This is an ongoing story:
Gone Fishin’
Sugar Fucks Up
Sugar REALLY Fucks Up
Bill’s Garden Fiasco
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
August was nearing it’s end and Bill’s daughter wanted only one thing: A backyard campout with her father. It’d always seemed somewhat a silly tradition to him but she sure seemed to love it so he wouldn’t disagree. As night started pushing the sun away and it got at least slightly cooler out he began to stock the firepit with some good firewood. It was often used to burn trash but would serve convenient whenever these nights came around. Amy helped by bringing out several camping chairs from the garage and even her fluffy Caramel got in on the action by holding the handle of a lantern and carefully guiding it over to where their little party would take place.
There were two tents. One for him, one for them. He’d set up his own tent in no time and then go to try and help Amy with hers but she shooed him away, obviously wanting to do the task herself. Bill wasn’t one to argue with someone trying to claim their own independence: It was a good trait to have. It took her far longer to put up the tent than he did but finally she’d finished, going to plop down in one of the chairs she’d brought up. Bill had gotten the fire started by now, Caramel giving a small ‘ooooo!’ as the flames rushed up against the kindling.
“Mind yourself, Caramel.” Bill told her firmly as she began to approach, the fluffy getting how serious he was and immediately snapping back. She was a very good listener.
“Daaaad. I’m starving. Can we eat now?” Amy asked as her friend returned to her side, one hand idly patting her head.
Bill nodded and went to the he’d wheeled out while she was fussing about the tent. Hotdogs and soda. Was there a need for anything else? Well. The fixings for smores too but that could wait. The man handed over a package of wieners and a roasting fork to his daughter, getting the same out for himself and kicking back to watch flames and get a hotdog far too blackened for any normal palette. As soon as it was too his liking he’d plop it onto a paper plate and begin roasting another, though this one was cooked to a just a soft brown. Taking it from the flames he blew on it and began cutting it up with his pocket knife.
“Here, Caramel.” Bill told the fluffy who had been patiently sitting by. She knew better than to beg for food. Better than most dogs at this point, he reckoned. The mare gave a small coo and marched up to begin eating up slices of hotdog from his hand as he offered them.
“Wub yew! Dank yew!” She said with an indomitable charm. The last time there had been a campout in the backyard, Sugar was still alive and had thrown a fit because she wanted skettis.
“Spin.” He dangled a bit of hotdog overhead and whirled it around slightly. Giggling, Caramel got on her hindlegs and stumbled in circles. Finally, the piece of food dropped into her mouth.
“Dad, you tell me all the time not to play with her at the dinner table!” Amy protested.
Bill shrugged. “Don’t see a table.” He opinioned, biting into his own charred hotdog after Caramel had been fed.
So they ate too much. Laughed their asses off over silly things. Listened to the radio, the crickets, got bit by mosquitos. It went off like you would figure, and soon they would feel too tired to continue. Bill put out the fire with dirt shoveled out from the garden after getting a hug and a kiss from Amy (along with a cheek lick from Caramel), the two going to their own tent. He went to his, clambering in and settling under a comforter brought from inside the house. It wouldn’t take him long before he was out like a light. Bill loved his sleep.
Meanwhile, Amy and Caramel would stay up a little longer in their tent.
“Mummah! Wook!” Caramel presented her with a very pretty flower she’d found earlier. She had been waiting for the perfect time to give it to her. Amy seemed delighted, holding it close.
“Thank you, Caramel! Wanna sing?” The two loved singing together. Whenever the radio was on, Amy followed along to whichever song was on and Caramel followed suit…as best as she could. She mostly contributed as a dancer and general hypeman.
So they sang loudly. Off-key. Rummaged around in the tent, mostly because Caramel was boogying down in there. Bill somehow didn’t wake up but that might be because years of working with tools had fucked his hearing up.
“Alright, Caramel. It’s time for sleep. I’ll leave this lantern on for you in case you get scared. If you need to potty, I’ll leave the door open too.” They had both been absolutely bombed with mosquito spray so that wasn’t a huge concern. Though they both reeked to high heaven of the chemicals.
“Teehee…otay mummah. Wub yew.” Caramel gave her mummah’s cheek a nuzzle before being tucked into her little fluffy-sized sleeping bag, which yes was apparently a product. This one was bright pink with Cinnamummah’s face on it. The fluffy felt snug as a bug and all sorts of sleepies.
They both fell asleep but sometime during the night, Caramel felt the need to go potty. Poking out of her sleeping bag and inching over to the tent flap, she peered outside. The moon was out so there was plenty of light but it was still kind of scary for her. Hopping out and beginning to wander away from the tents and further into the backyard, she had to find the bestest potty spot. As she did, there was rustling from a bush.
“M-Munstah!?” She asked with concern in her voice but soon three different stallions had popped out from their leafy coverage. The mare gave a sigh of relief.
“Wew am nummies? Hewd hungwy ‘fo bestest nummies.” Said the apparent leader of the stallions, nostrils flaring out a bit as he stamped a hoof to the ground.
