AN - Since the mass delete 
all of my recent writings appear to have been made ded. I’m reposting this full story in one post so that anyone who enjoyed it can read it again. May write some more, may not, who knows 
My siblings and I rushed down the stairs, mostly humouring our younger brother, though the excitement of Christmas can be deeply infectious, and we were feeling it ourselves by the time we reached the bottom, and saw my mother sat on the sofa.
“We thought we’d get you all something fun!”
She explained, holding a small box – with air holes.
I was excited once more at that. I’d wanted a dog for a while, having grown up with two lovely animals that had sadly passed just a few years ago, and I truly missed having an animal around the house. The companionship, the unconditional love, the play and just the entire experience of having a dog was incredibly fulfilling to me. My parents had a policy when it came to Christmas gifts, everyone gets one big gift. Not big as in, physically large. Big as in expensive, exciting, their hearts deepest desire. Usually this meant some kind of console for my younger brother, by far the quietest in the family, and more likely to spend his days hiding away with his games than doing anything outside, as I had done at his age. My sister, however, just a few years my junior, would usually get a large gift card for her clothes retailer of the month. Mine was the most variable – being the oldest, I’d outgrown much of the usual, and so I tended towards money that I could spend on my own hobbies at my leisure and saving up to move away, for when I finally escaped to university.
My mother opened the box, and we all peered in. It was decidedly not a dog. It was quite entirely the opposite. Three small, strange… animals? Had looked up to see us. Almost ponies, but not quite – covered in fluff, and only about the size of my fist, these were clearly fluffy ponies. They’d been a major hit over in the US, and had recently began to become a common sight over here, too.
The fluffies were looking up at us, a moment of joy and wonder on their faces, before they each reacted.
“nyu daddeh!” yelled the smallest, a yellow fluffy, raising itself up to its hind legs and performing what I could only assume to be an attempt at a dance, wobbling from side to side, waving the stubby hooves as it stared at my little brother.
“hewwo! awe yu fwuffy’s nyu mummeh?” A slightly larger grey fluffy spoke, leaning against the side of the box and reaching up towards my sister.
“fwuffeh wuv yu, nyu daddeh!” the final one exclaimed, this one seeing me first. It was a light brown – not an unpleasant shade, it made it look most like an actual horse out of the lot, actually – and stared up at me with a set of wide, excited eyes. I did my best to hide my disappointment, not entirely wanting to hurt the seemingly unknowing creature’s feelings. If it had feelings? It could speak, so I presumed it should.
“They like you!” my mother exclaimed. “What do you think?”
“They’re… cool.” his disinterest obvious, my brother was already preparing to sulk back to his computer, denied his console for the year.
“Yeah, they. Are pretty cute, I guess?” My sister had never been one for pets – she was never unkind, but wasn’t particularly excitable.
Feeling the Christmas spirit ebb a little, and not wanting to disappoint my mother, I forced a smile.
“I like them. They’re pretty sweet.”
I reached my hand in, cautiously. I’d heard they were exceptionally delicate. Though they all moved towards it, clearly looking for the first sign of any affection – or perhaps, attention – they could, the brown one was in front of me, and got there first.
“Wuv.” it cooed, wrapping its small hooves against my hand, not able to full encompass it with its tiny legs. After a second, it looked up at me again. “nyu daddeh wuv fwuffy?”
“Sure, I love you, little guy.” I could tell how happy me interacting with these things was making my mother, and I had to admit, it was pretty cute.
“So…” I ummed about how to phrase this. “We’re getting one each, I assume? That’s a lot of animals to have in the house. I don’t think I could walk three dogs at once, let alone ponies.”
“Oh, they don’t get very big! They’re about… cat sized!” My mother responded. “They don’t need to go outside, either! That’s the best bit – we’ve got you all a little kit!” She gestured to three other boxes, unable to move to get them herself with the fluffy box on her lap.
