Bill had woken up at 4 AM, trundled around in the kitchen getting everything ready. A few cold ham and cheese sandwiches? Check. A giant Thermos filled with coffee? Yup. A six pack of beer from the fridge? You know it. He was going on a fishing trip this morning and after packing up everything he’d go to his daughter’s room for the last few things.
Setting an open-air travel kennel down in front of the fluffy mummah and her foals, he’d gently begin to scoop each into the cage. It wouldn’t scare them because it had an open view of the outside world (albeit behind bars), and only the mummah, Sugar, managed to open her eyes. Her fur was thick and white, mane and tail a soft blue. “Wha? Daddeh?’ She asked sleepily, eyes only half-open as he placed her foals beside her. They had started talking now, one orange and white filly (Creamsicle), a green and purple colt (Franky), and the bestest filly which had the same colors as her mother (Sweetie). The mummah didn’t fuss because her foals her returned to suckling at her, and she soon went back to sleep.
Humming to himself and scooping up the travel kennel, careful not to wake his daughter or cause too much motion to wake the fluffies, he carried them out to his SUV where he’d already loaded up his cooler and fishing equipment. Setting them carefully in the backseat, he’d sidle in through the driver’s side and begin the short trip to his favorite fishing hole. The place was called Culver’s Pond, fringed with lots of reeds and resplendent with bullfrogs croaking and turtles slipping into the murky waters as Bill made his way up to the dock. There wouldn’t be anyone around here. Once they caught sight of his SUV they’d turn around and go to find a different fishing hole: People wanted a sense of privacy and relaxation as they fished and there were plenty of options. First he carried up his cooler, rod, and tacklebox. Then he went back for the fluffies still snoozing away in the car.
As he set the fluffies down on the dock, Sugar had finally stirred back awake. Blinking in confusion as Bill turned on his camping lantern, she looked to him and their surroundings. “Whew am Sugah ‘n babbehs? Dis nu am housie.” She puffed out her cheeks innocently, giving a protesting look.
“Don’t you worry, Sugar. We’re just on a little trip. Say, lets see Franky for a sec.” His daughter had named all of these dipshits. Opening the travel kennel door, he’d pat a hand inside and have to tug Franky off of his mother’s teat, a dribble of milk dripping from his mouth and hanging at his chin. His eyes fluttered open, and he gave a shy smile.
“Hewwo daddeh. Coo….wub yew…” The colt hugged against his hand as Bill began to slip the tiniest floatation devices up against his front legs. It was crazy how many products Hasbio put out, and these had a far more innocent use than he was about to employ. Bill gave the fluffy’s pudgy little belly a little scritch-scratch, causing him to giggle and kick his back legs around. “Tickew! Su tickewy!” Sugar tamped a hoof against the kennel bars. “Cawefuh daddeh! He am omwy widdew babbeh!”
Bill looking to her, snagging up the hook already attached to his fishing line. Franky got a good look at it glint in the lantern light, giggled at how shiny it was. “Pwetty fing!” He exclaimed right before Bill plunged the barbed thing straight into it’s belly. The colt screeched, flailed, squirted watery shit from it’s ass in duress.
“HEWWWPPP! MUMMAH HUWTIES! NEE’ HUGGIES!” Franky called out for his mother who was now rattling against the travel kennel, trying to bite at the bars to get out.
“Wry huwt babbeh daddeh!? He am gud babbeh! He wub daddeh!” The mare thumped her hooves against the bars and Bill paid her no mind for the moment, casting the line (and fluffy) out. Franky smacked the water hard, bobbed down for a moment, came floating back up because of the inflatables on his front legs.
“Su cowd! Wawa cowd! Scawy! Mummah! Sabe babbeh!” To her credit, Sugar was trying. It was rare to see a fluffy mother try this hard to come to her foal’s defense, but she was chewing on the cage bars with so much force that her gums began to bleed a little bit. Resorted to smacking against it with her hooves.
“Mummah comin’ babbeh! Mummah sabe yew!” By now the two other talkie-babbehs had woken up. “Wewh am bwuddah?” Creamsicle asked, but Sweetie was less interested in that and had latched onto a teat after pushing her sister out of the way.
Bill looked over to Sugar. “You remember how I told you not to have babies? That it’d be a really bad idea?” Glanced back over to Franky as he bobbed on the water.
Sugar pleaded with him again. “Bu’ am gud mummah! Bestest mummah! Pwease wet babbeh gu!”
That fantasy was interrupted as he felt a large amount of tension on the line. He immediately went spinning on the reel, tugging back and grunting with concentration. The line jigged back and fourth, and it took a lot to ignore Sugar’s screaming from the side. After a large amount of wrestling around with the fish on the line, he would eventually pull it up.
