“Mummah wuv babbehs… Babbehs wuv mummah!” You wake up to the sounds of soft singing, honking vroom vroom munstahs, and chirping babbehs. Your eyes are still puffy from crying the night before, but it doesn’t impede your vision.
It’s bright out, which makes the alleyway seem much less scary than the night before. You yawn and stretch, forcing yourself up. The mummah fluffy wasn’t sitting that far from you, letting her babbehs suckle her teats as she sings to them.
“Hewwo, mummah fwuffy!" You greet, not knowing her name. She doesn’t answer, flicking her tail. “Goo’ mownin’!"
You stare at her babbehs, drinking her milk without a care in the world. Seeing them up close, you realize that they’re really cute! The bigger one was a deep blue color with the beginnings of a white mane, although it was stained with grime from the alley. The younger was a lighter shade of brown, like the chocolate you were never allowed to eat.
The mummah notices you staring and grunts, shifting the suckling babbehs away from view. You couldn’t help but pout.
“‘ou hawe pwetty babbehs.” You try to break the ice. Daddeh usually started talking to people by saying something nice.
And it seemed like this worked. The mummah’s ears flick, and she looks incredibly smug as she looks down at her kids. “Mummah has bestest babbeh’s evah!”
The older one removes himself from her teat, using her body to pull himself higher as he smiles at her with the brightest eyes.
“Babbeh has bestest mummah!” He gloats. “Wuv mummah!” He doesn’t quite dance, but taps his little hooves on her in excitement. Mummah’s smug look deepens, picking him up and giving a quick nuzzle. Then, he’s set on the ground and bolts off like a bullet. You can’t help but smile, and the mummah does the same.
“Sta’ cwose!” She reminds.
“So, wha’ am ‘ou name?” You ask. She looks back at you confused, squinting.
“Fwuffy no have name. Am Fwuffy, wike ‘ou.” Now it’s your turn to be confused. You raise a hoof to yourself, placing it directly on your chest.
“Fwuffy am Supwiwse!” You say proudly. “Daddeh give namesies many bwight tiwmes ago.”
“Hooman daddeh?” You nod. “And hooman daddeh weft ‘ou?”
“Nu, he—” You pause. Daddeh didn’t leave you out here, but didn’t he leave? He closed the door, and you couldn’t get in the house when that barkie monster chased you. Does that make him a bad daddeh? But he gives you huggies, and love, and sketties!
“‘Ound like fwuffy have bad daddeh.” Her tone was factual, grabbing her chirpy babbeh by the scruff, and placing them delicately on her back. The babbeh chirps at the movement, but settles in quickly within the plush fur.
You stomp your hoof. “Nu haf bad daddeh!”
“‘Ou haf bad daddeh.” She repeats. “Good mummahs and daddehs no wose babbehs. Wike me! Am good mummah!” The mummah trots forward, and her chirpie babbeh quickly joins her side. You do too, following at a slightly slower pace.
She goes to a nearby kicked trashcan, and starts rummaging. She ignores moldy food, and rips open a bag, nearly swallowing the plastic. She must have found something edible, because she takes big bites of something inside. Your stomach churns at the unappetizing meal, but stand your ground.
“Daddeh nu wose Supwiwe! Supwiwe wost Daddeh!”
The mummah grunts, not saying anything around her mouthful of ‘food.’ Your tail flickers in annoyance. “‘Ou see, Supwiwse fwin Daddeh and show fwuffy!”
The other fluffy laughs, actually laughs, at your declaration. This sets off her chirpy babbeh, who giggles with mirth like it was the funniest thing he’s ever heard— though you’re sure that the babbeh wasn’t paying attention in the slightest. So you stand there, angry and embarrassed, as two fluffies laugh at you.
“Aww hooman daddeh’s bad. Aww hoomans bad.” The mummah says when she manages to control herself. It doesn’t stop the few giggles that slip past her lips. “Hoomans give biggest huwties to fwuffies. Nu wike fwuffies. ‘Ou am dummeh fwuffy if no kno’ tha’.”
You scowl, stomping your hoofs again. “Nu twu’! Nu twu’!”
