Mummah loved Cupid very, very much. He was her favoritest thing ever and she said so every day. Cupid was special, and even had a blanket draped over him at the moment that said ‘Mummah’s Special Baby’ with lots of hearts, and even though he couldn’t read she told him that’s what it said. He didn’t have any weggies but every day he got told what pretty red and white fur he had. He always felt like the bestest ever when getting compliments.
His mummah didn’t know what he said but he thought the same way as an fluffy. Whenever he spoke, it wasn’t the same words he was saying in his brain. He’d had an accident in the wawa bowl when he was little and so he couldn’t make good words anymore, but he still thought and felt the same way. Right now he was buckled up in his special car seat, going on a vroomy trip with mummah. He wasn’t scared like other fluffies were sometimes. He was a big boy (despite needing to wear a diaper), and had lots of fun watching teebee in the backseat. There were also dangling toys over the seat that he could slap around with his stumpies, and it was a lot of fun seeing them jangle around.
As his beloved mummah parked the car, the stallion tried to express himself the best he could. “Chyou! Chyou!” He chirruped excitedly. Like always he was trying to say: ‘Love you!’ but it didn’t come out right. She didn’t even seem to notice him, maybe mistaking his excitement for the noise the tablet strapped to the back of her seat made.
Immediately, he felt alone. He hated when she left. But he was a big boy! He wouldn’t cry or fuss about it. Instead he focused on FluffTV. The current program was Cinnamummah’s Happy Babbehs and it was one of his favorites! All of the singing, the way the mare made every foal there feel welcome (even the ones with no weggies), and all the silly games was easy to absorb and get lost in. He watched for awhile as they went on and on about sharing your nummies until he started feeling sleepy. It was warm in the vroomy and the warmth always made him want to take a nap.
Some time later he woke up. Something was wrong, though. Mummah hadn’t come back. More than that, Cinnamummah’s Happy Babbehs had ended and was currently in the middle of Dancin’ Babbehs. Fluffies weren’t smart but those who were sat in front of television all day could have a sense of time by what program was on and this was many forevers after his favorite! Beginning to fuss and whine, Cupid made babble noises. “Buu! Buu-buu-buu!” Poopies! Poopies, poopies, poopies! He needed to go so bad. His mummah understood it and the diaper he wore was only a formality, as he could usually get taken to the litterbox. Beyond that though? It was so warm. For a normal person it likely wouldn’t be bad at all even stuck inside a car, but something covered with fur, immobile, and under a blanket? Too much.
“Muh! Muh!” He called out for his mummah. Most times she would come running when he got fussy, which wasn’t all too often honestly. Still nothing. Just all alone. With shame and embarrassment, the stallion soiled the diaper he wore. Mummah never hit him with a sorry-stick for accidents or punished him at all, but he always felt her disappointment and that hurt worse, maybe. Now he was a bad dummeh babbeh who had made bad-poopies. Maybe this was a test? Maybe she had been waiting to see if he was going to make bad-poopies and would never come back?
“Suy! Suy!” He cried out. Sorry. “Suy suy suy!” He chanted again and again, his mouth dried out from the heat and lack of fresh air in the car. More and more tears streamed down his cheeks. He had disappointed mummah, the only one who ever loved him.
Dancin’ Babbehs went to a new show. Cookin’ With Fluffies! As happy fluffies helped make cupcakes with the host, he was baking too. The heat and bad-poopies made him itch so bad. It felt like a million buggies were crawling on him. At this point he had sobbed so uncontrollably that he made himself throw up, that morning’s specially blended kibble coming up in great clumps down his special blanket. Many more forevers passed, and Cupid had given up (or was unable) to say anything more.
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Susan was at the special no-kill shelter for fluffies just like her own. She lied and told them she had found him like this. Cupid really had been her beloved little guy, but that hadn’t stopped her from forgetting him in the car that day. He was supposed to be at daycare and she had forgotten him. Yet he hadn’t died. By some miracle, he hadn’t died and that meant something right? That he should be kept alive. Kept…comfortable, at least. She had tried her best before but now he couldn’t do anything. Not even the simplest of words. Couldn’t use the litterbox. Anything.
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Cupid’s mom had come back for him. He didn’t realize that until later, after opening his eyes after the big sleep. He was awake! Mummah, he tried to say. Love you mummah! The words didn’t come out though. No matter how hard he tried, his mouth wouldn’t move. His stumpies wouldn’t move. Nothing worked but what was going on inside of his brain. But…she had left him here.
‘Here’ being a cold dark place. There were no special blankets. There was no teebee. There were only other fluffies who cried and begged all day long. No more good nummies. Instead a paste was pumped into his mouth. He laid there all day, unable to complain because he couldn’t. Usually a dirty diaper clung to his back-half full of poopies, and owwies began to form because of it. Nobody ever gave him huggies. Nobody smiled. And it was all his fault because he had been a bad fluffy.