Inside of them was a small fluffy bed (and fluffy in the descriptive sense, though presumably they were for the animals, too.) with a tag reading “Real Mummah Feel™!”, whatever that meant, a very shallow litterbox, a few blocks and balls of various sizes, a food dish, and water drip, that seemed to be similar to those that were placed in the cages of small rodents, only freestanding. I presumed that this was for the safety of these very small creatures, the must either stay really small or have a lot of trouble with water in bowls.
While I’d been surveying the box of equipment for looking after them, my siblings had become acquainted with their new pest. Given that we’d each interacted with only one, they had picked up the ones that had first spoken to them. While my sister was gently holding hers, allowing it to sit in her hand as she spoke to it in a more and more interested tone, while my brother had picked his up more like he was holding a rodent, with his hands wrapped under its hooves. He was twisting it around, looking at it from different angles.
“bad upsies! nu wan!” The small yellow creature rasped – I as he brought its eyes up to look at it, I could see them bugging slightly, and its little hooves were pushing against his hand. Its chest was pushed inwards where he was gripping, and it was clearly having trouble breathing.
“Young man, you are crushing your fluffy!” mother had noticed too, and barked at him. “Put him down!”
With a roll of his eyes, my little brother did as he was told. “I was just looking!” he protested. The fluffy lay in the box, gasping for air. Though its little body did eventually settle back to normal breathing, there was a raspy sound to it, as if it were now more laboured than it had been before.
“Are you okay, little guy?” My mother looked down into the box.
“fwuffy am otay mummeh. bad upsies huwt fwuffy but mummeh wescue.”
It weakly raised itself up, embracing her finger.
It had been an hour since we’d first seen the fluffy ponies. We’d moved on to other presents, and breakfast was just being served before we moved away to spend time with our various other gifts – I hadn’t received anything that would take my attention, so I figured I may as well get my new pet set up in my room, the same way that my siblings would be keeping theirs. My room was in the attic, a long, open space with very little in the way of room for someone of my size, but plenty of room for someone the size of this little animal. Looking down into the box, I realised that I should probably name it.
“Hey, fluffy.” I crouched down so I could look at it – they had been cooing happily at my mother, clearly enjoying getting attention.
“Hewwo nyu daddeh!” the brown fluffy wandered over to me.
“I’m gonna give you a name, okay?”
The fluffy nodded excitedly.
“Fwuffy gon get name?”
I nodded in kind, thinking about what to call my new pet. I wasn’t going to use any of the dog names I’d thought up – those were for when I got a real pet. It’d feel weird to give it a human name, too. Suddenly, an idea popped into my head that I actually laughed a little at. It would probably be pretty cute in the fluffy’s voice, too.
“Your new name is Brooklyn Supreme, little guy.”
“Yay! Bwookwyn Supweme wuv nyu name! Fank ou daddeh!”
I snicked. It was just as funny as I thought it’d be. I looked up at my mother, who’d seemed pretty delighted that I was paying attention to my fluffy – my siblings were both less than interested.
“I’m going to go and get your things set up upstairs, Brooklyn. Do you want to come and see your new room?”
Brooklyn nodded enthusiastically.
“pwease daddeh!”
I smiled, and reached a hand down. Brooklyn raised up onto his hind legs, reaching his arms out, like a baby asking to be picked up – which is not unlike the actual situation, actually. I gently took hold of him, and picked the box of fluffy supplies with my other arm.
“See you in a bit, folks.” I thanked my parents, and went upstairs.
So, my room wasn’t the cleanest. I’d been busy, and hadn’t really had time to clean up the whole room. It was a fairly large space, about 20 foot by 10 foot, though because of the sloped roof only the central space was actually walkable. Along both edges of the room I’d placed a variety of small storage shelves, small enough to fit and offering better storage than simply piling up boxes. They did leave a little bit of space behind them, where I usually pushed things that I didn’t want to think about – unfinished projects, old school books and the like. The opposite end of the room was dominated by my bed. King sized, with a soft mattress that was the most comfortable thing I’ve ever slept on, and I was very pleased with it. Opposite to my bed, next to my door, I’d set up my desk, with my PC and other implements for writing and painting. I had a chest of drawers and a small wardrobe, as well as a small sofa at the end of my bed that folded out into a camp bed, though I hadn’t done anything with that in quite some time. I looked around the room, considering where I’d put Brooklyn’s stuff. There was a small corner next to my chest of drawers where I hadn’t been able to put anything else – the radiator took up that space. I figured that the little thing would like the warmth, and set down his bed below it. I didn’t particularly want steamed shit, however, so I put the litterbox a short distance away, on the other side of the sofa – visible from his bed, since he’d learn the location. My old cat had, anyway, and he couldn’t talk.
