The first few days of Ingrid’s newly conscious life were everything the little filly could’ve hoped for.
She had a GIGANTIC safe-room all to herself, more toys than she knew how to count, and her pretty mummah always had plenty of sweet, warm milkies to feed her with. Oh her mummah, how Ingrid loved her human mummah, Victoria made sure that she always made time for Ingrid, whether it was playing hidies for hours on the weekend, or regaling her with tales of the awful, horrible ferals she saw outside on her way to work.
Those stories might have been… slightly exaggerated, but they served the purpose of keeping Ingrid absolutely terrified of outside Fluffies an all the more determined to prove herself a good Fluffy to her mummah.
And she was, thanks to Victoria’s firm but fair hand, Ingrid was growing up to be a very polite and friendly Fluffy, always remembering her please & thanks you’s, never being too loud whenever Victoria was in the house and making good poopies in the litterbox… well, almost.
Poopies were the one issue Ingrid had, and it was hardly fair to call it her fault, since her diet consisted almost entirely of milk, her waste was often watery and dribbling. The poor Filly was constantly leaving trials of shitty droplets as she tried to waddle her stumpy legs over to her bright pink litterbox. She had gotten good at gauging her own body’s reaction and would act immediately whenever she felt her bowels churning. But there would almost always be a trail leading to the litterbox, and almost always a hysterical Ingrid pleading for her mummah to understand it wasn’t her fault.
Victoria came home one day to find a distraught Ingrid curled up in the bright pink litterbox, its glittery stairs dulled by a sludge of poopies that had dribbled out during Ingrid’s attempts to hold in her bowels. At her head, Ingrid wept and held on tightly to her favourite toy, a rabbit puppet called ‘Mistah Fwop-see’, while at her behind, a watery stain of shit that started a trail leading across the room.
“Huu, Ingwid am bad Fwuffy Mistah Fwop-see, nu can make gud-poopies wike mummah wan. Mummah gun hate Ingwid, make hew gu ousside wiv meanies an munstahs.”
“No I’m not.”
“EEK!”
Ingrid jumped as she heard Victoria’s voice, the little filly turned around to face her mummah’s anger, but instead she saw Victoria looking back at her with a sad expression on her face.
“Mummah?”
“Ingrid, I would never throw you outside like trash, not for a silly little thing like this.”
“Bu… Ingwid make bad poopies, onwy bad Fwuffies du dat.”
Victoria smiled and walked over to the litterbox sitting down beside it so she could gently stroke Ingrid’s orange mane.
“Ingrid, the fact that you’re so upset by this tells me that this was an accident, that you didn’t mean to make bad poopies. They still are bad poopies, but since you didn’t do it deliberately, mummy’s not angry with you.”
Ingrid sniffed. “Yu… yu nu angwy?”
“Not at all little one. I know this isn’t your fault, all you do is drink milk, so it’s no surprise your poopies are all soft and runny. You need to wait until you’re a big Fluffy to have big Fluffy food, then you’ll be able to hold in your poopies better.”
There was an audible pause as Ingrid processed what Victoria had told her, after a moment her face lit up – and Victoria swore she heard a microwave ding at that exact moment – as she excitedly started bouncing in place.
“Ingwid wan big Fwuffy nummies, wan make gud poopies fow mummah.”
Victoria laughed. “Hold on there jumpy-pants. You and Mr Flopsy need a bath first. THEN we’ll talk about eating.”
Ingrid shivered at the thought of a bath, but she stayed quiet, knowing mummah wouldn’t like it if she started being bad. She stayed silent as Victoria picked her up and carried her and Mr Flopsy through to the bathroom, gently cradling Ingrid with one arm whilst filling the sink with warm water with the other.
Once filled and enhanced with bubble bath, Victoria carefully placed Ingrid into the sink bottom first, keeping her head above the water-line with her free hand. The terrified little Pegasus gripped onto her rabbit toy even tighter as the first breath of water touched her Fluff and…
Nothing, just a fresh, relaxing warmth softly spreading throughout her body, Ingrid visibly relaxed as she let the soothing heat envelop her and her mummah slowly massaging the dirt and poopies out of her Fluff.
“Coo, wub wawm bathies. Fank yu mummah.”
“Anything to keep you clean dearie.”
Ingrid hummed a little song to herself as Victoria washed away the shame of her bad-poopies, all the while tickling her nose into the bubbled and giggling away. Once Ingrid was cleaned herself, she insisted on helping Victoria clean Mr Flopsy by holding his head above the water, much like Victoria had done for her.
A few minutes and one quick hair-dryer later, Ingrid and Mr Flopsy were both wrapped up in cotton soft towels, being taken through to the living room for dinner time.
“Now then…” Victoria exclaimed as she placed the pair on the soft carpet, close by to the TV. “…You two wait here while mummy gets your milk ready.”
“Mummah, Ingwid stiww wan be big Fwuffy, can hab big Fwuffy nummies pwease?”
