddeh. Daddeh loved him and played with him. Sometimes he would get upsies and his litte wings would flap away as if he was flying. He couldn’t fly, he knew, but he could pretend.
Lately Daddeh would have other hoomins over. Ewen and Soosen. They were both nice and smelled pretty. He wanted to ask if one of them would be his mummah, but he couldn’t. That made him sad again. Instead he tried to play and keep his spirits up. He especially loved going outside. The grass was so green. He would eat it, but it tasted like everything else, very bland. Chewing was hard for him, but he couldn’t ask his daddeh to fix that. He couldn’t ask for anything.
He pushed his nose and hooves as hard as he could against the baby gate, wanting so desperately to get in. There was a filly in there too! From his vantage point he couldn’t see too well, but he was positive she looked pretty. Not much later Daddeh and Ewen and Soosen went into the garage. Robin could hear them talking, most of it he couldn’t understand, but he tried his hardest to listen.
Susan was holding the foal, she was still tiny, only a week old so far. Robin craned his neck to see, but could only see three hoomin backs. He could hear Soosen talking to the fluffies.
“Does your little girl have a name yet?” Soosen asked, Robin figured she was talking to Flame and Runt.
“Nu name yet. Wose bad wif names. Fwame nu name yet.” That was his fluffy daddeh!
“Can I name her?”
“Soosen can gif babbeh name.”
Robin could see his daddeh shrug his arm thingies. “It’s up to you.”
Soosen nodded, Robin could hear her playing with the babbeh as it cooed and made happeh babbeh noises. “She’s black with bright blue… How about… Polaris? What do you think, girl? Do you like the name Polaris?”
“Babbeh am Powawis?” It was the first time Robin heard the foal talk.
“Yeah, your name is Polaris.”
“Fwame wike dat name. Powawis. Pwetty name fo pwetty babbeh.” Robin worked his mouth silently trying to pronounce the name. He skittered from the gate as the three left the garage and followed them to the kitchen. He tapped on Robert’s leg for upsies and was sitting in his daddeh’s lap, his front hooves on the table. Robin giggled to himself, he was sitting like a hoomin!
Robert gave Robin a scratching under the chin, he loved that so much. “So,” his daddeh started talking, “how long before she’s old enough?”
Take? Take who where? Robin tilted his head back looking at his daddeh. “Well, probably another week or so and she’ll be weaned. I don’t have the free time to feed her milk every few hours. So, yeah, about a week.” Powawis? Soosen was taking Powawis?
“She is so cute!” Ewen squealed, “I hope she is like Bra… er… Robin. Robin is such a sweetheart.” Ewen smiled at Robin, she was a good hoomin-mummah. Robin tapped his daddeh’s leg again to be set down. He ran back to the gate, he wanted to tell them that Soosen was going to take their babbeh. But the words never came.