I placed the water drip by the bed, and laid out the blocks, too. When I was finally done putting things down, I place Brooklyn down.
“Nyu safewoom?” He asked, looking up at me.
“Yeah, this is your room.” I guess they’re afraid of rooms that we don’t tell them are safe? Who knows. “Your water is here, and there’s your toys. Your litterbox is-”
Before I could finish my sentence, Brooklyn let out a shrill yell.
“bwockies! Baww!”
And immediately rushed to play with them. Well, rushed for him, for most other creatures of his size his pace would be a lesiurely one. I sighed, but watched him play. It took him a second to scramble out of his bed, the small, soft raised section cleraly a little tall for him, but the moment he was out, he began to push the ball around with his snout. It never moved very far, he was clearly extremely weak, but he was getting more joy out of it than I think I’ve ever gotten from anything.
While he was distracted, I decided to finish off a few notes I’d been working on, moving to sit down at my desk. I could hear Brooklyn giggling and laughing, pushing the ball around the meagre floorspace the he had.
“Remember to use the litterbox if you need it, Brooklyn. It’s right there.” I pointed it out to him.
“Otay Daddeh!” he replied, before returning to playing.
I zoned into my work, slipping in a single earbud and making notes on one of my textbooks. If I was going to get into a good university, I needed to make sure that I was doing as well as possible in my current studies, so I had been making a habit of consuming as many textbooks as possible. It was interesting stuff, really, and while I didn’t exactly enjoy the act of reading textbooks, it was at least exciting to know that I was working towards my future. I spend a good ten minutes like that, barely aware of the world around me, until I was startled by a knock at my door.
“Can you please shut that fluffy up?” My sister yelled. I took off my earbud to hear Brooklyn screaming.
“whewe daddeh? whewe yu gu? nu bad babbeh! pwease come back daddeh!”
I looked around, following the sound to see Brooklyn running back and forth below the sofa and along the radiator, attempting to find me. I could see the trail of where he’d been, since the carpet was clearly marked with his panic, a trail of excrement following behind him.
“What the hell, Brooklyn. I’m literally right here.” I was not happy. The smell had hit me as soon as I’d noticed it.
“Why the fuck are you shitting all over my room? You can see me from there.”
Brooklyn looked up in shock towards my voice. The foal’s eyes watered, and it began crying anew.
“hu hu hu… babbeh sowweh daddeh… babbeh got scawed… nu see daddeh…”
“Yeah, well you didn’t have to shit all over my carpet to show that, did you?”
Brooklyn looked behind himself, surprise dawning on his face.
“nu mean make bad poopies! bwookwyn supweme am good babbeh!”
“Clearly not. I showed you where the litterbox is. You should know that you need to go in there.”
I got out of my chair, taking some of the litterbox tools and a carpet cleaner from my little box of cleaning supples.
Leaning down, I picked Brooklyn up by the scruff of his neck, earning another “Bad upsies!” from him, but I wasn’t really in the mind to care.
“Be quiet while I clean this up.”
He nodded, still crying, but now doing his best to stiffle it.
“Otay daddeh.” he barely peeped out. I tossed him into his bed – not violently, but I really didn’t care for his comfort at the moment, not now that I had to clean his mess from my carpet.
He gave a screech as he flew through the air, though landed safely in the bed, not having fallen very far. Still, by the way he was sobbing it was like he’d just been flung from a plane, sitting there staring at me, tears flowing freely down his face.
I got to work cleaning up after him, scrubbing the carpet clean and making sure that everything went into the litterbox. When I was finished, I gesture to the litter box.
