Chapter 19: Lessons
Erin was fuming, yet also torn. How should she punish a bratty foal? It wasn’t like she could sorry stick Sol too much; he was too little and fragile. Yet the shock therapy hadn’t worked and he still thought he was special. He refused to eat solid foods. Erin wasn’t keen to sell him off to an abuser and be done with him. Maybe she was becoming a bleeding heart hugboxer, but she didn’t want to give up on the foal, especially with him being an alicorn. If anything…she supposed she could sell him to a breeder. Erin knew some fluffies were irredeemable. They picked up too many bad habits, so their only options were either killed or bred. Erin didn’t have the heart to kill the foal, and studs tended to have a slightly better time as breeders. Again, this was only if she couldn’t fix him.
In the bathroom, she filled the sink partially with cold water, then pushed Sol in. It covered his little hooves.
“SCREEEE! Wawa bad fo babbeh! Sabe babbeh!” Sol screamed, trying to waddle out of the sink, despite being in no danger of drowning.
Erin watched, a troubled expression on her face. Water wasn’t the best punishment, especially when she was trying to get the fluffy not afraid, but she was pretty limited in what she could do. She pushed him back down whenever he was scrambling at the edges. “Sol. You have to stop being a brat. I showed you what happened to bestest babbehs. If you don’t want to end up like that, you have to be a good fluffy. You have to eat your kibble.”
Sol looked up at Erin with more malice than a little foal should have. “Kibbwe yikkies! Wan miwk!” He insisted.
“You can’t have milk. You’re getting too big.” Erin had looked up what to do when a foal was stubborn, and the best option was being persistent with them only getting the kibble softened with milk. No backing down or the foal would think they won and never take the step forward. Yet this was for foals that were stubborn, not foals turning into little bratty smarties…
“WAN MIWKIES DUMMEH!” Sol screamed.
Erin scowled. Okay, this was crossing the line. Erin gave him a flick across the face, perhaps more harsh than necessary. “I’m selling you to a breeder.” She said. “I can’t let someone adopt a little brat like you.” She knew too many would fall into the ‘but alicorns are special’ camp and let Sol get even worse. The best punishment she could give was having him be a stud, living in a cage, only looking forward to giving enfies.
After draining the water, and drying off his hooves, Sol went into the sorry box jr, where he did rage, at least until Erin put the box in the back of the spare room, where it was nice and dark.
Erin looked online. Though she was getting rid of the little brat, she didn’t want him in a hellhole. She did consider a place called The Mill. Despite the name, it wasn’t much of a mill after all. They may not accept Sol, given he was a feral, and all…but he was an alicorn with nice colors. Most of the time ferals only had a nice personality that warranted taking them in. Verdant was a prime example. Not good colors according to fluffies, but Erin adored him and his sweet personality. And yet…Sol turned out opposite.
It was a shame, given how much Verdant and Precious had cooed over him. He was so cute when he was little, but it was as if one show flipped a switch in his tiny mind. It turned him so rotten that Erin didn’t know how to deal with him. She wasn’t going to abuse or torture him to turn him good…she didn’t have the stomach for that. It was quite hard, for a girl who grew up with animals. Even if fluffies could talk and become bratty, they still looked like animals and were still pets.
The Mill it was. Though…they had an interesting program. Turning brat fluffies good. They even accepted foals. Maybe…there was a chance to get the little guy back. She shot an email that route instead.
‘I have an alicorn foal that recently turned bratty. An unscheduled show of Babies played on FluffTV and had made Sol believe he is a bestest babbeh. In addition, he absolutely refuses to wean off milk and has called me a dummeh. It’s either he has to be fixed or I’m selling him to a breeder. I hope you can help.
- Erin’
After that was sent off, she sighed, leaning back. Well, that was that taken care of. But what to do in the meantime? She would have to stay sorry sticking and sorry boxing if he didn’t shape up…which she highly doubted he would.
