“Daddeh! Daddeh! Gud news! Weswie is soon mummah!”
Tyler looked at this violet fluffy in his arms, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side. Eyes narrowing, his only response was, “What?”
“Weswey am soon mummah! Meet speciew fweind at da daycawe!”
Tyler held Leslie close to his chest, patting her head and keeping is hands over his eyes to hide the sharp scowl on his face. After a few deep breaths, he had composed himself and held the fluffy up to eye level.
“That’s great news, Leslie. We’ll talk more about it when we get home. Since there’s something to celebrate, we’ll have an extra spaghetti night tonight.”
“Extwa sketties for Weswie? Thank you, daddeh! Weswie wub you so much!”
Tyler secure his companion in the car, and hurried home. Leslie sang quietly to herself the whole car ride home, “Mummah wuv babbehs, babbehs wuv mummah. Dwink wots of miwky, gwow up big an stwong.”
After feeding Leslie her beloved ‘sketties’, and putting her to bed, he stole away to his office to figure out a solution.
Leslie was NOT going to have babies. He did not have the space for them, he did not have the money to care for them, and he loved his purple companion, and didn’t want her to go through the heartbreak of having to part with her foals when they grew big enough to rehome.
Tyler was browsing the Fluffy forums for solutions and coming up dry. Most of the responses were essentially “a swift kick to the belly” to solve the problem, and judicious use of the sorry stick to prevent the problem from happening again. Tyler didn’t want to hurt his fluffy. He had never told her no to babies. It had never come up. She was only a couple months old, and it had simply slipped his mind how fast Fluffies mature and reach a breeding age.
Tyler was digging through catalogs now, for products that would make Leslie happy without having to keep her babies. He considered his best option was to have the foals medically aborted, have Leslie spayed, and to distract her with toys or something. But that didn’t seem like a real solution. Leslie was excited about being a soon-mummah, and Tyler didn’t want to take that away from her.
Tyler kept browsing, searching, looking for the least cruel way to handle the problem. Then an ad caught his attention, and he had the solution he needed.
A month later, Leslie was pregnant enough that her stubby legs barely reached the floor. If she had even a folded blanked beneath her, she could basically run in place resting on her belly. Tyler had contacted a local fluffy vet that agreed to help with his idea. Tyler sat down with Leslie and started stroking her mane.
“Leslie, are you excited to be a mommy?”
“Yes Daddeh! Weswie wuv beeing soon momman an’ can wait to give wub and huggies to babbehs!”
“Now Leslie, you know that being a mommy is a lot of work right? You’ll have to feed your foals constantly, and teach them to make good poopies in the litter box. And when they are big enough to talk and eat kibble, they’ll have to leave to other homes.”
“Weswei know wots of wowk for babbehs. Weswie will be good mummah! Weswie have saddied dat babbehs wiw weabe Weswie when dey big babbehs.”
“Leslie, what if I told you that daddy could make it so that you could keep your babies forever? That you could always be a ‘soon mummah’, and sing to your babies, and keep them warm and safe inside you?”
“Weawy daddeh? Weswie can keep tummeh babbehs? But no can gib tummeh babbehs huggies…”
“Well Leslies, you know I’ll always give you huggies. And if the babies are in your tummy, then they are getting huggies, too!”
“Weswie wike huggies! And Weswie wike gibbing huggies to babbehs! Daddeh will wub and huggie tummeh babbehs for Weswie?”
“Yes Leslie, daddy will love your babies as much as you do. I’m going to take you to the doctor tomorrow, and she’s going to make sure your babies stay warm and safe in your tummy, so you can always be a soon-mommy, and you can always sing to your tummy babies.”
“Fwank you daddeh! Weswie get to have fowebbah tummeh babbehs! Weswie so happy!”
Leslie laid unconscious on the metal exam table. A fluffy’s tiny body didn’t take much to knock out and numb entirely.
Tyler was giggling to himself, “I’m sorry I’m still stuck on Yvette the Vet.”
“Tyler. Mr Mulvaney. It’s a name. Let’s get on with this procedure.”
“Yes, sorry. I’ll stop. So yeah, I talked Leslie in to wanted to be a ‘fowebbah mummah’, so she’s on board with this. Probably not with the specifics, but with the idea.”
Yvette slid her glasses back up her nose. “Your idea is a novel one. How did you come up with it?”
“Well” Tyler replied, “I messed up my knee something fierce a few years back. Thankfully I’m able to function normally with just a brace after the surgeries and I avoided a bone-on-bone situation. But that’s what did it. All my shopping for a better brace, that is. I got an ad for artificial cartilage knee treatment.”
“Huh, so it was just chance. Well, this is about the kindest cruety I’ve ever been asked to inflict on a fluffy. So, you emailed the company and they just sent you leftover artificial cartilage?”
“Pretty much. It’s basically the vat scrapings. The stuff that’s too squishy to provide adequate protection. Normally it’s just production waste. So, I got a half dozen blobs about the size of russet potatoes. I figured that should be plenty.”
“Honestly, this could whole new means of Fluffy care.” Yvette sighed. “In the right circumstances it could be better than pillowing. Less cruel at least.”
“And a potentially lucrative business. If this works out and Leslie is happy, the supplier wants to talk growth opportunities.” Tyler replied. “She’s great, and I adore her. But her having a family is simply a no go for me. This solves the problem and if anything goes wrong, we just have them removed.”
“Right. Well, I’ll ask you to return to the waiting room. I’m going to proceed as we discussed. Leslie is to be spayed, the foals aborted, and these ‘russet potatoes’ put inside her to keep her thinking she’s pregnant.”
“Yes. Honestly, thank you doctor. I really think this will be best for Leslie. And if it can help other fluffy owners, all the better.”
Tyler had already brought Leslie home by the time she awoke from the anesthetic. She was groggy for a few minutes but when she fully came to and realize she was on Tyler lap, she looked at him, deep concern in her eyes.
“Daddeh! Eb’wyting aw’ wite? Tummeh babbehs happy?”
“Yes, Leslie” Tyer replies, gently brushing her mane. “Your tummy babies are safe and sound. You’re a good fluffy, and I know your forever tummy babies love you very much.”
Leslie was beaming. “Mummah wub babbehs, babbehs wub mummah! Babbehs wib in tummeh, keep dem sawfe and wawm!”
Tyler continued brushing Leslie, humming along to her song. He needed to email the company later, and let them know implantation was successful, and the trial period was ready to begin.
expecially ferals it makes for very interesting scenarios