The work week passed quickly, but it always does when you’re busy. Each morning and evening has been the same; get up, check the back yard, put out a little food and water, scoop up fluffy poop, toss it into the collection area, cover it with dirt. The mound is growing, slowly but surely. The mango tree sheds leaves fairly constantly, so adding those to the pile helps cover things up as well.
You never see the fluffies, but you hear them at night. Their voices are soft, quiet, lulling you to sleep only to be gone come morning. It would be nice to see them up close. Not that you haven’t seen them before. They’re not super popular pets right now due to the issues on the mainland turning many people off, but there are folks with them. They’re usually on the pudgier side of things, friendly and positive to the point of being naive, and can be loudly talkative.
The bright colors are interesting to say the least, but one time you did get to see someone’s Japanese Uma-Fluffu. Apparently the Japanese banned the import of anything fluffy related until Hasbio or some other company made a breed just for Japan. You’re not sure what the big differences were aside from they all seem to have more horse-like colors and patterns. Might have to look that up later. It was smaller and quieter, though. Very well behaved. Kind of cute wearing a little kimono… a hapi?
These ferals though. Well, homeless fluffies. What makes a fluffy feral, anyhow? They were leaner than the house fluffies you’ve seen, and bigger than the Japanese ones. And quieter. At least from a distance.
How to see one up close?
Work has been hectic, which is great. The days don’t drag on by. Lunches are filled with eating and reading, the drive to work listening to pet podcasts. The Fur Baby Show, FluffFans, 4-Legged Roommates, and more. Given the drive is only 20 minutes you haven’t gotten through many yet, but they seem interesting.
“Going away for a bit? Putting your pet dog, cat, or fluffy up for the weekend? Here’s one of Warren’s little tips: animals can get separation anxiety!”
You turn up the volume, curious.
“Be sure to pack some special toys that they only get when you’re going to be away for a while. This will help distract them with something to look forward to. Another good trick is to give them a towel or shirt or something that smells like you. It’ll be comforting to them, especially for the dogs and fluffies since their sense of smell is so keen.”
Huh.
Tonight is laundry, your public service to customers and coworkers alike. Well, and yourself because re-wearing dirty socks (nevermind anything else) is gross. A quick walk to the back yard rewards you with the towels from the fluffy shelters. Several little black specks hop around on it, eliciting a groan. Fleas. Into the washing machine the lot goes with the water temperature turned up as hot as it gets.
Maybe getting up close to them shouldn’t be a priority just yet. You only want the manure for now, anyways.
While sorting shirts into piles of work shirts and tshirts, it dawns on you that some of the tshirts really are getting old. Its less a matter of their color fading and more about the holes. Some of them have definitely acquired a funk over the years. Unfortunately, some of the oldest, most comfortable shirts have both holes and funk. Not good for work, not good for going out and about town on errands…
Might be perfect for the fluffies, though.
While the washing machine does its thing, a scarcely used sewing kit is unearthed from the bedroom. Simple needle, some thread, and buttons. About eight shirts are brought out, each paired up then sewn to its partner along the bottoms. Then the sleeves and necks are sewn shut. Maybe not the greatest work (probably a D- in any home economics class), but the amateur and overkill stitching keeps the shirts together making four thin, make-shift blanket-ish things.
The sewn-up shirts and a few clean towels get installed in the fluffy shelter plus the dog house. Inu’s old white wooden house still seems to get ignored in favor of the metal shelving, but maybe this will help. Or not. Seems a shame they haven’t taken to it; she was a really good dog and probably would’ve loved them. She helped “mother” two litters of neighborhood kittens after all, giving them baths and nuzzling any who let her.
Laundry gets hung up to dry, food and water put out for the fluffies, and its time to call it a night.
Maybe its been too busy of a week, but when you laid down it was lights out. The smartphone chirps its alarm happily for Saturday, set a whole three hours later than you’d normally get up for work. A stretch, a yawn, and a quick bite to eat. The morning air is already quite warmed up, and the idea that today is going to be on the hot side doesn’t seem too far fetched. All the windows get opened and fans turned on since the house has no air conditioning.
The Costco kibble plinks pleasantly against the bowls as its slowly poured in. The bedding looks like its been slept in, which is a good sign. Well, not in the dog house. Maybe that’s an idea that needs to be given up on. But looking around there’s no little piles of fluffy poop to pick up. Confusing, but oh well. Its not hot yet, so there’s no point in delaying getting yardwork done.
Pulling out the reel mower from a storage cabinet the lawn gets mowed as high as the mower will go. Short enough to keep the folks happy, high enough that its actually nice to walk on barefoot. A rake is brought out, and before the pile of lawn clippings is swept into the compost area you notice that there’s poop there that wasn’t there before. The little piles have some dirt on them, but nothing like if you had done it with a shovel.
Huh.
The clippings get tossed in as you ponder what you’ve seen. Its already an hour later, you’re hungry, thirsty, and ready for a quick shower. As lunch is considered, you’re too distracted to notice a pair of eyes looking at you from amongst the bananas…
((Feedback appreciated! This is definitely turning into a slow burn story))
