Cwinicaw Depwession
by Breadboxer
Originally posted on the booru by me
Link to art from this story
Things haven’t been great lately. You lost your job a few months back and have been stuck in a rut, looking for new work. You’re still surprised when your therapist writes you a rather unorthodox prescription.
“A fluffy?”
“There’s been many studies on the benefits of animal therapy,” the therapist offers while pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I know fluffies aren’t technically animals, but having something to talk to regularly can be a great help.”
Besides, you’re allergic to dogs anyways.
There aren’t any specially trained fluffies for this purpose, but the office recommends a pet shop to you. They work specifically with the biotoys to ensure their foals have gentle and loving dispositions as they raise them to an adoptable age.
They present to you a pastel purple earthie mare with an olive green mane. She’s cute and chipper, not more than a few weeks old. You decide to name her Eggplant.
“Yay! Eggpwant wuv nyu name!” she chirps. Her siblings cheer over her adoption, some of them blinking tears from their eyes and huuhuuing how they’ll miss “pwetty sissy”.
You pick up everything else you might need to take care of the fluffy; you need a little help since you’ve never owned one of these little fuzzballs before. Health insurance won’t cover the cost of all this stuff, but it’s not too expensive. Fluffies are way cheaper these days than they were at their introduction to the market. You get a litterbox, some Fluffy Chow, and a pet bed, figuring you can repurpose the guest room at your apartment into a safe room.
Eggplant is extremely enthusiastic when you also pick her out some wooden toy blocks and a ball. The sorry stick you keep hidden from her, hoping you won’t need to use it.
Once you get home your new fluffy can barely contain herself and dashes from room to room, the frantic pitter-pattering of her soft hooves on the hardwood echoing as she goes. It’s kind of cute. It takes her a full hour to calm down.
“Fank yu fow nyu home Daddeh, an’ bwockies, an’ baww, an’ wittewbox, an’ namesies, an’-”
“Heh, I get the picture, Eggplant. Are you hungry? How about some ‘sketties’ to celebrate your brand new home?”
Her big blue eyes light up like the Red Sox just won the World Series.
“Sketti nummies?! Yes Daddeh, Eggpwant wan num sketties, pwease!”
Eggplant’s politeness is a good sign, compared to what you’ve seen from ferals on the street, so you start boiling water for a nice pot of spaghetti to share with the fluffy. She watches you intently, but makes sure to stay out of your way so you don’t trip over her on accident. Her behavior is pretty impressive; you even forget she’s there for a while until she pipes up again.
“Daddeh, what am ‘cwinicaw depwession’?”
Oh, she must have overheard that while in the store. It might have been funny under any other circumstances, hearing the biotoy try to wrap its head around the term. You stir the pasta, thinking of an easy way to explain it to her.
“It just means Daddy’s sad.”
Suddenly you feel fluffy hooves doing their best to wrap around your leg. Eggplant is giving you hugs as best she can.
“Nuu! Eggpwant nu wan! Huggies make bettew… Why am sad?”
“…I don’t know. Sometimes people get sad and they don’t know why.”
“Huggies hewp wowstest heawt huwties?”
“Sometimes ‘huggies’ aren’t enough, Eggplant.”
It takes her a few solid minutes to process this and work it through her tiny fluffy brain. While she thinks about it you drain the pasta through a colander, add the heated up marinara and get a little bowl for her. You put it down at her feet and she shuffles excitedly, but doesn’t start eating yet. Instead she looks up at you.
“Wiww sketties make bettew? When Eggpwant haf heawt huwties, an’ mummah and daddeh an’ bwuddas an’ sissies nu am hewe fow huggies…”
She looked sad for a moment, thinking of her family back at the store, then nudges the bowl of pasta across the linoleum floor towards you with a smile.
“…Fwuffy tink of bestest sketties!”
“Don’t you want the sketties?”
“Yus! Eggpwant nevew haf sketties befowe! Smeww yummy… but thinkie-pwace sketties am enuff fow heawt happies! Daddeh need mowe dan Eggpwant. Eggpwant aweady happies wif nyu home an’ nyu Daddeh!”
Now that’s downright adorable. You know how much these things worship the almighty spaghetti, yet this little fluffy you’ve owned for half a day is willing to give it up for you to make you happy.
Maybe this therapy fluffy thing wasn’t such a dumb idea after all.
You kneel down to the fluffy’s level and scoop her up in a hug. Her fur and mane are soft and you’re surprised how much it feels like holding a stuffed animal. Eggplant’s little hooves squeeze around you in a fluffy-sized hug and you have to admit to yourself, you feel a little bit better.
“Wuv Daddeh!”