Erin decided to go for a walk to cool off. One of the group walks. She would take the dogs and Verdant, though she had a special fluffy carrier for when the fluffy got tired. Of course Verdant couldn’t keep up with a dog or human’s stamina, even if he was training. Erin called them over, and started getting them ready. Leash and harness for the dogs, while Verdant needed his harness, coat, and little boots. They were so cute, and Verdant had adjusted to walking in them.
Verdant giggled and clopped his hooves. Erin had splurged a bit to get little light up boots for Verdant. It was for her enjoyment as much as Verdant. It was so worth it to see him do little hops so the boots would light up.
“Alright. Lets walk.” She said.
As they walked, Verdant looked up at his mummah. “Mummah? Wat gonna happen tu Sow?” He asked, worried.
Erin sighed. “Sol is being a very bad foal right now.” She said. “Some people are going to take him away to try to fix him. If they can’t…they’ll get to keep him.” She said. She didn’t tell The Mill she was going to sell to them specifically. Erin wanted to make sure they tried their best to fix him. Not that she thought they’d be dishonest…but Erin was a bit of a pessimist.
Verdant whimpered, his ears going down. “Miss when Sow was gud babbeh.” He said.
“I miss it too, Ant. It’s sad he turned out like this…but these things happen sometimes.” Erin hated whenever she had to explain to Verdant how life wasn’t fair. “When you have foals with Precious…we’re gonna make sure none of them turn out bad.” She said. She had to make sure there was no FluffTV for them. This was the last straw. Not even an attempt to record one show went right. Just one show and they managed to mess that one up.
Verdant’s tail wagged. “Ant wan babbehs.” He said.
“You’ll get them. But you two need to be old enough. Having foals is a big responsibility, remember?” Erin reminded Verdant. “And having them too young turns the mare and the foals into bad fluffies.”
Verdant nodded. “Ant ‘member. Ant wait.” He said.
Erin smiled. At least her first fluffy was a good boy. He listened to her and adored her…and she adored him. “Good boy. When you and Precious have foals, I’m sure you’ll raise them right.”
“Buh…Sow am meanie babbeh.” Verdant said, looking up at his mummah with worry.
“Yes, he is. But that’s not your fault. The TV said something that made him mean. I’m sending him someplace to fix him. They’ll make him a nice babbeh and give him a good home.” That was…possibly a lie. If they couldn’t fix him…well, they could have him. Perhaps he would even be killed if he wasn’t fixable.
Verdant nodded, cheerful that maybe Sol could be a good babbeh again. He remembered Turner became a good babbeh again.
Erin heard hushed voices from the bushes, and knew there were fluffies in there. She was prepared to ignore them, though her dogs were quite aware of the fluffies. They had perked ears and stared hard towards the bushes as if they had X ray vision. Erin started to tug their leashes for them to come along when she heard one of them taunt Verdant.
“Wai poopie fwuffy get mummah!?” A shrill voice demanded.
Erin saw a fire engine red fluffy poke his head out, his cheeks puffed.
Verdant puffed out his own cheeks and stomped his hoof, making his shoe light up. “Nu am poopie. Am toughie!” He claimed. He’d been building his confidence. He was pretty to his mummah! And he didn’t need to be pretty. He was a toughie!
The smarty growled. “Poopie fwuffy get sowwy poopies!” He turned his rear towards the fluffy.
Erin moved fast, picking Verdant up and taking a step back. Just in time too, as the poop flew across the sidewalk. Any remorse gone. She looked at the dogs. “Molly. Daisy. Let’s get close to the fluffies.” She said.
The dogs started doing happy sniffing, getting close to the bushes. They wouldn’t bite the fluffies…but they didn’t need to know that.
Screeches emanated from the bushes. Screams of fear, most a variation of ‘Nuuu’ or ‘Bawkie munsta!’ Erin enjoyed it a bit before tugging to get the dogs to follow. “Wasn’t that fun?’ She asked, and gave Verdant a little hug before setting him down to walk.
Verdant smiled up at his mummah. “Tank you, mummah.” He said.
“Of course I’ll defend you, Verdant.” Erin said. “You’re my fluffy. I love you always.” She said to him.