A largemouth bass with the drowned body of Franky still stuffed into it’s mouth, back legs and hooves poking out and now hanging limply.
(This but a fluffy hanging out)
“NUUU! MUNSTAH! GIB BABBEH ‘FO HUGGIES N WUB TU MAKE BETTAH!” Sugar had her face pressed up against the bars, squishing it into herself, tears falling down in rapid succession.
“Damn nice! Let met just…” He took out his camera, took a quick photo of the catch. This was one of those things he just had to show off to a buddy. Unthreading the hook from the bass and letting it keep it’s quarry stuffed in it’s mouth, he threw the fish and fluffy back to the water.
“Alright! Creamsicle, your turn ‘lil lady.” His hand went back into the kennel, snatched the filly up.
“Mummah! Scawy! Munstah daddeh!” She was a little harder to navigate the little floaties onto but he managed. They were relatively small but damn was she squirming around.
“And here we go.” The hook went right through her little belly just as it had for her brother, the man holding her out over the water so he wasn’t shit on. Creamsicle bucked and squalled against the hook, looking pleadingly to her mother who could only watch helplessly as she was cast out with a great deal of force. Bill watched as the foal sailed through the air…and snagged right into a cluster of reeds.
“Babbeh huwties! Wet babbeh gu!” Creamsicle screamed against the reeds. Tiny, but you could hear her all the way over on the dock given the otherwise serene nature of the place.
“Overshot that. Lemme see if I can…” He tried to reel her in but only got her stuck at the surface level of the water. The plip-plapping of her limbs against the water and the rustling of the reeds caught the attention of a snapping turtle who lunged out from the pond bank and caught her in it’s crushing grasp, dragging her down into the water. Bill cut the line before the massive reptile snapped his rod, watching with some amusement as a floatie bobbed up to the water. It was the only thing that remained.
“Pain in my ass.” He had to lay a new line, whistling softly to himself as Sugar curled her body defensively around Sweetie. Being a bestest babbeh meant thinking nothing bad could happen to her. Sweetie hadn’t given the slightest bit of a care as her siblings were murdered and her mother was freaking out. The only thing she cared about was the milk being greedily suckled from her mother. Finally getting everything right, he went back into the travel kennel for the last one.
“NU! NU! AM BESTEST! PWEASE NU!” In her desperation, Sugar tried to bite his hand. Honestly you’d likely get a larger amount of sensation from an upset puppy nipping at him. Ripping Sweetie away from her mummah’s teat, Bill would cradle her in one hand and begin fitting the floaties on.
“Daddeh wub bestest Swee’ie babbeh? Teehee! Am daddeh’s bestest babbeh!” Again, no hint that she thought she was in danger. Being pampered and given the most attention by her mother had proven to give her an incredibly warped sense of priorities and awareness of a situation. Looking to her belly, so full of milk he was afraid that it’d pop open like a balloon, he decided on a new tact for her.
“Yup. Say, what’s this?” He dangled a fish hook in front of her eyes, the filly giving a soft ‘oooohhh!“ before he guided the barbed bit of metal up and through her throat. Would it kill her immediately? Of course not, but it sure shut her up. Reduced to a series of gargles and senseless bleats, Sweetie was cast out to the center of the pond with much more care than her sister had been allowed.
Bill watched as Sweetie splished against the water and failed to call out to her mother, though at least that suffering was short lived. He began feeling tension against the line though nothing had gotten attached to the hook. Sweetie’s little white body was pulled under the water one moment, popped up the next. “MUUUUAAAA!” She called out, definitely trying to call out for Sugar who was pleading for her bestest to be returned. A small pool of blood began to spread against the surface of the water. For one amazing moment Bill could see what had caused this: The most massive alligator gar he’d personally ever witnessed. Snapping and gnawing at the fluffy’s bottom half, it chewed away portions of it at a time without actually getting hooked. Eventually he had to reel in what remained of Sweetie: A head, two fully intact front limbs still attached with floatation devices, a spinal column with a few shreds of flesh and nerves still connected to it. Unthreading the hook from the plucked apart foal’s throat, he’d mash what remained of the body against the cage.
“Think having babies is fun now? When we get home you’re going to tell my daughter all your babies went to a nice new home. And if I hear differently…” Bill pushed himself to look directly into the cage after flicking Sweetie’s mangled corpse into the water, glaring at Sugar who was now sitting in a puddle of her own piss and shaking with fright. “We’re coming back out here.”
Suffice it to say, Sugar didn’t say a word about what happened on their fishing trip. Though her mummah noticed she kept crying almost constantly. Well of course anyone would cry after having to give their babies away, but at least they were in a nice new home.
