After you’d loaded all the fluffy food bowls into the dishwasher you headed into the special fluffy safe room. Here you kept any fluffy that needed specialty care, mostly pillowfluffs and derped fluffies, but special cases did arise from time to time.
“Gud mownin Annie!” A purple unicorn with a green mane chirped.
“Good morning Lacy! Anything happen overnight?”
She put her hoof to her chin, thinking deeply. Lacy had diabetes, and required insulin with every meal. She was good about it, never complained about “pointy hurties” and was very level headed. She could go out with the general fluffy population, but it was good to have one fully able bodied fluffy in the special room. She knew she was in charge, and never abused the power. Some of the other fluffies even called her “mummah Wacy”. She was a very well behaved fluffy. “Nu, aww quiet aww sweepytime!” She beamed at you, and you ruffled her fluff.
“Let’s get everyone fed and then I’ll give you your breakfast and shot, okay?” Lacy nodded, and began to go around the room waking the other fluffies. You set plates in front of them with their specialized breakfasts; low calorie meals for the pillowfluffs in the room, slurries for those without teeth or had trouble chewing, carefully measured supplements for everyone. They all ate with the same gusto as the more abled fluffies, if only a little messier.
“Dat ebwyone!” Lacy chirped, holding her legs out in the “uppies” pose. You picked her up and set her on the counter at the back of the room, and pulled out her insulin pen.
“Ready?”
“Wedy.” She gritted her teeth as you pinched the scruff of her neck, and a small hiss escaped her as you injected her.
“All done!” You picked her up, gave her a big hug, and set her down with her plate of eggs. Lacy did best on a low carb, high protein diet, so a scrambled egg with a little cheese on it was her usual breakfast. “Eat up!” You stood back and watched the fluffies eat, partially to make sure no one choked. The derped fluffies chattered to themselves as they ate, their words even more garbled around their oats.
“Hey Annie!” You jumped at the voice behind you. You turned to see Donnie, one of your employees.
“God Donnie, don’t sneak up on me like that!” You smacked him playfully on the shoulder as he grinned.
“Not my fault you weren’t listening!” He quipped, walking over to where Lacy was eating. “How’s my favorite girl?”
“Gud!” She chirped back between mouthfuls of eggs.
“Great to hear!” He ruffled her mane, then turned back to you. “I can clean up after they eat for ya, I saw you had something waiting in the eval room.”
“Yeah…” you sighed heavily.
“Oh, it’s one of… those.” He grimaced.
“Yeah. Sarah won’t be in till late today…” you shared the same pained look. Your side of the shelter was staffed almost entirely by hugboxers who loved fluffies and hated seeing them go to the other side. But you all knew what a necessity it was. “Thanks Donnie. Make me some coffee for when I’m done?” He snapped to a sharp salute in reply.
Before you opened the eval room door, you took a few deep breaths. You could see the carrier shaking through the small window, and the puddle forming under it. This was the worst part. One last big breath, then you entered the room.
“Am gud mummah… am bestest mummah…” the mare was quietly sobbing, rocking her carrier back and forth.
“Hey, it’s okay.” You opened the carrier door and the mare crawled out, soaked in her own piss.
“Where babbehs?” She begged, putting her filthy hooves on your arm. You cringed, and held back the urge to shove her off.
“I can’t bring your babies back, you hurt them.”
She recoiled. “Nu! Mummah nebah huwt bestest babbehs! Dey gud babbehs! Fo huggies and wub!”
You sighed heavily. “Yes, but you hurt the brown baby, your daddy said you gave it forever sleepies.”
She furrowed her brow, “hm…” then the realization spread across her face. “Oh! Dat nu gud babbeh, dat poopeh babbeh! Steaw miwkies fwom gud babbehs!” She stomped one of her front hooves into the table, grinding down on it. “Mummah gib bestest stompies! Sabe babbehs!” She looked up at you, expecting praise.
You didn’t bother to hide looking disgusted. “That was a good baby too. You can’t go back to your babies because you killed one, and we can’t trust you.”
“Buh…” the mare tilted her head in confusion. “Buh… dat bad babbeh!” She stomped her hoof again.
“It wasn’t a bad baby.”
“Bad babbeh! Steaw miwkies!!”
“It. Was not. A bad. Baby.” You clenched your fists. With every stomp her chances of being rehabbed shrunk.
“Dummeh wady wisten to bestest mummah!” She shouted. “Bad babbeh was bad! Nee gu foebah sweepies!” Her marshmallow hooves stomped over and over in the puddle of her own piss. “Dummeh wady nu kno cuz nu hab babbehs!”
Your blood ran cold. “You…” you roughly grabbed her by the scruff, hauling her into the air. “I am trying to HELP you, you stupid bitch!” You growled into her face. “You don’t know anything, I would be a great-”
“Sis.” A hand rested on your shoulder. “Let me take it from here.”
You turned to see Sarah, a mirror image of you, standing behind you. Despite being twins, your sister and you couldn’t be more different. She was loud, you were quiet. She dyed her hair dark, you kept yours blond. She got tattoos, you didn’t even have your ears pierced. She could handle verbal abuse from fluffies, but you…
You set the mare down. She blew a raspberry at you, which cause you to reach for her again but Sarah caught your hand. “I’ll handle it.” She said firmly. You took another deep breath, shame rising in you for letting a fluffy get to you like this.
“Yeah. Thank you.” You stepped back from the table. “She killed one of her foals, we’re boarding the father until the foals are weaned.”
“Understood.” Sarah reached over to pet the mare. “What’s your name, mummah?”
“Bestest mummah am Mawigowd!” She held her front hooves out in the “upsies” pose, which Sarah ignored.
“And Anne tells me you’ve been a bad mummah.”
“Nu!” Marigold shouted, frustrated. “Anne am dummeh! Dummeh wady! Am bestest mummah, onwy gib stompies to bad, poopeh babbeh!!” She stomped in a mini tantrum. “Speciaw fwend dummeh too! Gib huwties to bestest mummah, and tell dummeh daddeh!”
“Well, that doesn’t sound like a good mummah to me.” Sarah said calmly, crossing her arms. This enraged the mare, who threw herself onto the table and began to scream. Sarah deftly grabbed Marigold by the muzzle, silencing her. “You have two choices here, you can listen to Anne and learn to be a good fluffy, or you can go to the bad place with me. And I-” she leaned down to look the mare in the eyes, “will not be as nice.”
The mare looked terrified for a split second, and you had a spark of hope that she would come around. But then anger filled her eyes once again, and you knew what was coming as Sarah released her muzzle.
“Mawigowd nu scawed of yu, dummeh wady!” She stood, turned, and lifted her tail. “Take sowwy-”
Sarah cut her off with a sharp smack to the hips, causing her legs to give out under her. The spray of “sorry poopies” turned into a trickle that matted into her tail. “Wrong answer.” With a practiced motion Sarah scooped the filthy fluffy into her carrier and shut the door. The mare began to wail again, this time about the “meany wadies” giving her “weggy huwties”.
“Go take a breather, Sis.” Sarah reached for your arm, then noticed the various fluids covering her hand it and pulled back. “You did your best.”
You did. You did do your best. You reminded yourself that not every one could be helped as you watched your sister and the screaming carrier leave. She was too far gone for your help.
You could rationalize it all you want though, never made it feel any less dirty.
