My New Fluffy by MostlyNeutralbox

(My first fluffy story as promised! I had a lot of votes for D (the bad mummah) but some VERY persistent stories for A (hugbox). I’ve decided to do both. I will use a character Erin for my hugbox and Eric for the bad mummah story. Whether D will be an offshoot of A remains to be seen. Please let me know in the comments.
Let me hear any constructive criticism, or any special requests for the story.)

Chapter 1: The Finding

The day started as it often did. Erin let the dogs outside in the morning to go to the bathroom while she got their food and her own ready. Midway though her water she heard barking from the backyard. The dogs spotted something. Probably another neighbor walking their dog. Erin would have ignored it if it weren’t for the ‘SCREEEEEE!’ that soon followed.

Erin rushed outside, worried the dogs got a bunny. There had been a bunny once before in the yard and Erin hadn’t seen it in the neighborhood for a while. “Molly! Daisy! Leave it!” Erin snapped. Molly, the black furred rescue with white patches, looked hesitant to leave the figure she was snapping at, but backed off. Daisy, the blonde wheaten terrier, obeyed right away. Erin looked at what the dogs were terrifying, and furrowed her eyebrows. “What in the hell?”

It was a fluffy. A foal to be more specific. Dark green with a black mane
“Huuhuuhuuu…” the little foal sobbed. Its hooves were covering its eyes. It looked young. Old enough for solid food and walking but it shouldn’t be away from its parents yet.
Erin picked up the foal by the nape of its neck, eliciting a stream of scaredy poops and a “Bad upsies! Bad upsies! Nu wike!”
“Shut up.” She said. She didn’t snap, but her voice was cold enough for the foal to stop struggling. It looked up at Erin with its blue eyes. “P-pwease nicey hooman…be nyu mummah fo babbeh?” It pleaded, sucking on its hoof.

The only reason Erin hadn’t spiked it on the ground or let the dogs at it was curiosity. Mostly the curiosity of how it got into her yard. Not the mode of entry. No, she knew of multiple holes in the fence that needed to be replaced for years now. She wondered how any fluffy got to her house in the middle of the street. Nearly everyone on this street owned a dog. Beyond that, there were four neighborhood cats that she knew about. Fluffies were not known to be quiet.
“Why should I do that? Fluffies are annoying. They shit themselves. I already clean up the shit from my dogs and cats.” She ignored the fluffy ineffectively trying to cover its ears, muttering something about ‘bad wordsies’. “Don’t like swearing? Well you’ll hate it here.” Erin swore a fair amount, but her father swore like a sailor. They toned it down when Erin was younger but when she was sixteen, her father figured she’d heard it all by then. Her mother didn’t swear much.
“I have two dogs and cats. I’m not gonna bother saving you from them if I don’t even like you.” She continued.

“F-fwuffy pwomise nu ask fo toysies, sketties, o anyfing. Jus wan wuv and nummies and warmsies.” The fluffy begged.

Shameless thing. “What about your herd? I heard you things travel in them.” Erin refused to call fluffies shit rats. It was an insult to rats. She rather liked them. Rats were clean. And intelligent. She’d have one if only her mother didn’t despise their tails.

“Nu hewd. Hewd nu wike poopie fwuffy.”
Dammit, did it have poop on it!? Erin checked her hands, but they were clean, other than the dirt from the fluffy. Yes dirt, not poop. “Uh…poopie fluffy?” Erin was familiar with the term, but this fluffy didn’t look like it lived in shit. It took her mind a few beats to realize that poopie fluffy didn’t only extend to brown. “Oh, right. The colors.” Erin realized now how this fluffy likely survived. The eye burning neon puffballs were likely bloody messes in the streets. This fluffy managed to evade detection by being small and in the grass. How it avoided detection from its scent or its pathetic crying being heard was down to luck.

“P-pwease! Am onwy widdle babbeh!” The foal continued to shamelessly plead. It tried to bring its little marshmallow hooves together.
“Are you sure? I don’t have a safe room. You’ll have to share a space with the dogs and cats.” That was only partially true. Erin didn’t have a safe room but if she took the little thing in she wasn’t going to let it get eaten. That would be a messy cleanup. As much as she wasn’t fond of fluffies, she also didn’t want to hear it scream as it died. She had a small closet in her room that she didn’t use. She preferred to fold her clothes. She could probably fix that up to be a space to store the little thing as soon as she could find a space for it. “See, you’ll have to get close to them.” She lowered the fluffy a little to let the fluffy see the dogs. Daisy panted happily, the somewhat empty headed dog wanting to make friends. Molly was more excitable and tried to rear up on her back legs. The fluffy didn’t like this.
“SCREEEE! Munsta! Mummah! Hewp!” It screeched. It probably would have shit again if it wasn’t emptied of scaredy poopies earlier. “Huuhuuhuuuu…”
Erin lifted the fluffy out of range. “See? You’re calling my precious dogs monsters! Why would I want a fluffy around?” She said in mock insult. She sighed, feeling bad after. The thing was sobbing so hard its whole body was shaking. “Fine. Only a few days. Until I find something else.” Erin relented. If she didn’t do it, the fluffy would surely die.

“Weally?” The foal asked, looking up with damp cheeks. Hope sparked in its little eyes.
“Really.” Erin said. She started to walk back to the house, the dogs following close at her heels. They kept their eyes on the fluffy. So much so that Daisy walked right into the gate before waddling around it and bounding a few steps to catch back up. “But first…we need to give you a bath.”

“NU! SCREEEEEEE!”

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rats are a little far from clean, but they’re smart.

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They’re actually fastidiously clean. I did my senior seminar all about rats.

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you little rat.

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