Lovesick - part 9
Today was the first day Sammy was asked to bring in Mocha as an emotional support fluffy. Dr Cheryl Clark had two reasons, the first was to keep an eye on Mocha as she had encephalitis and her motor control wasn’t back to perfect. The other was most fluffies, with exceptions, were social creatures and the veterinarian experience was stressful and traumatic. Having Mocha around could possibly help the patient fluffy.
The plan was to alternate days between Jimi and Mocha, as having to wrangle two fluffies on the loose in an emergency vet wasn’t the safest idea. Nova had just opened his eyes this morning, they were a dark blue, which went well with the maroon speckling on the top of his head and tail. He was still being fed from the bottle, and Rachel was still enamoured, to the point Sammy had to warn her about Nova disappearing.
“So, Carol, you’ve got… Miss Lumpy…” Miss Lumpy was indeed lumpy, borderline obese, with a braided mane and a bow on her tail, Sammy swore she could see the white fluff ripple as the mare breathed. “And what’s wrong with Miss Lumpy?”
Miss Lumpy nudged Carol, who in response provided a treat for the fluffy. “Well, Miss Lumpy needs her shots. And, what do you recommend I can do about her weight?”
“Oh, well,” Sammy paused, taking notes on the chart which shots the fluffy needed, “looks like she needs a booster for rabies and you’re doing the flea and tick prevention via shots as well. As for her weight…” Sammy tried pressing in on Miss Lumpy’s side, which her finger went in disturbingly deep. “Cut out all the snacks and only a cup of kibble a day.”
“Nu! Miss Wumpy nee tweats! Am bestest!” That little bit of enthusiasm left her winded, thankfully.
“How is she with shots?”
“Do you have ear plugs?”
“We do, actually, and a sound proof room. But, can I ask if we try something? We are trying out an emotional support fluffy. Mocha is a mare that is very friendly and can serve as a distraction, and hopefully turn these visits into something positive.”
Sammy opened the door and Rachel handed Mocha over. “Hewwo! Am Mocha, nyu fwend?” Mocha happily waved with both front hooves.
“Yu ugwy poopy fwuffy. Miss Wumpy nu wan poopy fwen.” Carol frowned at the reaction.
“Miss Wumpy am suuuuu pwetty!” Sammy put Mocha onto the table near Miss Lumpy. “Yu da pwettiest fwuffy ebah!”
Miss Lumpy’s scowl changed to a smug smile, “dat am wite. Miss Wumpy am da pwettiest.”
As Mocha buttered up Miss Lumpy, Sammy returned with the two needles. The white fluffy hadn’t budged from the spot, possibly because she wasn’t physically able to move under her own power. “Miss Lumpy, can Mocha give you a hug?”
“Weww… Dat am poopy fwuffy, buh a huggie be otay. Jus one huggie.”
As Mocha gave Miss Lumpy the biggest hug she could, which to be fair, a small hug wouldn’t even get through the layers of fluff and flesh, Sammy quickly administered the two shots into Miss Lumpy’s rump with little objection.
“And you two are all done.” Sammy gave Miss Lumpy a scratch under her chin, “they will finish you up at the desk.” Carol had a bewildered look on her face, “better close that mouth, you’ll catch flies.” Sammy giggled.
“Oh. My. GOD. She didn’t scream once!”
“That was kinda the point, you know. And now she has a new friend.” Sammy waited to leave the room to turn in the chart, she was engrossed watching Carol try to squeeze Miss Lumpy into a carrier two sizes too small.
As she turned in the chart an almost regular customer, James, rushed into the waiting room with a small box in hand. “My foal. She needs help. Please?”
Rachel looked at Sammy, before she could say anything, Sammy took over. “Dr Clark is in the OR with that golden retriever, let her know we may need her.” She turned to James, “I’ll check it out first, follow me.”
Mocha was still on the exam table watching the commotion. As she took the box from the man there was a soft chirp. “Babbeh? Dat was a babbeh!”. Another pained chirp. “Wat wrong babbeh?”
