A Backwoods Encounter
Chapter 3
After the screaming bonfire in my corral, there were very few other incidents of outright defiance. Some of the larger, stronger fluffies learned to do small hauling chores for me and in exchange I gave them food which they took to their mates and foals. It was an alright system.
I began to think I could tolerate the herd fairly easily. Remember, distance and tolerance go hand in hand. The more I was able to interact with these things, the more I learned their personalities. And I don’t necessarily mean their individual personalities. I mean the general behavior of your average fluffy and what you can usually bet money on from any fluffy.
What really grated on me was the fucking favoritism among their offspring. Foals who were brand new to the world and learning quickly, being taught that some are better than others. “Poopie babbehs” being cast out and ostracized. As I worked my land, I tried to just block it out and tell myself that their behavior wasn’t my problem so long as they followed the rules.
For well over a month my nerves were ground and scraped hearing a foal beg and plead for affection from its mother or seeing a not brightly colored fluffy being bullied and abused by the rest of the herd. It wasn’t my problem. Until my wife decided to make it her problem… fuckin’ women, man…
She had been having short interactions with the fluffies, the briefness allowing her to have nothing but affection for them. The entirety of the herd called her “nice wady”. And SHE… was the one who came fully unglued when a dark green foal with a brown mane was kicked in the face by its mother, so that the blue sibling could feed until it was full.
Fuck.
“Babe, that’s just how they are. They’re not real animals, they’re programmed!”
“I don’t care Ian! It’s going to stop right fucking now!” “Elizabeth wait… oh fuck me.”
My darling sweet beloved wife flew through the open barn like a whirlwind of righteous indignation.
“HEY! What the fuck are you doing?!” She screamed at the orange dam with a bright blue foal nursing between its legs.
“hewwo nice wady! Mumma am feeding bestest babbeh!” “And what about this one???” She motioned to the dark green one who had resigned himself to curling up and sucking its hoof as it cried quietly.
“Siwwy wady, dat poopie babbeh! Miwkies am fo bestest babbehs!” My wife took a slow deep breath as she knelt down and lightly poked the blue foal to get its attention. "And you? Do you think your brother is “poopie”?
The blue foal stanced itself out and blew a raspberry at its sibling. “Dummeh bwuddah am stuppee! Nee gu way! Nu wuv poopie bwuddah”
“Oh shit…” I muttered as I heard the foal’s response. This was about to get really fucking ugly.
My wife quickly scooped up the abandoned foal and started back toward the house without another word.
“Liiiiz” “Fuck off Ian. I’m keeping it” “Liz no! We talked about this!” She turned and looked at me with that piercing blue gaze. Same look I got if I had allowed the kids to do something dangerous. Fucking “momma bear” mode. It’s a lost argument at that point boys.
“Ugh fine… Fine! But it’s on you!” I told her. “Fine… And I don’t want to see those two ever again.” She gestured toward the dam and her foal who barely took notice of the missing member of their family.
I walked back over to the fluffies and asked “Where’s your special friend?” “Nu knu mistuh gwimm… Speciaw fwen wun away when yu kiwwed smawty.”
“Hmm… What’s your name?” “Mawigowd!” she said happily. I rarely had this much interaction with an indiviual of the herd and I think she got excited. Tough shit, cause that’s about to get crushed.
“Well marigold, you’re a bad momma. My wife took your other baby and you and your baby have to leave. NOW!”
“Wuh?! buh… buh… whew we go?” “Don’t care. Get the fuck off my land and do not come back.”
I looked out toward the rest of the dams and foals who were observing the interaction, “And that goes for the rest of you as well! If I see any babies being abandoned or bullied after today, you leave and that baby gets to stay. I tried to ignore it but I’ve had enough!”
I felt the soft pummeling against my shins as I looked down at marigold pleading with me. “Pwease mistuh grimm! Nu wan weave fawm!!! Scawy in da twees!” “Yeah well, you should’ve thought about that before you became a bad mom. Now go!”
“NUUUUHUHUHUHHUHUUUUUUUU!!!” I rolled my eyes as the orange fluffy wailed and sobbed at my feet. The foal on the other hand decided to take this news a different way… “Dummeh mistuh!!! Bestest babbeh give you sowwy poopies!!!” Both of my eyebrows raised high in surprised amusement and the dam looked in horror but she was too slow to stop him. She knew the sentence this foal just bought himself.
“Babbeh nu!” the fluffy quickly dove over her foal, covering him from my view and catching the last half of his fecal blast on herself. “Pwease mitsuh gwimm! No huwt babbeh! Onwy wittwe babbeh! He nu knu any bettew!!!”
I rolled my head and shoulders as I drew the revolver from my gun belt. I made a big show of twirling it in my hand a few times, popping out the cylinder, rolling it back and forth, giving it a harsh spin and slamming it back in place before finally cocking back the hammer to stare down the dam with a death glare.
“Run marigold…”
“Wuh?” BANG! I placed a shot in the ground next to her and her foal. “I SAID RUN GODDAMMIT! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” BANG!
She trembled and stumbled, nearly trampling her foal as they both scrambled to get away. I continued to place shots near her wherever I needed to in order to keep her heading for the tree line.
“GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE YOU WORTHLESS SHIT!!!” Bang! Bang! Bang!
When she was finally out of sight, I looked around at the rest of the herd watching me wide eyed in terror.
“… The fuck are you all looking at?! Mind your business!” I barked as I holstered the weapon and headed back towards my house.
And there’s my wife… on the couch… with a freshly bathed ball of dark green fuzz in her lap. God fucking dammit.
“Are you really going to keep that thing?” “Yes, and if you call it a thing one more time, you’re gonna get it mister.”
Later that evening I could hear coyotes going off in celebration. I’d bet money they found that hateful orange bitch and her little blue bastard. Fuck em.