Steve finds himself in a familiar situation. This story features a foal gifted to me by Gal-with-pastels . Hope you folks enjoy. @Gal-with-pastels
A hot July morning. The sun is shining. Your crops are looking great. Nothing can ruin thi- “BIGGEST POOPIES!”
… Damnit rassberry.
While sunbathing in your yard your breeder fluffy rassberry goes into labor.
You’ve been through this five times already so you know what to do.
Her special friend Moses immediately runs behind her ready as ever to help rassberry give their new foals lickey cleanies. Your pet fluffy frosting watches from the sidelines excitededly talking about having more babbehs to play with. Her adopted brother blackberry chattering about how much he’s going to love his new bwuddas and Sissies.
Your derped foal that you creatively named derpy didn’t care much. He ran around playing with a butterfly. Chasing it around the yard. You wish you could find someone who’d adopt him but most people don’t want a fluffy that’s even more retarded than the average turd.
Anyways back to the dilemma at hand.
All together rassberry delivered 4 foals. Not a big litter but hey. Ya can’t win everytime… Well… That’s what you thought anyways.
“Holy shit.”
You mutter to yourself looking at the foal in your hands. Not only an alicorn but a multi colored alicorn. Kind of a darkish red on his head and torso but a light tan on his bottom.
He looks like one of those gummy peach ring candies.
“I’ll name you gummy!”
You say handing the newborn to rassberry to be cleaned and fed.
Not that the other foals were bad mind you. A pink female pegasus, a green male unicorn, and a bright orange male unicorn.
The squirm and peep on the ground waiting for their turn at their mummahs milkie places.
As per usual you make sure rassberry and Moses understand to wait the standard two weeks before conceiving more foals. At first you didn’t think they’d listen but surprisingly they understood.
Rassberry I’m sure appreciates the break in between pregnancies.
As rassberry finishes feeding the last of her new brood she coos. Then nods off. Moses carefully puts his newborn foals on his back and carries them inside to the safety of their new saferoom. You carry the sleeping rassberry in. Honestly this was perfect timing as you’d just sold the last foal of her previous litter.
~three days later~
Given that you have no other foals to worry about you’ve given this litter (especially gummy) your full attention. They’re starting to learn to crawl. They shuffle ever so slightly forward on there front hooves. Not realizing they can use the back two yet.
You e named the other three. The pink girl is Strawberry, the green boy is named Celery, and the orange boy you decide to name tangerine.
Rassberry sings to her babbehs as they clammer for their sweet milkies.
“Mummah wub babbehs! Aww widdwe babbehs! Gun be bestest babbehs! Wike bwuddas an sissies!”
You don’t know how you feel about her using the term bestest, but as long as she’s calling all of them bestest you guess it doesn’t matter.
~ 4 days later ~
They opened their eyes today. Orange was the first to open them. All I heard was.
“Mummah?.. WUB!”
Then rassberry start cooing about loving her babbehs again. Strangely the pink one despite opening her eyes didn’t say a word. Oh well. You guess all foals handle it differently.
Gummy is letting the fact he’s naturally smarter show. Already using multiple words in a sentence.
“Wub mummah! Miwkies Tim?”
Pretty impressive for a little guy that still can just barely stand up without shaking.
~5 days later~
Well… You may have fucked up.
While the other foals are already running and playing in the nursery the pink foal has yet to even say her first word. She can walk yes but the only time you see any hustle is if rassberry dares to get up and move away from her.
You already feared what was going on but you had it confirmed today. You caught rassberry feeding her by herself for the third time that morning.
“Mummah wub babbeh. Sensitib widdwe babbeh. Dwink wots ob miwkies. Mummah hav a bunch.”
She sings.
Fuck. You knew you’d eventually have to let rassberry rest but you didn’t realize that you were over breeding her this fast. She seemed perfectly healthy at her last vet checkup. You decide to call up Sandra. She shows up after. The shelter closes for the day.
While the three colts play Huggie tag with Moses you walk up to rassberry. The fat little filly waddles up to you smiling and peeping rapidly. You can’t help but see greaseball when you look down at her. But unlike that little fuck atleast she’s still small and cute.
