Every day I enjoy stepping outside into my backyard and taking in the beautiful scenery. It’s on a lovely location next to a small lake with wildlife gathering around it at all hours. A collection of trees surround the lake, below them are various plants of all shapes and sizes. Animals such as groundhogs and turtles will occasionally emerge from their homes to look for food or whatever else they do. Many times I’ve found myself getting lost in thought while staring at the sun rays reflecting off the water.
One of those lovely moments came to a sudden stop when I heard an awful noise coming from somewhere near the lake. It was a raspy high-pitched sound that sounded like a squeaky toy getting strangled. I would have thought something was getting strangled if it wasn’t for the clear stops in between another set of that horrific sound. It had been going on for about five minutes. Animals would get into all kinds of situations with nature all the time and I wasn’t unfamiliar with unfortunate circumstances like an animal getting mauled or suffering from disease.
Four more minutes had passed and I decided that I was done with hearing the noise and made my way towards it. There were no signs of any animal being attacked or eaten. Sometimes you could find feathers scattered in an area or pieces of the animal lying about. None of that was around. The lack of carcasses told me no disease-ridden animals had been around either. But that sound kept going.
“….ghuuuu……ghuu ghuuu g-g-ghuuuuu”
Something about that noise sounded oddly familiar. I moved closer in its direction and that’s when I realized what the source of the noise was.
“Ghuuu Ghuu Ghuuuuuuuughh”
It was a fluffy pony living under a bush. These things were an oddity that Hasbio first released in 1999 back when they were called Fluffy Originals (now known as Nano Fluffy-Ponies). This particular one was a Standard Fluffy Pony, by far the most popular of the fluffy pony releases that Hasbio has put out. They’re famous for being the size of a small dog or cat while having the ability to speak. I personally never really liked the things. Something about the way they spoke and lived as walking commercials rubbed me the wrong way. The weird noise it was making sounded like the annoying “huu-huu” cries they’re notorious for.
The fluffy living inside the bush was a mare. With a giant hole in her side that had maggots crawling outside of it. She smelled so bad that I could feel my gag reflex kicking in as soon as the stench entered my nostrils.
“H-h-hwewwo nith……mithta….” You could see the few teeth she had left rotting away. Her malnourished face gave off the look of some kind of diseased sheep more than the usual pig-horse appearance they were known for. You would occasionally hear stories of runaway mares on a quest to have babies. Few of them ever got past their yards in the suburbs or country. The urban fluffies had more success and even then they tended to live miserable lives.
“Ummm…hello fluffy,” I said to the mare. She looked at me through bloodshot eyes, one of which had a milky look in them.
“…Nith mithta….be nyu….d-d-dhaddehghh?”
God I felt my pity for this thing increase the more it spoke.
“I-I don’t know.” I looked at the miserable little pile of wildflowers in front of her. Poor little idiot probably thought this was a three-course meal. Fluffies often ate their food based on what looked pretty as opposed to what was practical.
“Do you happen to have a special friend by any chance?”
The mare nodded weakly. Her head would shake every time she did that.
“Thethiaw fwiend….g-g-ghu dewe…” Her head nudged in the direction of another group of bushes nearby. He was probably alive to have recently given her food.
“I’ll wait for him to come just so I can catch up with what’s going on. We don’t ever get fluffies out here.”
”Otay. Fluffy wan nith mithta to b-b-be nyu daddeghh”
I would have stroked her back to create a sense of safety but that stench was unbearable. In fact, she appeared to be pregnant. Her stomach was bloated to the point where her little stubby legs were lifted off the ground. I looked over at something that caught my eye and noticed a deformed foal carcass beside her. The thing had two enlarged eyes and a stubby face that squished its nose and mouth together. The mouth was stuck open as if the foal were still on its last gasp of life. I don’t even know if the mare noticed.
She was remarkably quiet for a fluffy and I think a lot of that had to do with her current state. We just sat where we were and took in the ambience of nature while waiting for the special friend. I wondered to myself what led her to ending up out here a little more.
“Hey—um—is there any reason why you’re out here? Fluffies aren’t very common out in this area and those that make it don’t often live long.” I made sure to speak very slowly as I said this because something told me she struggled to really comprehend much of anything.
”Fhwuffy W-w-whan babb….babbehgs. Meanie….meanie mummagh thay nu.” Poor thing looked like it was painful just to speak. I still couldn’t help but roll my eyes at her admission. Runaway fluffs from the standards were common enough for stories of them to be passed around. Our neighborhood was probably the worst place for them to go but it looks like one of them really had the baby itch. I looked at her neck to see if she’d been collared and it didn’t seem to be the case. She also didn’t refer to herself by name. I had so many questions and she probably lacked the capacity to answer most of them.
“Your, uh, babies. Are you going to have more?”
The mare nodded. “Fwuffy……a-am thoon mummagh. G-g-ghon ghav b-b-b-besthtetht babbeghs.”
She must have been a “soon-mummah” enough times for it to wear her body to this point.
“Speciaw fwiend bwing nummies for soon mummah!’ A goofy sounding voice called out. I turned and nearly fell backwards from the sudden appearance of a white stallion that was so thin his cheeks hung like deflated balloons. In his mouth were a few wildflowers. I looked at them and back to the mare. This was her daily diet. Some small groups of wildflowers that fluffies ate because they looked “pretty.” Typical behavior from runaways who were pampered with fluffy food and spaghetti.
