Mark looked out across the shelter’s main room with satisfaction. All the fluffies were breakfasting peacefully and it was time to feed Daisy, the shelter’s milk-mare. Daisy had been brought in a couple of months before, heavily pregnant and severely malnourished. None of her foals had survived more than a few hours, which had left her bereft, but fortunately she’d been willing to suckle the shelter’s orphans and strays, and had done such a good job that she’d been put on weekly hormone shots to keep her lactating.
The tan-and-yellow earthie mare saw Mark approaching with her dish and starting squealing with delight.
“Gud mownin Mawk! Aww babbehs happeh! Mawk gib fetta an owive oiw fow make gud miwkies!”
As a voluntary milk-mare, Daisy didn’t need force-feeding the necessary nutrients, and a daily breakfast of feta cheese drizzled with olive oil gave her all the calcium and fats she needed. Mark gave her a cod-liver-oil capsule as well for Vitamin D. She wasn’t bright even by fluffy standards, but it had only taken two yucky experiences for her to learn to swallow the capsules without trying to chew them.
For the last few minutes, there had been a commotion in the reception area, the sound of a very unhappy fluffy who wanted everybody else to know it. Mark sighed and walked out into reception.
Big Harry was holding a white pegasus with a rainbow mane down on the examination table, while Seema, the shelter vet, was giving it the once over.
“NU WAN POOPEH YIKKEH SHEWTAH!”, the fluffy screamed. “FEWICITEH WAN HOUSEH AN TOYSEHS AN SKETTEHS AN TEEVEE AN HUGGEHS!”
Harry sighed. “Tim the street-sweeper brought her in just now. He’s gone 'cos he couldn’t take the racket. Tim said this one was wandering round the bus station yelling at people for food. She’d already been kicked once, but she wasn’t hurt.”
Seema looked up from the fluffy’s rear end. “She’s a mare, she’s already given birth to at least one litter, and she’s in the early stages of pregnancy.”
Mark thought out loud. “With that coat she’s got to be designer. Is she chipped?”
Seema frowned. “That was the first thing I looked for. You can’t see it under the fluff, but there’s a scab on the back of her neck where somebody cut a chip out of her. Maybe she was stolen and got away from the thief, or something scared the thief and he dumped her.”
She looked at the fluffy. “Felicity, do you have a daddy or mummy?”
“Of cowse Fewicity hab daddeh. Fewicity nu know where daddeh am, but daddeh gon cum get Fewicity. Fewicity nu wan wive in poopeh shewtah wib poopeh fwuffehs.”
Seema glared at Felicity. “Felicity, that’s a bad thing to say. There aren’t any poopie fluffies.”
Felicity shouted “Nuuuuu! Fewicity hate poopeh fwuffehs an Fewicity hatechu! Ou am dummeh poopeh hooman!”
Harry slammed his hand down on the table right next to Felicity, not striking her but giving her a shock. “Don’t you ever say that to Seema or any other black or brown person again! You’re a very bad fluffy!”
Seema stepped away from the table. “Well, I’m glad I’ve finished. No other problems. You can deal with her now.” She walked back towards her office.
Harry didn’t seem very happy either. A massive, wrinkled, shaven-headed guy in a polo shirt and chinos, he looked like a superannuated football hooligan, but he wasn’t that kind of skinhead, and loathed what he contemptuously called “nazi bonehead pricks”.
“Brilliant, a bitch-mare and an effin racist. You really wanna give her a fortnight?” Shelter policy said that no fluffy was to be put down purely because of behavioural problems until they’d spent two weeks under the shelter’s regime without showing any sign of rehabilitation.
“I’ll put her photo out on social media and to the paper”, Mark said. “Hopefully she was stolen and her owner will want her back. I can’t see anybody dumping a fluffy with those colours, even if she’s an evil bitch. Maybe she’s just hormonal and she’ll calm down.”
Mark flicked the reception intercom on. “Sarge, come to reception please. New fluffy.”
A couple of minutes later Sarge waddled out of the main space. The shelter’s official Smarty Friend had been brought in with the rest of his herd when the derelict garage they used as winter quarters had been demolished. When he’d proven himself to be genuinely smart, and conscientious about the welfare of his herd, he’d been made a permanent resident and top fluffy. His green, yellow and brown blotchy coat had given him his name, and one of the old ladies had knitted him a woolen jacket with three chevrons in the pattern, which he was greatly proud of.
Mark put Felicity down on the floor. “Sarge, this is Felicity. She might take a while to settle in.”
“Hewwo Fewicity”, Sarge said. “Fwuffy am Sawge. Fwuffy am smawteh. Dis am gud pwace if Fewicity am gud fwuffeh an du wat smawteh seh.”
Felicity raised her hackles at him. “Ou nu am smawteh! Ou am dummeh poopeh fwuffeh! Poopeh fwuffeh nebbah am smawteh!”
Sarge snarled and shouted “Nu am poopeh fwuffeh! Nu-wun am poopeh fwuffeh! Ou am dummeh meaneh bad fwuffeh.”
Felicity raised a front hoof and punched him in the nose. Without flinching, Sarge smacked her around the head hard enough to knock her off her feet. Sarge had had it drummed into him that he wasn’t allowed to hit any fluffies unless they were about to do something life-threateningly stupid, or they hit him first. He did seem quite satisfied whenever someone hit him first, though.
Felicity started crying. “Meaneh fwuffeh huwt Fewicity. Pwease gib meaneh fwuffeh huwties.”
Mark was unmoved. “You were asking for that.”
Sarge coldly pulled Felicity to her feet. “Now cum wib smarteh.” He led her into the main room.
By the afternoon, Mark, Harry, Sarge, and then the afternoon volunteer Dot, had had to break up six fluffy fights, all started by Felicity getting angry and mouthing off at someone or thumping them. She’d even managed to start a fight with the all-loving Daisy, by kicking a talky foal away from her when it came up asking for huggies, and then insulting Daisy for giving milk to “poopeh babbehs”. Finally, Mark gave her a vigorous sorry-sticking, and decided to put her in the isolated Sorry Room for the whole night to see if that helped her attitude.