“See? Your shit goes in the litterbox.”
“bwookwyn supweme pwomises tu make good poopies daddeh. pwease nu mowe bad upsies…”
“Just use your litterbox next time.” I sighed. It was almost lunchtime, and I was already sick of his shit (both kinds.)
Christmas dinner was one of my favourite parts of the day. I loved turkey, stuffing, pigs in blankets – all the amazing snacks that come but once a year and leave me yearning for more for months to come, so when my mother called upstairs, yelling that it was ready, and that I should bring Brooklyn down for his lunch too, I got ready to rush down.
As I approached his bed, leaving the cleaning supplies by the litterbox, he looked up at me, still teary eyed from all the crying he’d done from being reprimaned.
“daddeh, bwookwyn supweme am sowwy fo’ makin’ bad poopies…”
“It’s okay, little guy. But I showed you the litterbox. You need to use it next time, okay?”
“Otay Daddeh.”
I picked up the foal, noticing that every time I reached towards him, he would adpot that same position, standing on his hind legs and raising his arms up. I tried it a few times, and it seemed to be something that he always did.
“Why am daddeh nu giv upsies?”
“I was just checking something. Come on, it’s lunchtime. Let’s get you something to eat.”
I picked him up, carrying him carefully in one hand. Unlike cats, I didn’t have to worry about supporting him or anything, since he fit neatly into my palm, and seemed quite happy to stare up at me as I made my way down the stairs.
“bwookwyn supweme wuv nummehs! mebbe bwookwyn supweme can has sketties?”
“I’m pretty sure we’ve just got you some fluffy food, little guy.” I had no idea what ‘sketties’ were, perhaps some brand of food that they really liked?
“siwweh daddeh, sketties am fo’ fwuffy!”
Brooklyn giggled, though his clarification of sketties being ‘for fluffies’ really didn’t clear anything up in my mind. My confusion was interrupted by my little brother storming out of his games room, slamming the door behind him.
“Fine! If you want to be that way, Naruto, you can stay in there until you’re over it!” He yelled.
“You named yours Naruto?” my sister snickered, having just come out of her own room.
“So?” he retorted. “He named his after some American city.” he pointed at me, his zinger really not landing at all in the way he wanted.
“Brooklyn supreme was a giant horse, genius.” I replied, looking down at Brooklyn, who was cowering in my hand from the loud noise, quietly peeping. “And this one is a tiny horse, see? It’s funny.”
“Well, unlike you two, I have given Bluebell an exceptional name.” My sister gave a smug smile, her own little grey fluffy wandering along behind her, having been hiding from the loud noise at the door.
“And you call her this despite the fact that she is obviously grey?”
“Yes. It’s a pretty name.”
Having thoroughly dissected the names of all of our fluffies – I honestly still wasn’t over Naruto – we gathered at the dining table. Our dining room was long, in the very centre of the house, and was lined with various cupboards of fine china and those horrifically tacky statuettes that my mother had purchased many years ago. The Christmas spread was laid out across the table, and it was impressive. It was all I could do not to rush to my seat and start eating immediately, and instead calmly walk to my seat, sitting down and as directed by my mother, placing Brooklyn down next to me, since, in her words, “they’re part of the family now.”. My sister did the same with Bluebell.
My little brother sat down, and at a questioning look from mother, gestured upstairs.
“I’ll feed Naruto later. He’s being a brat so I left him to sulk.”
She nodded in response, and brough around the bowls that we’d gotten in our packs, now filled with a small pile of kibble not unlike a cat’s dry food.
“This is special soft kibble for weanlings.” she explained. “It’ll make the babies grow up big and strong, and help them move from milk to solid food.”
The bowls certainly looked… unappetising, and Brooklyn seemed to agree.
“Dis nu am sketties.” he said, more dejected than demanding.
“I’m sure we’ll figure out what that is and get you some sometime. But you need to eat your fluffy food, okay, Brooklyn?” I gave him a stern look.
“Otay, Daddeh. Sketties watew.”
