Lovesick part 12
The crate closed with a click. The same crate that held Jimi and Mocha some time ago. This time, Nova was in the back clinging to a Nova sized stuffed kitten. Sammy watched as he tried to waddle over to the water bottle, his back legs skewed out and awkwardly stumbled, the numbing agent still in full effect. Once that wore off, he would certainly be feeling some pain, but fluffies healed fast and at his age, Nova should be good as new in a day.
Nova sipped at the hanging bottle and promptly returned to his new favorite stuffed friend. His eyes fell on Sammy watching through the gate and he waved, still content. “Wub nyu fwen!”
She smiled, bring reminded of how much Mocha loved 'Tuffy. “Does he have a name?”
“Yus! Stuffy fwen name Meowy!” Nova gave the stuffed cat a big hug, falling over.
The next opportunity for Mocha to help with a fluffy appointment was for a check up and booster shots for a breeding stud, including the first round of vaccinations for a foal. This would help keep her occupied as Nova recovered in the crate.
“Mr. Thomas, please follow me.” He was a burly and gruff man, middle aged if not older. He never seemed happy, at least that was the first impression. He very much had resting asshole face. Once Sammy got to know him, he wasn’t nearly so bad.
Thomas was a regular client of theirs. His alicorn stuff, Brutus, had teal fur and a white mane and tail. The coloration threw off every human that heard the name, Brutus was just too cute for such a rough name. Cheryl knew Thomas well, he requested her services in setting up a breeding facility, and while he did not implement everything Cheryl suggested, he trusted her judgement.
From the chart Sammy was glancing through, he had three dozen breeding mares. The more surprising part, his main stud was Brutus. Some men would call that heaven. But this fluffy looked tired. Exhausted.
Brutus laid on the exam table as the humans talked, his attention on the brown mare that walked in. “Whu dat?” His head hung over the table, watching every movie Mocha made.
“Oh, that’s my fluffy, her name is Mocha.” Sammy picked up Mocha and held her near Brutus, talking towards Thomas. “We are trying out emotional support fluffies. Can Mocha give him a hug?”
Thomas shrugged but Brutus’ eyes went wide when he realized Mocha was a mare. His legs scrambled and his hooves slid against the table pushing himself back as far from her as he could. Brutus ended up standing with his back to the wall, his eyes darting for an escape. “Nu wan spechul huggies!” He shrieked, even with his claim he had a full fluffy erection. “Nu! Nu nu nuuuu!”
“Okay, okay, you don’t have to hug her.” Sammy quickly put Mocha on the floor.
Thomas chuckled, “yeah, he is really weird about hugs.”
Sammy and Thomas talked about the breeding set up while she calmed Brutus down with a treat and some scratches around his ears. She learned that Brutus breeds once a day for three weeks, not every breeding attempt was successful ending up with Brutus breeding daily, sometimes daily for upwards of a month. The mares would get a two week break after giving birth before going back into the cycle.
Mocha was still in the room, she was concerned and kept quiet while the humans were talking, Brutus having forgotten about her.
“Bring out your baby, Brutus.”
The fluffy nodded and retrieved from the crate a canary yellow alicorn foal. “Dis am gud babbeh, nice wady wan how’d babbeh?” He held out the foal in his hooves.
“Chirp! Babbeh wan huggies! Nyu mummah? Jus widdle babbeh, nee wots ob wub!” Already the foal was talking, and was developed enough to walk on his own, but Brutus held up the foal anyway.
“Aww, he is a cutie. May I?” Thomas nodded and Sammy reached out to hold the young alicorn.
“That’s about a thousand dollars you’re holding.”
“Mocha, would you like to see this baby?” Sammy knelt down and mocha happily trotted over, she loved babies so much.
When she got close enough to sniff at the foal she took a step back.
“Sumtin’ wong wif dis babbeh. Dat… Dat am wingy an pointy babbeh.” She shook her head and took another step back.
“Mocha. All babies are good babies.”
Her tail and ears flattened, “yus mummah…” Mocha was not convinced.