She puts her front hoof on your shoe and rapidly peeps as if asking for something. Then she goes silent. Her smile fades. As Sandra walks into the room she immediately turns tail and books it back to rassberry.
Trying her best to hide in her mother’s soft fluff.
“Teehee! It am Otay stwabewwy. Sandy am gud hooman. Keep bwuddas an sissies big an Stwong!”
Rassberry says cheerily.
She holds strawberry up. Presenting her to Sandra.
Strawberry still was obviously nervous. If it wasn’t for the fact her mummah just took her to the litterbox you figure she’d be shitting in fear right now.
“It’s okay little lady. I’m just here to make sure you’re okay.”
Sandra says in a vain attempt to assure strawberry.
The minute Sandra grabs strawberry the freakout begins. She starts flailing violently and peeping as fast and as loud as her little lungs can manage.
Rassberry looks visibly unnerved by this.
“SISSY!?!”
Tangerine yells.
“Sissy HUWTIES!?! Nee Huggies!?!”
Celery adds.
At first it seems as if Moses is gonna say something but after realizing it was just Sandra holding his spawn he calmed down.
He walks over and looks up at Sandra.
“Huuhuu. Why widdwe babbeh scawedies? It am jus Daddeh steebs Speciaw fwen?”
He asks.
Sandra looks down.
“It’s okay Moses. Some babies just get a little scared of new people. Now I’m gonna take her out of here for just a minute then I’m going to bring her back safe and sound.”
Before even allowing a response Sandra walks out of the room and motions for you to follow. You close the door behind you. Sandra brought a foal observation box (cardboard box with edges raised high enough foals can’t escape.) With her from the shelter. She places the frantic strawberry in it who immediately runs to a corner and hides her face. Still peeping for mummah to rescue her.
“Babe I don’t even have to examine her to see she has SBS. The fact alone that she’s not talking and not even showing any semblance of a mane is proof enough. Not to mention she doesn’t have a single tooth in her mouth. She should have started teething days ago. They should be atleast poking through her gums by now.”
Sandra says.
“I warned you about over breeding but noOoOo. No one ever listens to Sandra the damn fluffy expert.”
She says mockingly
You look down at the frightened tub of lard.
" So what are the chances of someone wanting her?"
You ask.
“Babe I’m gonna be real. Outside of a few fringe cases the only people who want SBS foals are abusers. She’ll be tortured to death. As much as I hate to say it you may be better off putting her down.”
She says in a somber tone.
“Ya know normally I’d agree with ya babe but… I don’t know. Where it’s Rassberries foal I don’t wanna just kill it.”
You say.
“Look I know it sucks. I hate having to put these guys down when they come in the shelter. But you have to understand. It has no future. Even in fluffy terms. It physically cannot mate. It’ll have to live on foal formula for it’s entire life. If it reaches adulthood there’ll be a good chance that no other fluffy will want to play with it. More than likely it’ll be a target for extreme bullying. Anyone that would want it either knows nothing about SBS foals or is an abuser. Putting it out of it’s misery now is by far the most humane thing to do.”
As she speaks you know she’s right.
“Sigh you’re right. But to make it easier on Rassberry I’ll let her stay a little longer. Atleast as long as the other foals. That way rassberry will think she got a new home. Just like her other babies.”
You plead.
“Yeah that sounds like a good idea. Atleast Rassberry can live happily thinking she’s alive and in a loving home. But that doesn’t fix the main issue. Steve you’re gonna have to let rassberry rest for Atleast a year. Otherwise you’re going to have more foals like this. Then eventually they’ll just start coming out all dead.”
She’s right.
“Guess that means I’ll need to get another fluffy. She had a multicolored alicorn in this litter too so I know that’s the one I’m keeping. I just have to find a decent breeding mare.”
You say. As you talk you eye strawberry who’s already pissed herself in fear.
“Alright. Well I guess it’s time to take you back to your mom.”
You say picking her up. She squirms and peeps for just a minute before realizing that it’s you that has her. Upon this realization she calms down. She smiles and suckles on your fingertip. Must be calming. Guess it’s like a human baby with a pacifier.
You take her back into the nursery.
“Alright Rassberry. Here’s your baby back.”
You say.