I looked to my parents, who gaves us the go ahead to eat. I was very excited, loading up my plate with a pile of delicious food that I was almost certain I’d be enjoying over the next few days too – the amount my mother had cooked was enough to feed triple the amount of people we had at the table.
As I set my plate down, I glanced over at Brooklyn, who was tucking into his pile of soft kibble with gusto, making a not insignificant amount of mess at the same time, something that my mother had also noticed.
“Brooklyn.” she snapped. “Stop making a mess of my table.”
Brooklyn jumped at being reerred to.
“sowweh mummeh! bwookwyn supweme nu mean tu!” he replied, moving around his bowl as if to hide behind it, despite it being about half his height.
“Eat slower. Do not ruin my tablecloth anymore.”
“Otay Mummeh.” he ate slower now, stopping every so often to cast a frightened glance at my mother.
“Perhaps we shouldn’t let them on the table again.” I suggested. “they are just animals after all.”
My mother nodded. “I just thought they’d be a bit… better behaved. The store assured me that they’re good pets…”
Christmas dinner passed with no further incident, though when the Christmas pudding was brought out and set alight, I did have to hold Brooklyn back from the “pwetty wight” that was the burning bourbon that covered it. My mother insisted that we let the fluffies try some of the pudding, and placed a small helping - still very large comparatively, given their size – in each of their bowls, which they all ate with vigour. Soon, it was time for the cheeses, one of my favourite parts. Enjoying a drink and a conversation with my sister over the latest shows on netflix and what movies would be out soon, my brother having left early to go upstairs and play on some of the new games he’d gotten, I watched Brooklyn settled down on the table, having fully stuffed himself with food.
After a few minutes, we heard a yell.
“Mother!” my little brother yelled from upstairs, before saying, slightly more muffed, “Naruto you stupid fuck!”
I rushed up, followed by my mother and sister, worrying that he’d hurt himself.
The scene in his room was chaos. There was a spray of shit on the wall below his window, covering it in a stinking spray, his pile of games knocked over onto the ground, and a slight scent of bacon.
“What happened?” I asked my brother, who was stood in the middle of the room.
“Naruto shit all over my fucking wall and knocked my games over.” he yelled back.
“Language.” my mother chided. “Where is Naruto now?”
“I don’t know! He’s ran off somewhere but I left the door locked.”
While my brother and my mother argued, I followed the smell. It was clearly not a smell that was meant to be there, at least, not one that would be there normally. It was coming from behind the TV stand, a large construction that houses my brother’s extensive console collection and his frankly excessive TV. I leant my head around the side and found the source.
There, laying in a small pile of his own shit, which covered the floor and the back end of one of my brother’s consoles, twitching slightly, was the bright yellow fluffy. Though his skin was seared and burnt, and he was twitching slightly, I could still hear him speaking in a raspy, quiet voice.
“wheh big sketties huwt nawutu ? nawutu jus’ wan’ nummies! hu hu huu…”
I could see what he’d done – one of the smaller wires going into the back of my brother’s PS5 was chewed up, the rubber torn away not by a single bite but by repeated ones, as if he was literally stupid enough to be eating rubber and mistaking it for fluffy food. And, of course, he’d gotten through to the bare wire, the metal shining through.
Unplugging the PS5, I reached down for the fluffy, lightly picking it up.
“SCREEE! HUWTIES! BAD UPSIES!” Naruto yelled as I wrapped my hand around his tenderised skin.
As I brought it back out, holding it at arm’s length to try and get as little shit on me as possible, my mother looked over, horrified.
“What are you- Naruto! Oh, you poor little thing!”
“It chewed through one of the wires.” I explained.
“Which one?” my little brother asked. “Which one?”
“The uhhh… PS5, I think. Pooped on it, too.”
“It WHAT?” He was enraged. “YOU DISGUSTING, STUPID LITTLE SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!”