“Yus twu’!” She snaps. She gets in your face, pushing you back with one hoof. You fall back, landing back on your rump with a soft ‘owie’. “Hoomans give speshul fwiend foeveah sweepies! Fwuffy saw! Hoomans am bad!”
The chirpie on her back givs a few pitiful squeaks at the sudden movement, but she stares hard at you. You advert her gaze, finding the floor awfully interesting. Then she huffs, standing tall above you. “Nao go awa’! Fwuffy say ‘ou weave next bwite time! Tha’ this bwite time!”
“B-but!” You don’t want to go. You really don’t. The outside of the alley was big, and loud, and you’ve only explored the world with your daddeh and your harness. If you leave, you’re alone, and you don’t want to be!
You start chewing at the fluff around your hooves again, loose clumps filling your mouth. The other fluffy looks unsympathetic, a stark contrast from last night.
“If ‘ou come wif Suwpwiwe, Suwpwise show ‘ou!” You try to reason with the mare, forcing yourself to stand back up. “Daddeh am good daddeh! Daddeh on teebee, wubs fwuffies! Give nu huwties!”
“NU!” She shouts. “Aww Fwuffy need am babbehs! Nu daddeh’s, nu speshul fwiend, nu hewd! No’ go AWAY! Or gif you sowwy hoofsies!”
You sniffle, but get up and run away. You turn down a few unfamiliar streets, only stopping when you find a dumpster behind a restaurant that smells like sketties. You lie under the heavy metal, softly whimpering to yourself and covering your eyes, wishing your Daddeh was with you.
Kane takes a deep breath. Holds it for three, then lets it out. He repeats the steps a few times, staring at the dog infront of him. It was a stray, that much was obvious, with the scars and bald spots, but a really friendly stray, that waltzed into his yard like he owned the place.
Through the hole the landlord said he would fix and never did.
That his fluffy ran through in a panic.
And now his fluffy was gone, and Kane spent all of last night looking for her, and couldn’t find hide nor hair. He even called his local animal patrol, but because fluffies are bio-toys, and technically property, they were unwilling to help because “That’s not their juristicion. Try the police.” but then the police won’t help because she’s a fluffy, and don’t consider that a valuable use of their time.
Kane might??? Loose it. He might go apeshit. He deserves it.
The dog presses against his palm, all sweet-like, and wags his tail. Kane strokes him, absentmindely, taking another breath.
To find a fluffy, one must think like a fluffy— and Kane knows a few fluffy experts.
“Damn, bitch, you live like this?” Alma comments, strolling into his house like she owns the place. Theo eyes his dirty kitchen warily, but keeps his mouth shut as they close the door behind them.
“What’s with the dog?” Theo says instead, pointing at the mutt. “I thought you had a fluffy? Wouldn’t she be scared of him?”
“Oh my god, puppy!”
Kane ignores Alma as she dives straight for the dog. She rubs his head, then back, then belly when he flops over, loving all the attention she gives. “You both like me, right?” Kane asks. Theo pauses.
“Depends on the day.”
“I need a favor.” Theo doesn’t say anything, and Alma is too distracted by the dog. “I lost Surprise, and I need help finding her.”
“Goddamnit, is that why you called me over?” Theo grunts. He pulls out a ziplock baggie from the inside of his coat pocket, slamming it down on Kane’s kitchen table. “I brought all this weed for nothing??"
“Who the hell told you to bring weed?”
“Alma did!” Alma doesn’t respond, giving a kiss to the top of the dog’s head. Kane rolls his eyes. “Okay, you lost your fluffy- big woop. Just grab another off the streets, it’s practically the same.”
“I’m not just going to grab a random fluffy!” Kane says, horrified and disgustedly. “Surprise is my fluffy, not anybody else! You wouldn’t say that if I lost a dog!” Theo doesn’t answer. Kane sighs.
“Look, just help me out, and I’ll treat you both to lunch for a week.”
“Not fast food.” Theo frowns. “Like a real meal, with protein.”
“Sure, fine, whatever! Are you in?” Theo nods slowly, so Kane turns to Alma. “Alma, are you in?”
“In what?” She asks, looking up. “What’s happening? I wasn’t paying attention.”
Kane sighs. It’s for Surprise, it’s for his fluffy. Just repeat those words until the fluffy is back in your arms.