Lovesick - part 2
Mocha was loving her new mummah. She got so many hugs. SO MANY HUGS. And she got the best nummies. And toys! So many toys! There was the green ball. And the sparkly ball. And the red ball. That was three balls. Mocha’s favorite was the sparkly ball, but she didn’t tell that to the red or green ball. She knew there were three balls because her mummah, who was the best mummah, was teaching her to count.
Well, trying to teach her how to count. It took an entire bright time to get to two. Three, that was a tough one. Four was worse, and five was right out. Jimi, compared to Mocha, was a savant. He made it to five in two bright times.
Mocha prodded the first block, “dis am one. An dis am one. An dis am one.” She nodded and looked up to Sammy.
“You’re not wrong.” She tussled Mocha’s mane. “And there are more than that. How many blocks are there?”
“One. An one an… One… An anudda one. An-”
Jimi nudged her out of the way. “Uno, dwos, twace, quacko, sinko.”
Sammy’s mouth fell open while Mocha bopped him on the head, “dummeh fwuffy makin’ dummeh wowds.” That was the last time Sammy made the mistake of leaving on Fluff-TV in Espanol.
“Mummah?” Jimi politely asked as she was still processing his ability to count in Spanish. “Can fwuffies hab buwwitos?”
“Uh… maybe?”
Mocha’s ears perked up, fwuffies askin’ mummah fow stuff? “Mummah, since yu gunna gib Jimi a buwwitos, can Mocha hab babbehs?”
“A burrito is not the same thing as babies! And you, little missy, are too young, you’re still a baby yourself!”
This was factually incorrect. Sammy knew it. Mocha knew it. Even somehow Jimi knew it.
“Buh, mummah. Mummah.” Mocha waddled closed and put a hoof on Sammy’s knee. She addressed her mummah with a solemn demeanor. “Evewy fwuffy nee babbehs. An Mocha am a fwuffy. Dewefow, Mocha nee babbehs.”
“Oh yeah? Well, where do babies come from?”
As if logic was going to deter Mocha. How preposterous. “Babbehs come fwum da babbeh stowe. Mummah nee to bwing a babbeh home tu Mocha fow huggies an wub.” It made perfect sense, how could her mummah not understand.
“And what about a special friend?”
“Weww, dat soun’ gud but Mocha weawwy jus wan babbeh.”
“Ayuduh, mummah! Ayuduh!” Before Sammy could retort, Jimi shouted, he was on his back with his three legs flailing, the ball slowly yet also suspiciously aggressively rolling away.
"That’s it, no more Fluff-TV in Espanol for you, mister. "
Mocha flopped about her bed, her tail swishing. It was another brite time. This brite time mummah had to work. Much like her first daddeh, mummah was gone more of the bright time for wowk. The days she didn’t have work, they were the best.
She had been struggling a bit recently. Even Jimi was feeling it. During the day when mummah wasn’t home, they were tired. Nummies weren’t as nummie. The toys weren’t as fun. The world was drained of its sparkle. With a light nudge the ball went rolling, and Mochas eyes lazily followed it. Not even ball was as fun without mummah. And as everyone knows, including fluffies, ball is life.
With a sigh she waddled over to the mobile. It was a standard type for babies, but this one also had small fluffies as well as depictions of the sun and clouds and even a bow of spaghetti. Sammy has it mounted on the wall at a fairly low height, perfect for fluffies. Mocha had to crawl on her stomach to get directly underneath. She rolled over and started batting at the decorations.
Mocha hab nyu mummah fow su many bwite times… -smack- her hoof hit the mobile sending it into a slow spin. Nyu mummah an owd daddeh bof weave Mocha and Jimi awone fow su many fowebas… -whack- the mobile bounces and rotates in the other direction. She even tried, and failed miserably at counting the number of forevers since she last saw her mummah, “one foweba, an anudda foweba… An anodda foweba… Dats su many fowebas.”
Mocha was bored. And tired. Maybe it wasn’t just tired. She had little energy, not like when mummah was around. -sigh- Mocha looked “up” to watch Jimi, already bored of the mobile. He was sitting in front of the “teebee”, his tail twitching.