Naruto responded by voiding his bowels – how did he have more shit inside of him? - down onto the floor, leaving a little steaming pile atop the games collection that he’d messed up, and screaming his tiny head off in confusion, panic and fear, trying desperately to wrench himself from my grip, but only causing himself more agony as he did so, rubbing the tender flesh of his ruined body against my hand, which I had to firmly press against him so as not to drop him.
My mother glared at him, gently taking Naruto from me as she did.
“Go to you room, and do not come out. I do not want to hear from you again until your father comes and deals with you, young man.”
Now sobbing almost as pathetically as Naruto, my brother stormed out of the room, yelling about how he hated all of us, while my mother cooed at the fluffy.
“It’s okay little one, we’re going to go get you help. You’re gonna be okay.”
“The vets will be closed.” I pointed out. She nodded.
“I’ll take him downstairs and look after him. Do you think you could clean this up for me?”
I sighed, but nodded. That was the second time I had to clean up fluffy shit, and we’d had them for less than a day.
The room was finally clean, the walls scrubbed neatly, the back of the console mostly cleared, though how badly damaged it was from the near liquid shit that had coated it I couldn’t tell, and the pile on the floor removed. I figured that that’d be enough, and opened up a window to clear out the stench, both of burnt flesh and the shit.
Heading downstairs, I follow the sound of Naruto yelling.
“SCREEE! WAWA AM BAD FO’ FWUFFY!”
My mother had him under the sink, and was running cold water over his burns. While the flow was light, and would probably be perfect for treating a human burn, it was clearly far too much for the tiny foal, and he was having to pull his head away to not be submerged in the spray.
“Are you sure that’s the right thing to do?” I asked.
“Yes, you put burns under water.” She replied, curtly.
“I think that’s fire burns, not electrical burns, though…”
“Well, what do you expect me to do, then?” she sighed, exasperation clear on her face. “I don’t know how to look after this thing. I just saw it in a parenting article and thought you kids would like them.”
Naruto hadn’t shut up, though his complaints were less to us and more general whining at this point, as it was clear that we weren’t giving him the attention he wanted.
“You put clingfilm on it.” I said.
“What?”
“I’m like 90% sure you wrap the burn in clingfilm.”
Mother thought for a second, before taking Naruto out from under the tap and placing him down on the counter next to the sink.
“Fank ou fo’ wettin’ nawutu out fwom meanie wawa, mummeh.” the badly burnt fluffy managed to say, now shivering slightly from shock, looking thoroughly miserable.
She pointed to a draw, which I quickly opened, and found a wrap of clingfilm, handing it to her. It wasn’t an expert job – we were hardly experts on either of this, but between me holding him still, and her wrapping the clingfilm, we finally got him covered, from his hooves to his chest, and we could survey the damage. Only a small tuft of yellow fur had not been singed off of him, leaving a patch just above his rear that still bore his colours, the rest of him was bald as a baby, roughly marked by the electricity. Naruto glanced around, now calmed down slightly, though clearly still in a lot of pain. He saw a stainless steel mixing bowl that had been left on the side, upon which his reflection glared back at him.
“SCREEE! MUNSTA FWUFFY! WUN!”
He yelled, attempting to rise to his feet and flee, only to fall flat onto his face, prompting a round of crying.
“Huu huu, huwties…”
Before he remembered the monster.
“MUNSTA STIWW THEWE!” and tried to run again, despite my mother’s attempt to stop him.
I could see what was happening now – his front legs were hanging limp, not responding as he tried to move.
“Naruto!” I got his attention, trying to break the cycle, as I moved the bowl away so that he couldn’t see it. “Sit still, naruto."
The fluffy cried, but did as he was bidden, staying still, staring at me with terrified eyes. I touched his front leg, very lightly, but on a place that was clearly burnt – somewhere that would definitely elicit a reaction. But he gave none, staring up at me with confusion.
“I think his legs are shot. At least, his front ones.” I said, glancing aside at my mother, though naruto was clearly listening too.
“Weggies?” he tried to move his legs. “Weggies… nu wowk?”
He tried again and again, the strain visible on his face.
“WEGGIES NU WOWK!” he cried. “HUUU! HUUU! WHY WEGGIES NU WOWK?”
