What an interesting group of people I’ve stumbled onto. And the interesting creatures that seemed to unite them: fluffies. I suppose I need to blame or thank The Click for this, possibly both albeit in uneven measure.
Regardless, thanks to @Eded_ted’s efforts there’s been a lot of fluffies going up for adoption. It was interesting to watch this process, with some really nice, cute fluffies going up as well as some… interesting ones? Special challenges lets say (@Kathi’s Venus seems to have an interesting journey ahead).
@Fluffybuns41 put up a microfluffy named Leaf for adoption. I asked, albeit not sure what I was getting into, and, well, I’ve got a fluffy.
So what have I adopted? Leaf is a little filly, a Pegasus from looks and paperwork. The adoption picture was quite cute, and as one would expect changed when ownership took place. As @anon31733200 has noted, humans are magic. And in that regard fluffies are a product of that magic. Whether one believes magic to be a supernatural force, that which science cannot explain, or the showmanship of Penn and Teller, Broadway plays where Tinkerbell rallies the crowd and we willing give up our disbelief? Fluffies are definitely magic. A work in ideas and creativity.
And my magic, so to speak, is a little on the weak side. I do hope Leaf can help. Work and church and other demands have kept me busy enough to pay attention to such, to idly enjoy an idea for no other reason than the joy it brings to simply do so.
“Daddeh give Weaf huggies?”
A gentle petting and stroking has her cooing contently. She’s maybe the size of a tennis ball? Which isn’t a bad size when you consider I’ve got two cats, one of which is a heckin’ chonker. But cats are fast moving and agile. And easier to see.
Leaf is already little thing. A bit of “human magic” reshapes much, and I give her a smaller stature. Now she has the footprint of a white polymer eraser, fitting easily within my hand.
“Weaf am smaww now?” Her voice is much quieter now. Smaller.
“Yes, you are. I hope you don’t mind, Leaf, but I think you’ll have a happier life this way.”
“Yu think su?”
A much gentler stroke of my finger and the barest of kisses on her head are about all I dare do at the moment. “I do.” Maybe I’m being paranoid but sometimes it seems like a stiff breeze could turn a fluffy into a Mortal Kombat fatality.
The realities of life is that renting a bedroom is more affordable than a whole house meaning space is limited. A good sized box will do for her home for now, and it fits in my bookcase. A trip to the local pet store will: hopefully a reasonable terrarium ought not put too much of a hurt on my budget. The key here is I can make better use of vertical space, and at this size it’ll be plenty for her.
Moreover, I need to pick up some drops from the vet. As a microfoal is simply too small to practically (or affordably) surgically spay, I’ll need to pick up a medication-based spaying/sterilization kit. State law, only way fluffies are allowed here. Hawai’i does not have harsh autumns and winters to keep fluffy population down. If anything, we’re a bit too green year round so there’d be no natural, outside controls on them. Add in the rising desire to grow more of our own food versus shipping it here via barge? You can see why this would be important.
Fluffies coming into the state have to quarantined for 30 days. Enough time to make sure they don’t have rabies (we do the same for cats and dogs), but also aren’t pregnant. They also have to be spayed or neutered, either surgically or via medication.
“Are you tired, Leaf? You had quite the trip.”
She yawns. “Hab nummies?”
I bring her to the cardboard box. Its actually a box from a print shop, made to hold 13"x19" sheets of paper. Inside is a small litterbox, a small dish of kibble, some cat toys, and a some hand towels folded up so she can nest inside. Lowering her in she goes straight for the litterbox to make good poopies then trots proudly off to the food.
“This will be home for now. I’ll get you something nicer soon.”
“Fank yu Daddeh.”
I stroke her again, then push a little toy mouse to her.
“Oooh! Pwetteh cowwahs!”
She hugs it, rolling onto her side.
I watch for a bit as she cradles it, rocking back and forth, chirping happily. Eventually, she gets back up, nudging it towards the towels, then pulling it under them with her. Two little lumps are visible from within the folds as contented noises come up softly.
The cats have paid this no mind. Its out of their reach, so just as well.
In the meantime, I get ready for bed myself. This should be interesting.