“Dey am mummah ‘n daddehs nummies. Nu ‘fo hewdsie. Sowwy.” The mare apologized, looking down to the ground. She really did feel bad about not having anything to give but she knew her place in the world.
“Dummeh mawe nu gib nummies!?” The meanie smarty stallion challenged, approaching her. Fanning in around her, the other two were cutting off any avenues of escape.
“Cawamel am sowwy!” She said again, but a hoof knocked her down. Squealing with pain, she could see two of the meanest eyes she’d ever seen hover over her, reflecting the light of the moon in them.
“Yew am ‘fo enfies naow. Heh heh. Bestest enfies.” The stallion told her, mounting her from behind. Knocking a hoof against her back. He bent forward and grabbed a mouthful of her mane as he shoved his no-no stick in her, Caramel screeching until he finally tore out some of her fur. Her face was shoved down to the ground.
“Shu’up dummeh! Yew am enfie-toy!” The other two gave her sorry-hoofs until he had finished with her and then took their own turns. This happened for what seemed like forever.
Finally they finished with her, leaving her there in a puddle of her own peepees and their nu-nu wawa. She felt really bad. The worst ever. All she could do was hide her face against the grass and give small peeps as if she were a foal again.
Before the morning sun had even come up, Bill heard Amy calling from outside the tent.
“Caramel! Caraaammeeelll!” He heard her yell over and over again. Rousing himself from the comforter he was under, he stumbled out the tent. Immediately had a sinking feeling in his stomach.
“Dad! I can’t find Caramel!” Amy said, looking panicked and desperate. Bill had images flash in his brain. Torn apart by dogs? Drowned in a mud puddle? Saw her own reflection and got so surprised she fell over from a heart attack? These things were pathetic. Anything could do them in.
“Go on to the house, Amy. Get me some coffee started. I’ll find her.” He looked to his daughter with a stern approach that sent her begrudgingly off to get the coffee.
“Caramel! Caramel, get on over here girl!” He called around as he searched the backyard. Looked in her favorite places to play in. It was quite the sprawl but it wouldn’t take him too long to find her. A little crumpled mass of brown fur, sprawled hooves, congealing fluids. The man rushed on over to her. Was she still alive?
Yes. Yes she was still alive. Breathing, giving small peeps, hiccupping and crying. Taking off his shirt, he’d swaddle the fluffy in it and scoop her up. Cradle her against his shoulder.
“C’mon, girl.” Was all he said as he went off to the house. Amy was standing by the door on his return, watching him as he approached. To say she had freaked out was an understatement.
“Dad! DAD! Caramel! What happened!? Oh my God!” The girl tried to reach for her beloved fluffy but Bill held her away.
“Go call your grandma and wait for her. Caramel’s going to be fine. Go on.” He waited for the girl to go and do as he said but she stamped her foot down with frustration.
“Dad! Stop treating me like a baby! Caramel’s hurt! Please tell me what happened!?” She asked, voice rising higher and higher as she continued. Bill looked to her. Tell her what had happened? No. He couldn’t do that. This wasn’t something a kid should see. Have to try and understand.
“The more you keep needlin’ me is time spent not helping her. Now go on and do as I said!” He said, sounding far more gruff than intended. Amy looked down to the floor but finally relented, wandering off. He knew after making the phone call to her grandmother she’d be waiting glumly in the driveway. Maybe she’d hate him for awhile. It would have to be.
Once Amy was out of the house, Bill got her into the bathroom. Set her gently down in the tub. He turned the water on warm, not too hot, but the feeling of it against her bruised and battered body still sent the fluffy into screaming hysterics.
“Buwny-huwties! Nu mowe! Cawamel am sowwy! SOWWY!” She sobbed, and Bill tried to ignore it for the moment. Washed away the filth and nastiness from her fur with a washrag.
“Nu touch peepee pwace! Huwties! Daddeh pwease nu!” The mare tried to push against him as he had to clean that area as well. Got a look at the damage which had been done. His blood pressure rose. Finally he scooped the fluffy from the bath, wrapping a towel around her until she was dry.
Bill brought her out to the living room. Scooted the fluffy’s little basket bed out and placed her onto it. What the Hell was he to do in a situation like this? He didn’t know.
“Daddeh. Yew am angwy wif Cawamel?” She asked, looking up to him pitifully. Bill noticed that his fingers had tensed up and formed fists.
“Not a whit, Caramel. Don’t you worry too much. I’ll make you all better.” He gave her his best smile. Went to turn on the television, even flipping it to FluffTV which was usually a no-go in this household as he felt it to be quite asinine.
“…Daddeh stiww wub Cawamel? Sowwy…nu wan bad huggies…” She sniffled from her place on the cushioned basket. Oh, he knew she didn’t. Nobody would want what had happened to her.
“I know, sweetheart. I still love you. Watch TV for awhile. I’ve got some work to do out in the garage.”