“Hmm, I’m not sure. You don’t look like a big Fluffy to me.”
“AM BIG FWUFFY!” The irate Ingrid tried to stand up to puff her chest out, only for the swaddling towel to keep her in place. Victoria laughed and tickled Ingrid’s chin.
“Maybe not BIG nummies, but some kibble softened with milk is a good starting place.”
“Yeh pwease mummah, Ingwid wan hab big nummies, make bestesh gud poopies an be bestesh Fwuffy fow mummah an…”
DING-A-DING-A-DING
Instantly Ingrid started to sway, her eyelids drew heavy and her body collapsed down, she was asleep in seconds.
Victoria smirked as she put away the bell, the highly suggestiable Fluffy had taken to understanding that the bell meant bedtime within a couple days, now she had a Pavlovian response to the noise, falling asleep almost immediately after hearing its ring.
That wasn’t the main part of Victoria’s plan, but it would certainly make things easier for what was.
Now she just had to clean up the shit, and briefly wonder if this long-term plan was worth it.
Ingrid’s troubled with the watery poops persisted, but with the reassurance from her mummah that she wasn’t fully to blame and to keep trying to make it, she never had another melt-down.
Not long afterwards, she had her first try of big nummies, which turned out to be kibble softened with milk but she took to it like a champ and the savoury flavours added a whole new pallet to her tastebuds.
Most importantly though, the added solid matter to her diet managed to, for the most part, sort out her bowel problems. Victoria found Ingrid jumping around one day, pointing happily at her litterbox.
“Mummah, mummah, wook. Ingwid make gud poopies, nu weave bad poopies on floow.”
Victoria beamed at her little girl. “Well done Ingrid, I’m so proud of you. Tell you what, if you make it to the end of the week, that’s four bright-times away, without ANY bad poopies. Mummah will give you sketti as a reward.”
Ingrid gasped. “SKETTIS! WEAWWY?”
Victoria nodded. “That’s right, but you have to make it all four days with no accidents, do you understand?”
Ingrid nodded, still vibrating with excitement for her first taste of actual sketti, she was so overcome with joy, she almost missed the tell-tale churn of her stomach, luckily she caught herself just in time.
Over the next few days Ingrid was simultaneously too excited to stop moving and too scared to start. She wanted the be good… nay she wanted to be the best Fluffy for her mummah, she wanted to earn those skettis and taste the pride in her accomplishments. So much so that she was often toos cared to go too far from the litterbox, in case of a sudden turn in her guts.
But she made it, first one day, then the second, a third. When she awoke on the forth day she knew she could make it, just to the end of the day, just one more sleep and that was her.
She made a quick morning poop then waited for her mummah to arrive, Victoria opened the safe-room door to find Ingrid waiting patiently for her.
“Well now, someone’s excited.”
“Ingwid am gud Fwuffy, make gud poopies aww fouw bwite-times.”
“Indeed you have, I’m tempted to give you your reward now for being so good all this week. But that wouldn’t be fair now, would it.”
Ingrid fought the temptation to argue and nodded, she had made it this far, this last little day wouldn’t be a problem.
After placing Mr Flopsy on Ingrid’s back, Victoria led the two of them through to the kitchen and poured out a breakfast for Ingrid, the little filly happily nibbled away until she realised that Victoria wasn’t eating anything.
“Mummah nu hab nummies?”
“Not today hun, I have to run out and help my brother with his store, I might be gone a while. I’m sorry but he called me just before I came through to get you. I might be gone most of the day, but I promise you we’ll have plenty of time to play once I get back.
Ingrid looked dejected that her mummah would be leaving her alone on one of the few days that got to spend all of their time together, but she put on a brave face and smiled.
“Dat ok mummah, Ingwid hab Mistah Fwop-see tu pway wiv tiww den.”
“Good girl.” Victoria laughed whilst tussling Ingrid’s mane. “Now you eat up while mummy gets her coat.”
Ingrid nodded and happily munched away whilst Victoria left the kitchen. As she chewed awayon her softened kibble, Ingrid thought about the games she could play with Mr Flopsy, huggies was obviously their favourite game, but there was also Ball, or Hidies, or maybe even Blockies where Mr Flopsy would be so brave and climb atop of their block tower.
Ingrid envied how brave Mr Flopsy was, Victoria had carefully explained to her that her wings couldn’t help her fly but that didn’t stop Ingrid from dreaming she could be so high, maybe even as high as Mr Flopsy one day.
“Ingrid? I’m leaving now.”
Broken out of her train of thought, Ingrid turned around and scampered out of the kitchen, finding Victoria waiting for her in the hallway.
“Ok mummah, hab fun wiv bwudda. Ingwid be wight hewe.”
“I know you will, be good now, you hear?”
Ingrid nodded and the two shared a quick hug before Victoria turned and left, leaving Ingrid all alone. Not for the first time, and the filly was careful enough not to do anything stupid, infact once Victoria was gone, Ingrid hoisted herself back to the safe-room, where she knew nothing bad could happen to her.