“I’m sorry, we have an emotional support fluffy, just…”. As she lifted the lid her face went deathly pale. One ear bitten off, tail broken, wings bent in wrong direction, right eye swollen shut and bloody liquid dripping. She only had a second to look at the foal but she couldn’t even make out the color, everything was red, white, and brown.
Sammy closed the lid and Mocha stood on her hind legs pawing at her chest. “Mummah, wat wong wif babbeh? Mummah?”
Sammy rushed to the door, “Rachel, please take Mocha. Please.” When Rachel saw the look, she rushed back from the desk and scooped up the fluffy, closing the door behind her.
Once mocha was out of the room she took the lid off. The foal was missing her rear leg, it looked like it was bitten off, her entire rear covered in blood and semen.
“I-I came home and Buttercup was in the corner crying and Star’s dad, Cooper… He was on top. He was on top of her making that disgusting sound. And there was so much blood… And… I kicked him.” James was talking fast, too fast, and quickly running out of breath. “I’ve never hit them before and I kicked him. I kicked him so hard…”
In the box the foal chirped and peeped. She was only a little bigger than Nova. “I’m sorry. The… Star isn’t going to make it.” As if reacting to her words the foal started chirping. But it wasn’t from what Sammy said, the foal was shaking. No, not the foal, the box… Her hands, her hands were shaking.
Normally it was uncommon for a fluffy to be euthanized, most owners didn’t bring their fluffies in, and even those that did would rather toss them away without having to witness or pay for them to pass on. Furthermore, this was something relegated to the veterinarian doctors on duty, only fluffies weren’t regulated allowing many tasks to be relegated to the technicians.
“Do you want to be with her at the end?”. The words were hollow, she fought back tears, there wasn’t much that got to her when it came to this job.
“I… I can’t…” James walked out, leaving the foal with Sammy, he closed the door behind him. This wasn’t the first time she had to be with an animal at the end. Usually it was for cats and dogs, for the owners that couldn’t bear it, and for the doctor, usually Cheryl, so they wouldn’t be alone. This was a quick and painless end, but how could she leave such an animal scared and alone at the end?
Sammy prepped the needle of pentobarbital, half the dose for a cat, which would be more than enough for a foal. As if sensing something, Star was chirping and crawling around. With her one mostly good eye she saw Sammy, “mumblah? Heeepppp blahbleh?” Her tongue almost bit in half, she didn’t even have all her teeth in.
Star crawled with her back half dragging to Sammy’s hand, a trail of white, red, and brown staining the box. “Neeehhh mumblah? Mumblah heep blahbeh? Peesssse? Whhhhheeeeewww dahhhblah? Daaahhhhbblah? Daahheeblah heeeepp blahbeh?”
“Oh, baby, it’ll be okay. You’ll be all better and I’ll give you all the hugs and sketti you can eat.” The shot was quick, only a little pentobarbital was needed, Sammy used to joke with Cheryl that all you needed to do was shake the bottle at them and they would pass peacefully. This was the first time she ever had to euthanize a foal. She would have to tell Cheryl it took more than a shake.
The foal tried to curl up in her hand and Sammy gave it gentle pets on the top of her head continuing the pets long after the foal passed on.
Numbly, she returned the foal back to the box. Grief washed over her, the abhorrent treatment by her father and the abandonment from her human father was too much. Her face contorted and she buried her face in her hands.
Sammy’s back hit the wall and she slid down to the floor bawling. She didn’t know how long she was like that, but she heard the soft patter of fluffy hooves against the door. “Mummah? Mummah? Mummah nee Mocha?”
The door opened, “I’m sorry, she got away…” Rachel apologized as Mocha squeezed through the opening.
“Mummah? Mummah hab saddies?” Mocha stood on her hind legs reaching up to be held. Sammy gripped Mocha tightly and cried.
She was a good dog. Also I think the title is making more sense