The minute you let strawberry go she takes off like a rocket towards her mother. Immediately latching onto her tit greedily gulping the milk down. Must be her way to destress. No wonder she’s so fat.
This … Bothers you. It reminds you of greaseball.
“Mummah wub hew widdwe sensitib babbeh. Dwink aww da miwkies ou wan stwabewwy!”
Rassberry says happily.
UUuugh. Any other foal you’d just snap it’s neck quickly and throw it in the trash can but of course you have to be attached to your Fluffies.
~ 2 weeks later~
And here we are. The day Rassberry and Moses hate. Though they’re excited about getting to keep Gummy they still get sad seeing their other foals go.
I’ve had Celery and Tangerine sold for a week now. Their owners came today to pick them up.
“Oh you should see him honey. He’s so small. Orange and green. Guess that’s why they named him tangerine. Meh we’ll worry about getting him fixed later. Whats the worste that could happen?”
Tangerines new owner said over the phone carrying him out.
“Daww aren’t you precious! Just wait till I get you home. You’ve got a saferoom and toys and-”
The lady that bought celery coos as she takes him. Wonder in his little eyes as she promises him all that.
Then you see Sandra’s car pull up.
You’re stomach turns a bit as you know it’s time.
You go to fetch strawberry. Before you walk in the room you hear the Fluffies chattering.
“Otay babbeh… Sniffle ou be bestest fwuffy foh Nyu Mummah ow Daddeh. Onwy make gud poopiessniffle an-an-an neba eba wun way fwom homesie. Huuhuu mummah wub sensitib widdwe babbeh.”
She says hugging strawberry.
She peeps loudly. She understands that something’s going on but you know she has no idea she’s about to leave her mother. Jesus Rassberry just stab me in the heart.
You walk in.
“Rassberry. It’s time.”
She begrudgingly hands you Strawberry. Closing her eyes to not watch you take her away.
“Mummah saddies? Nee Huggies?”
Gummy says walking up to rassberry.
Strawberry stays calm as you take her out. Peeping and nuzzling your hand like a cat. It’s only when you open the door to Sandra’s van when she realizes something bad wrong.
“I brought a box to put her in.”
Sandra says motioning to a box with a blanket and a full baby bottle inside.
“Figured might as well make her as comfortable as possible. It’s full of foal formula.”
You scratch Rassberries head as you place her in the box. She chirps rapidly. You close the car door and walk inside.
You are Sandra. You just made it back to your business. A small fluffy shelter/store. Your boyfriend just gave you a defective foal that sadly needs put down. You decide that injection is the best way. That way she’ll just think she’s falling asleep.
You place the box on the counter and start pulling out the forms for euthanasia.
Suddenly you hear the bell ring indicating someone just walked in.
“Hi welcome to great wheels o-… Oh it’s you Bruno.”
In walked Bruno. Probably the cruelest man you know when it comes to Fluffies.
“Just stopping by seeing if you have any problem shitrats.”
He says with a smile.
“No none this time. They’ve all pretty much behaved.”
You say not wanting to put any of your current Fluffies through that.
Suddenly Strawberry starts peeping from the box.
Must have heard Bruno’s voice and thinks it’s steve.
Bruno looks in the box.
“Well shit. Is that a genuine SBS foal? How much?”
He asks pulling out his wallet.
“Not for sale. The owner was adamant about me putting it down humanely.”
You respond
“Hmm… I’ll donate two thousand dollars to the shelter right now.”
He says. Normally you wouldn’t believe anyone with a claim like that but you know he actually has it.
“I… I don’t know.”
You say.
“Three thousand?”
You look down at the foal happily suckling the bottle.
That money would reeeeaaaaally come in handy. That could keep you stocked on kibble and formula for months.
“Sigh… Fine… But this… It never happened.”
You say still filling out the form to make it look official. Bruno leaves for a minute then comes back with an envelope. You don’t bother counting it as you know it’s all there.
“Good doing business with ya Sandy. You know how to get a hold of me if you have any smarties.”
He says laughing as he walks out.
You feel icky.
Your name is Bruno. And holy fuck did you just score!
gud bye strawberry hope you die quickly.
Don’t bet on it. Lol