Flipper swam to the side of his tank, slapping his tail against the glass.
Flipper was a seafluffy, a small round creature covered in oily blue fur and with a seal-like flipper at the end of every limb. Hence the very creative name.
He swam to the other side of the tank, slapping his tail against the glass again.
Before, when he was in the store, he lived in a very big, if a little crowded, tank with his friends and family. He had more friends than he could count and a large school of siblings and cousins and relatives with relations he couldn’t put a name to.
Flipper swished his tail - once, twice, three times - before turning and slapping it against the glass of the tank.
He had watched the humans through the glass of the big tank, saw his friends joyfully netted out and put in transport tubs to go to their new homes. Sometimes two or three friends would go together, sometimes whole families! Flipper was overjoyed to finally be chosen by a young woman, he practically jumped out of the net to get into the tub. It would finally be his turn to get the love and attention he craved!
He swam to the other side of his forever home, striking his tail in the same spot he always did. The spot was obvious, the only two places in the tank not covered in a thick layer of algae.
He thought about the pretty rocks on the bottom of the big tank, some bright and patterned, some sparkly, some clear and faceted. They were endless, spreading out so far in every direction he would be surprised by the side of the tank when he ran into it.
His front fin skimmed the filthy grey sand on the bottom as he turned to start swimming the other direction.
He thought about the cave in the back of the big tank, how the tunnels in the faux rock seemed to go on forever, how he could lose himself in them for hours while he drifted through.
He passed his only decor for the hundredth time that day, a smooth rock covered in a thick green goo. He faintly remembered it being black once.
He thought about the beach he could pull himself up onto at the top of the store tank, where the food bowls were kept and the heat lamps shone down on soft sand. Ideal for napping, where he spent many a day chatting with the others.
Flipper paused his swimming, looking up at the lid atop the tank. A sturdy, dark plastic thing that held the light bar. It never turned off, never gave him any warmth, never changed. The lid was sturdy, meant to keep aquatic creatures safely contained in their habitats.
Flipper turned and slapped his tail against the side of the tank, splashing a small amount of water up the side as he turned to swim back across his home.
So Zoochosis is a thing. With how regularly abused and neglected fluffies are, plus how neglected fish are as pets IRL, this was the natural end point of that thought.
Partially inspired by Sea Fluffies Require Upkeep by Ace.