The rest of the walk was smooth, Erin humming. The walk was a circuit, so she didn’t have to pass those fluffies again. The dogs were delighted that they’d gotten to sniffle something new. Erin made sure to train them not to bite fluffies. The ferals were disease ridden. She’d have to get rid of Verdant’s fleas when she got him first, and that had been a trip…
They got home, and Erin heard faint crying. Ah, right. Sol was still in the sorry box. Well, that could wait. She turned on a kid’s show for Verdant, letting him watch from her lap. It was about numbers. Erin half watched, half browsed on her phone, petting Verdant.
On the TV a show was playing. One she’d vetted. It was called ‘Numbers with Snowflake. It taught numbers and was hosted by a pretty animated fluffy pony. Though a fluffy would not be able to tell a real fluffy from a drawn one. This fluffy was white with a blue mane. “Hewwo fweinds! Namsie am snowfwake! Am gunna teach numbas!” The fluffy said, though Erin suspected it might be a human using Fluffspeak. It was…admittedly easier and cheaper than trying to get a fluffy to memorize a script. Same with using animation. It was all animated, it seemed.
The screen changed to show Snowflake with a blue unicorn with a green mane and tail. The setting was drawn to look like a kid’s room, with thick boarders and colors. There was an oval rug on the ground along with a large picture on the wall, depicting the featured number. In the background there was a fluffy’s nestie, a litter box in the corner of the screen, a ball and a blockie on the other side. “One is fo unicown! Dey hav one pointie!” Yeah, it was definitely a human using fluffspeak. Erin felt sorry for the voice actor. She must be paid pretty well to be willing to do this…
The unicorn’s tail wagged. “Das wite! One pointie pwace.” His horn shone. “An zewo smawties!” He proclaimed.
“One…” Verdant repeated, entranced by the TV. “One pointie. Nu smawties.”
The number changed to a two as the screen cut, a new fluffy in its place. This was a red pegasus with a darker red mane and tail.
“Two am fo wingies! Pegasus hav two wingies!” Snowflake said, pointing a hoof at the pegasus.
The pegasus was sitting with their back to the camera. The wings fluttered. “Yus. Haf two wingies!” It declared. Judging by the voice, the pegasus was supposed to be a female.
Verdant once again repeated. “Two wingies.”
The next shot was in the litterbox, a ‘3’ drawn in the sand with three pieces of poop.
“Oh, they didn’t…” Erin muttered, hiding a smirk.
“Three am fo poopies!” Erin definitely knew this was a person, as the three was pronounced perfectly.
“Poopies go in da litter box!” Snowflake’s voice claimed, and a quick rendition of the Good Poopies song played. Something about pooping in the litterbox and not on the floors. Erin heard that it was something fluffy mothers sang to their foals. She never bothered with that.
“Yikies…” Verdant said to the poop. “Thwee. Poopies in witta box.”
Thankfully that segment was over quickly. The camera was on Snowflake’s hooves, which were a light blue.
“Four am fo hoofsies! Fwuffies hav four hoofsies!” Snowflake declared, giving each a little stomp in turn. A ‘4’ was scrawled on a piece of paper on the floor nearby. “Hoofsies nu am fo stompies. Hoofsies am for huggies an pwaying with toysies!”
Erin was glad this show was at least trying to give a positive message. She was wondering how they’d handle the next number, as most fluffies couldn’t manage past four.
“Fouw. Hoofsies am fo toysies!”
The next scene showed a mummah with five foals. “Four pwus one am five!” Snowflake said. There was a ‘5’ in the picture frame. “Five am fo babbehs!” The animated foals made little peeps and chirps. “Aww babbehs am gud babbehs!” Snowflake reminded. “Nu munsta ow poopie babbehs! Babbehs am fo huggies and wuv!” Snowflake reminded the fluffies.
Verdant’s tail wagged. “F…five. Babbehs am gud babbehs.” Not that he needed to be reminded of this.
Snowflake was now on screen, waving goodbye to the camera. “Snowflake wiww see you nex time! Snowfwake wuv you!” The show ended.
“Bai Snowfwake. Ant wuv you too!” Verdant waved at the TV as if Snowflake were a real fluffy that could respond back to him.
At least the day ended right.