A lot of people from the city will drive out into the countryside to dump their unwanted fluffies over farm fences, or even toss them into the ditch from moving cars. The fluffies that survive will then make their way to the nearest farmhouse.
These put-upon farmers are often kind but strapped for cash, so no fluffy stays without earning their keep, if they get to stay at all.
Chickenyard Fluffies are in charge of keeping an eye out and sounding an alarm if they see any munstahs about. It’s not an easy job- and not just because they’re likely to get eaten. The chickens will bully you too, if you don’t fit in with the flock. Luckily for Duke and Henrietta, they were welcomed right in.
It’s not the life they’d dreamed of as foals, but their smelly new wingy-friends have lots of cute peepy babbehs to play with, and a nice warm housie to nest in during the dark time. These two are more fortunate than most.
I really like the beauty of hugbox and pictures like this always proves my point. The world of fluffies is so cruel and brutal to these innocent creatures, yet, if said suffering did not exist then hugbox would lose all meaning. Like a small oasis in the middle of fluffy hell, finding these small ones in happy situations is so… cathartic.