The morning passed slowly for the Pegasus, she tried to liven things up by playing Ball with Mr Flopsy but she couldn’t deny it, she missed her mummah, she had been so looking forward to playing with her today that Mr Flopsy, as much as she loved him, felt like a step-down. The whole thing gave her a twisted sensation in her stomach.
No… wait a moment… this is something else.
A short fart told Ingrid everything she needed to know, this was poopies.
“Am sowwy Mistah Fwop-see, Ingwid need gu make poopies.”
Following her now ingrained instincts, Ingrid trotted over to the litterbox, lifted one leg over the bright pink rim and climbed into absolutely nothing.
Ingrid blinked. Surely this was wrong, She looked around and… this SEEMED like the right place. But there was no litterbox. Had it been moved? Peering around the room, Ingrid didn’t see anywhere obvious where it could be, in fact there didn’t seem to be any litterbox in the safe-room at all.
“Wittabox? Where am yu?”
Clenching tightly, the filly started frantically looking all around the room, in her bed, under her toys, on the windowsill where she wasn’t allowed to play without mummah. And yet there was no sign of the bed anywhere.
Her stomach lurched, not enjoying the bloated feeling given by the lack of pooping. Ingrid straied against her own body.
“Huu, pwease wait poopies, need find wittabox, need make gud poopies.”
But her poopies weren’t waiting, they were ready to come out whether she wanted them to or not.
Scared and confused, Ingrid rushed around the room once more, behind curtains, in her food bowl, even on the ceiling, the litterbox was just nowhere to be found in the room.
Unless… it wasn’t in the room anymore, Ingrid felt a cold chill run though her as she looked towards the open Safe-Room door.
“Wittabox weave safe-woom. By housie am su big an Ingwid an su smaww. Neba find wittabox nyo.”
Ingrid started to lay down and cry, but another pulse of force through her guts stopped her.
“NU! Ingwid an gud Fwuffy, onwy make gud poopies nyo, Ingwid find wittabox, an pwove tu mummah dat am gud Fwuffy an…”
PPPHHHHHHHFFFFFRRRRRTTTTTTTT
Ingrid froze with terror as she felt an unstoppable force push past her poopie place, a hot, wet solidness droppin out of her and landing in a steaming mess on the carpet.
Ingrid had made bad poopies.
“NUUUHHUUUHUUUUU! Ingwid am gud Fwuffy, wai bad poopies nu wisten, wai Ingwid nu find wittabox, wan mummah, Ingwif wan mum…”
DING-A-DING-A-DING
“Ingrid, Ingrid wake up.”
Ingrid was slowly roused from her sudden slumber by Victoria, it took the Fluffy a moment to realise where she was, and to very quickly realise where her mummah looked VERY angry.
“What’s this?” Victoria asked, pointing at the pile of poopies.
“MUMMAH! Mummah pwease wisten, Ingwid twy make gud-poopies, by wittabox weave safe-woom, Ingwid nu couwd find it, nu knyo whewe it gu. Bu Ingwid nu make gud-poopies wivout wittabox, it nu am Ingwid fauwt, pwomuse.”
Victoria looked confused at Ingrid’s account. “But Ingrid, the litterbox is right there.”
Ingrid looked and, sure enough, a bright pink litterbox with sparkly stars was sitting exactly where it had always been, it even still had the good poopie Ingrid did that morning before breakfast laying on top.
“Bu… Ingwid nu see wittabox, wittabox nu dewe.”
“It can’t move Ingrid, it’s just a box, it doesn’t have any legs or anything.”
“Bu Ingwid awways make gud-poopies, awways knyo whewe wittabox is. It nu dewe.”
Victoria sighed. “Look, you just had an accident, it happens. This is my fault for putting too much faith in you, I should’ve realised you were too young for that responsibility.”
Ingrid’s eyes filled with tears as she heard the disappointment in her mummah’s voice. “Mummah nu wub Ingwif nu mowe?”
“No, of course I still love you sweetie. I just need to take things easier on you. Maybe I’ll leave the sketti until you’re a little bit older and can control yourself better.”
Victoria solemnly stood up, letting the weight of her words wash over Ingrid.
“Nu… sketti?”
“Not today I’m afraid, but maybe another time. You just wait here while mummy gets something to clean this, then we’ll see what happens.”
Victoria left the room, leaving Ingrid to stew in the harsh reality of her own mistake, the stench nearly choking her. Bursting into tears, Ingrid grabbed hold of Mr Flopsy and held her as tight as she could while she wept.
“Ingwid am bad Fwuffy Mistah Fwop-see, make bad-poopies. Wai Ingwid nu see wittabox? Wait make bad poopies, wan be gud Fwuffy.”
Ingrid kept crying even after Victoria cleaned up the mess, not that it mattered, she could still smell that choking stench long after it was gone.
The stench of her failure.