-Babbehs! Wub babbehs!- a mare on the screen loudly proclaimed. Mocha whispered “… babbehs…” Over and over between grunts as she scooted from under the mobile.
Each time she stepped, practically skipping, she whispered “babbehs.” Jimi was being stoic as usual and watching the scene silently, only his tail twitching. She plopped down and leaned into him. Which brought another thought, Jimi nu hug wots… Nu tawkies wots. Buh fabowite bwuddah. He was coincidentally her only brother.
Both fluffies were transfixed to the screen. It was a mummah hugging and cleaning chirpy babbehs. Soft tinkling of a piano accompanied the off tune singing of the mummahs. While Jimi and Mocha didn’t notice, every few cuts was of a different colored mare with a different colored babbeh, even brown babbehs were getting cleaned.
When the camera zoomed out to show the chirpy babbehs feeding Jimi’s tail swished back and forth faster. Both fluffies enthralled by the scene, but for different reasons. As the show ended both fluffies looked at each other, neither interested in the hour long dancie babbeh marathon.
“Wan… Mocha wan babbeh. Jus one babbeh. Mocha be best mummah. Mocha am gud at singin and mucha was bes dancie babbeh.” She nudged Jimi, she needed that validation.
Jimi was having none of this, his attention was fully on the mare. At the nudge he gave Mocha a soft bop on the head, “Mocha wuz a gud babbeh, for a dummeh poopie babbeh. But, Mocha be a gud mummah…”
By the time Sammy got home from work the two had forgotten about the brief babbeh fever. Both fluffies ran around her feet, alternating between rubbing against her legs or trying to hug her legs. She gave them the usual greeting, hugs and pets.
She picked up Mocha and spun, dancing to the safe room, turning up the lights in each room as she went. She swapped Mocha for Jimi and danced back to the living room. He giggled and hugged against Sammy as she spun and hopped about.
“Wait here, I’ll get your dinner. Yummy nummy Nummies!” She quickly returned with the food bowls and water bowl. Into the closet they went to be swapped with the prettier bowls with the same kibble, but extra supplements. It was amazing how much some additional B12 impacted their energy and mental state.
Sammy set down the bowls and the two already started to salivate. “Eat up!” The two dug into the food, the same bland kibble, but the extra supplements making everything better.
“Tomorrow, were going to visit Dr. Cheryl. You’ve got another shot, Mocha.” Mocha didn’t like the shots, but she didn’t complain. Mostly because she had a mouth full of kibble.
After dinner, the three cuddled up on the couch and watched TV until bedtime. The topic of babbehs long forgotten and the topic of a special friend not even broached.
It wasn’t a coincidence that Sammy showed up to the veterinarian office two hours early for her appointment with two fluffies in tow. Both Cheryl and Sammy agreed that they wanted to wait a little longer before training them as emotional support fluffies for the office. She opened the crates in Cheryl’s office and both happily waddled and hopped out of the crates.
“You came early… Don’t think I didn’t see who is on the schedule today.” Cheryl smiled and gave both fluffies scratches around the ears.
“Well, duh!” Sammy laughed, “c’mon you two, follow me!” She marched out of the office, Mocha and Jimi following behind.
Every tech Mocha passed greeted both fluffies with a warm hello. Mocha beamed and greeted them right back with a pleasant “hewwo!”. She loved every person here, and her bent tail bounced back and forth as she followed her mummah.
She paused at the doorway to look back at Jimi and Dr Cheryl before venturing in. She didn’t expect to see another person, a man with dark brown and gray fluff on his head. And she especially didn’t expect him to be hugging her mummah. “Hewwo?” She tilted her head, a bit confused.
“Hewwo! Nyu fwend?” A fluffy voice called from a place Mocha couldn’t see. Until she looked up. A dark green fluffy with a dark blue mane peered over the edge of the exam table.
“Mocha am Mocha. Dis am Mochas bwuddah Jimi.”. Jimi sat down next to Mocha. “Yu nyu fwend?”
“Dat am gud names. Angew am Angew!” The man with the brown and gray fluff lifted Angel and set her on the floor. Then the chirping started. He gently placed two small balls of fluff on Angel’s back, “dose aw Angew’s babbehs!”
Mocha nearly shrieked, “BABBEHS!”
