Coming home is not the same as before. The backyard is quiet, but you’re not going there nearly as much now. All the toys have been moved to inside the house, but the lawn chair is still out for the nights when you and Coco just enjoy the night sky.
Just as well given the folks are wanting to fence the yard in after all these years. The handiman they hired can only work a little bit at a time plus there’s a lot of prep work. Not having fluffs underfoot helps.
Emptying four litter boxes doesn’t take long, but it does make you miss the simplicity of the back yard compost pile. Thankfully, one of the local hippy-types clued you in to compostable cat litter so at least that’s still going as intended. Over the weekend you built a small plywood roof over it since the rainy autumn and winter months were on their way. A low brick wall around it should help minimize water getting in should rains get heavy.
Thankfully hurricane season hasn’t had any hits or close calls. Granted, when it does end in November it’ll be raining a lot anyhow.
When you open the door the fluffs gather around the extended children’s gate you’ve put up separating the kitchen and dining room from rest of the house. Five almost weanlings and three adults means a single room to act as their saferoom wasn’t enough space.
“Hello everybody,” you say, a little tired from work.
“Hewwo!” they cheer.
“How are the babies doing?”
Sonic gently nudged Ti, the green pegasus filly forward. “Ti make bad poopie. Ti sowwy!”
“Saffwon hewp Ti cwean up,” the yellow earthie said. “Ti make wickie-cweanies fow bad pee-pee.”
Ti’s face contorts into a yuck face.
“So, the babies are doing better with the litter box then?”
“Cuwwy awmos’ make bad poopies!” the brown and white unicorn colt states proudly. “But no make!”
“Cwimson make good poopies,” said the red pegasus filly. “Bu’ make scawedy pee-pee when bad noisy scawe Cwimson.”
“Metaw munstah make woud scweeee outside,” big Coco said.
“Coco make scawedy pee-pee tu,” little Coco admitted. “Bu’ make cweanies.”
“Sky cwean Cwimson scawedy pee-pees. Pwease no be maddies at Cwimson.”
“I’m not mad, Sky. Accidents happen,” you say, remembering the fluffy training blogs from your lunch break. “Just learn how to not make bad poopies and scaredy poopies so when you’re big you won’t have to worry about it.”
As you start preparing everyone’s dinners the sound of playing begins again.
“Sky fastew dan Cuwwy!” taunts the blue pegasus, his voice getting softer as he goes down the hallway.
“Nuu! Cuwwy fastew dan Sky!” retorts the brown unicorn, voice growing louder on the return lap.
Big and little Coco are talking how to arrange shapes in a puzzle with the little one needing reminding of the picture they’re trying to make. You can’t hear much from the kitchen, but “twy dewe” and “mabbeh wong way?” can be made out now and then.
As you bring out the food Ti and Crimson fumble with the chew toys in their mouths. While all the babbehs are beginning their teething the two of them seem to have it the worst. Crimson drops hers as Saffron gets up to eat.
“Mummah!” she cries.
“Wet mama get nummies,” Sonic says as he nuzzles his adopted daughter’s head. “Den mama can make miwkies fow babbehs.”
You can hear his stomach rumble a bit, but pay it no mind. There’s food enough.
“Daddeh wan nummies?” Crimson asks, offering her chew toy up.
“Dat babbeh Cwimson’s moufy t’ing, no am daddehs,” he smiles, pulling the red and green fillies close. “Daddeh get nummies when mama happy an’ fuww of nummies.”
Coco brings Coco to the food bowls. “Bebbeh mouf huwtie?”
“Mouf huwtie. How wong tiww teef?”
“Many bwite times. Soon bebbeh no dwink miwkies. Eat big fwuffy nummies.”
Little Coco leans over to the bowl, sniffing the mixture of oatmeal, fruit, and kibble. Her head tilts, looking at the mish-mash, before licking it, smacking her lips.
“Wike miwkies bettah.”
Big Coco rubs her snout against the little one’s head. “Dat cuz bebbeh Coco stiww bebbeh. Yu wike when big fwuffy.”
Granola bar in your mouth, you step over the gate. A little snack never hurt. As you sit down, you look around at the scene around you. Saffron is still eating, slow as ever.
“Saffron, who is eating first?”
“Ti, gu get bottwe nummies!”
The little green filly perks up, and walks up before holding her front legs up for upsies. When you pick her up you make a note to weigh her tomorrow morning. The Humane Society was wanting some follow up information on the foals. But, for now, you guide bottle to her awaiting mouth.
“I really appreciate how you always make sure a different baby gets fed first, Saffron.” The statement is straight out of some of the co-worker communication articles your boss has the staff read, but it seems to work well with the fluffies. Positive reinforcement for desired behaviors.
“Saffwon wan’ be gud mama!”
“Sonic wan’ be gud daddeh!”
“Coco wan’ be gud… aunt-ie!”
lil coco is growing teeth now and the lil family is having dinner 