The stallion dropped the flowers from his mouth and stared at me for a little too long.
“You okay?” I asked him.
The stallion looked at his mate and then puffed his cheeks at me.
”Wha you doin wif speciaw fwiend! No nuwt speciaw fwiend! Am soon mummah an gon habe pwetty babbehs!”
I took a sigh and folded my legs in front of the defiant little melted marshmallow.
“I’m asking your special friend here what she’s doing and how she got here. I’m not here to hurt you guys or anything.”
The puffed cheeks went back to their normal size and the stallion’s little tail began to swish from side to side.
”Oh dat am gud. Timmy tink dat nice mistah was munstah and want tu huwt speciaw fwiend.”
Timmy. He was definitely a former domestic. But his defensive stance gave me the impression of an urban fluffy used to humans messing with them in the alleys. I decided to ask a little more.
”How many ‘monsters’ have you come across?”
”Many munstahs at owd nestie huwt Timmy and famiwy. Take babbehs and gib dem aww foweba sweepies!”
”Ghuuu ghu gh-ghghuuuuu”
There came that awful rasping sound from the mare again.
“Well you aren’t much better living out here and living off of those,” I said while pointing at the wildflowers beside the stallion.
He looked angrily again at me and stamped his left hoof. “Dese am bestest nummies fow soon-mummah speciaw fwiend! Timmy wook hawd fow nummies!”
”Don’t get so defensive. I’m just trying to give you advice.” Then again, attempting to explain things to fluffies probably didn’t result in much.
I looked back at the mare and knew that she wasn’t going to last the rest of the week. Sure I could take her home and put her through whatever medical care the vets could provide them but she would still end up dying. Having babies clearly meant a lot to her, judging by her recent attempt despite her body’s crippling state. Removing that ability to do so might just break her. But there was a part of me that felt like I should at least attempt to help. A part of me that often led to me making decisions that weren’t always the best. Usually downright awful.
“How about this,” I got up from where I was sitting and brushed off my pants, “I’m going to take you two back to my place and see if I can help you out.”
The mare’s ears perked up and Timmy beamed at me like he had just seen me for the first time.
“Weawwy? Nice mistah be nyu daddeh!?”
”Well. I don’t really know about that”
His ears fell back again.
”No offense but your special friend smells awful and I don’t know if she’s carrying any kind of disease. I’ll let you guys live in a corner of my yard and offer help when I can.”
”T-t-tank yu nith mithta…” the mare says as her sunken eyes appear to sink even deeper.
”Just wait right here while I get a few things.”
”Otay! Timmy an speciaw fwiend be wight hewe!” He sat beside his mate while sitting upright like an attentive dog.
“Okay thanks!” I ran back into my house and grabbed a few things. A mask came on first so I didn’t have to inhale that stench any further. Next came rubber gloves to avoid any diseases those two had. Fluffies and their rear ends were capable of spreading all kinds of diseases that they were somehow immune to for the most part. Last thing I did before moving was to shoot a text to my friend, Danielle, who was also a vet. She was a sweet person but a terrible messenger. I figured it would be another week before I heard from her. The fluffies might be dead by then but at least I tried.
I finally returned and the stallion was standing in the exact same position he had made when I left. Was he just holding it the entire time?
”Let’s get your special friend,” I said.
“pwease be cawefuw,” Timmy pleaded.
I reached down and lifted him into one of my arms.
“Teehee wub upsies!’
My eyes reflexively rolled at the stupid enthusiasm. I slowly bent down and felt myself wince as I felt the mare’s sick, squishy body, and bloated body pressed against my hand and arm.
“Pweath nu upthies. Am bad fo t-t-t-tummehg ba-ba-babbeghs.”
“Staying out here is bad for your ‘tummy babies.’”
This was my real first impression of any fluffy pony breed and it was enough for me to realize that I was never going to voluntarily own one of these things. The entire walk I had the mare whining about how being too high up was bad for her fetuses that would probably turn out to be deformed or stillborns anyway. Then you had Timmy babbling his head off and singing obnoxious songs off-key about how “daddeh gib bestest upsies! Timmy and speciaw fwiend gon habe biggest happies ebah!” Over and over and over. These things were the living embodiment of what some marketing executive probably thought children were like.
“Thank God we’re finally here,” I loudly sighed as we ended up in my backyard.
“Wow! Nice mistah have pwettiest house fo fwuffies!’ Timmy exclaimed.
“It’s actually for humans but I’m letting you guys stay here and see if I can help out you and your special friend.”
It just hit me that Timmy never mentioned the dead foal. I let it slide for now while I figured out what I would be doing after this point.
My home was a one-story ranch with a lower level that was more or less a basement. It had two sections. One was where the living space was. It was filled with furniture, a tv, and some other things. That isn’t where the fluffies would be staying. I put them in the other half where storage usually went. The stone surface and darker lighting probably wouldn’t help their nerves but I still had no idea what I was bringing. My only hope was that Danielle would actually pay attention to her surroundings and get back to me.