“So, how old is this little guy?” She returned the foal to the exam table, back on his legs he waddled around the table, being carefully watched by Brutus.
“Let’s see, he is number 115… 15 days, today. He is due for his first round of vaccinations.”
“Is that numbering system the total number of foals Brutus has sired?”
“Nah, I don’t care about the others unless they have special coloring. This is alicorn foal number 115, Brutus has been a stud for just over two years now.”
Well, no wonder Brutus looks exhausted.
Prince looked up… not Prince, Jimi. He looked down and had all of his legs. “Prince, where are you?” It was daddeh calling him. Prince! C’mere!"
Daddeh, he remembered daddeh! He loved daddeh! He ran as fast as he could, all the way to his daddeh’s feet. He raises his hooves up to be picked up.
“No one wants to pick you up, you stupid poopy fluffy. Mocha doesn’t love you. Your mommy doesn’t love you. I don’t love you either.”
Prince felt an impact, he struggled against the ground only to find his leg missing again. Jimi yelled and screamed, unable to fight against the ground swallowing him up.
Jimi’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused. Sammy was holding him like a baby, she had wiped up the vomit and diarrhea from his back side. Both ends were quite a mess.
“Oh, my baby, are you okay?” Sammy slowly rocked him and hummed a soft song.
Jimi shook his head, his throat burned from the constant vomiting. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Mocha and Nova looking concerned.
“He’ll be okay,” Sammy told the two. “This will make you feel better, just drink, okay?” Sammy held a bottle and pushed the nipple into his mouth and he suckled greedily at the clear sweet liquid. It was simply Pedialyte and half a baby aspirin crushed up.
Within moments of emptying the bottle he fell back asleep. Only to wake again, drowsy and confused. He wasn’t in bed and his mummah wasn’t holding him. He was laying in a familiar crate, a patch of fluff shaved off of his leg, and a tube from his leg ending at a bag.
“Jimi nu wike dis annymowe.” He curled back up, missing the fluff pile with Mocha and Nova.
Cheryl and Sammy enjoyed a coffee break in her office, the two women shared an excellent professional and personal relationship.
"So I’ve noticed that Mocha is doing very well as an emotional support fluffy. "
Sammy nodded, sipping at her coffee, “aside from her nervous reaction to the alicorns, she’s been splendid. I don’t think we’ll get enough of those in here to worry.”
“And how was Thomas?”
Sammy gave a wry grin, “did you know he has Brutus breeding daily, he’s got a different mare to knock up each and every day.”
“I told him that he’s gonna wear out Brutus and should save some of the foals to rotate into breeding.” Cheryl shrugged, Thomas was a client, just like any other, all she could do was provide recommendations.
“How come you don’t get a fluffy?” Sammy paused for a moment. “Actually, it’s kinda odd that you don’t have any pets…”
“Well, there isn’t really any mystery. I’m here 60 hours a week, I just don’t have the time to devote to a pet, not what they deserve at least. As for getting a fluffy, as great as they can be, it’s too unnerving to have my pet argue with me. And speaking of fluffies, what happened to Jimi?”
“I think it was food poisoning or maybe he’s allergic to that canned food I tried. Mocha was fine, and they both had the same type of food. I’m not sure, really. He’s doing better, I got him some Pedialyte and the IV is fixing the dehydration.”
“It was that bad?”
Sammy set the mug down. “It was everywhere. The floors. His fur. It was on the walls. The walls.” She sighed. “At least he’s okay now.”
Cheryl put down her mug, “well, that sounds horrific.”
“You should check on him, I bet he misses ‘Miss Cheryl’. I made sure to give him a bath, he smells all pretty.”
Cheryl pushed herself from her desk, “well, that’s enough incentive, I’m going to check on your little guy.”
Sammy peeked around the corner to watch Dr Cheryl hold Jimi, he hugged at her while she showered him with baby talk.
“I heard you can count, is that true?”
“Yus miss Chewyl!” Jimi proceeded to count to five in Spanish, leaving her surprised.