As my mother took out her phone to look something up, I leant down.
“Hey, it’s okay, little guy. You’re gonna be fine.”
“Weggies wowk ‘gain?”
“Maybe. We’re going to try to help, Naruto, but you need to be good for us and stop yelling, okay?”
“nawutu wiww twy, daddeh.” He nodded, calming down somewhat. “pwease make weggies bettew. Nee’ weegies fo’ pwayin’ an’ wunnin’ an’ huggies.”
I nodded, and turned to stand, seeing my sister standing in the doorway.
“Bluebell and Brooklyn have made a mess in the dining room, I think the noise scared them…” she looked down at Naruto before quickly averting her gaze, blanching. “Can you pass me the cleaner?”
I nodded, passing her the cleaning box from under the sink.
“Thanks.” she was quieter than usual, I could see on her face that this was a lot for her to deal with.
“I’ve got it.” my mother spoke up, looking at me, before glancing down at Naruto and stepping away a little, speaking in a hushed tone.
“We need to amputate his legs.”
“What?” I said. “We can’t do that! He’ll lose it.”
“I know, but if we don’t, they’ll get infected. Look.” She shoved an article in my face, headed with an image of an extremely sad looking fluffy with a set of withered front legs, looking like it was dancing across the boundary of death’s door.
“Jesus christ… How the hell are we supposed to do that? Who designed these fucking things?”
“Language.” She responded, more out of impulse than anything. “I guess we just… give it some ibuprofen and make it quick?”
I shrugged, being a legal student, not a doctor. “I guess so. This is gonna be nasty, though. We should do it out of earshot, sis is already cleaning the dining room from that outburst.”
She looked shocked. “I can’t do it! It can’t be me, I’m… I can’t. You need to do it. Take him to the shed or something.”
I felt that sinking feeling. This is really going to suck.
“Fine.” I gathered up some of the painkillers from the medicine cupboard, as well as some bandages and a small sewing kit. For the actual amputation, I took one of the bread knives. The saws that they used to get through bone were… well, saws, right? So I presumed that a serrated knife would be the best option. I moved over to Naruto.
“Okay, little guy. We’ve gotta go to the…” I thought for a moment. “Hospital. The hospital is a special room where we’ll make it all better.”
He looked up at me, his eyes lighting up.
“Fix weggies?”
“Maybe, buddy.” I couldn’t lie to him. I wasn’t sure he’d even survive me doing this. Let him have a little hope, at least.
Picking him up gingerly, and holding him in the palm of my hand – being dropped was way at the bottom of his list of worries right now, and even that was making him visibly uncomfortable – I began to head out, before stopping myself. The exit to the garden was through the dining room, where Bluebell and Brooklyn were. I couldn’t let them see… This. I had to take him a different way, out the front… but then the neighbours would see me carrying a bread knife, a load of bandages and a wounded fluffy.
I weighed up the two options, before deciding that I’d rather have an awkward conversation with a neighbour than deal with a traumatised Brooklyn, and headed round the front drive, entering the garden through the side gate.
“nawutu am cowd, daddeh…” Naruto complained, his lack of fluff and the frigid december air making an unpleasant pairing.
“We’re almost there.” I replied, trying to smile down at him, but only managing a grimace.
The shed was a small building, more of an outbuilding than a true shed, that we used to store our bikes over the winter. It wasn’t very warm, and it wasn’t very comfortable, either, but it had a table, and the other fluffies wouldn’t hear what was going on inside – a few years back my brother had taken up the drums and my father had soundproofed the whole building for him to play in. The drum set sat dormant in the corner now, covered in a layer of dust.
I placed Naruto down on the metal table, letting him get slightly more comfortable.
“You need to be good for me, okay?”
He nodded.
“nawutu be good fo’ daddeh.”
I placed the knife down behind him, trying to keep it out of his vision to stop him from panicking.
Taking out the strip of Ibuprofen, I looked at the size of the tablets. This would be far too much for one of his size. I broke it in half, and took a guess. If it was going to be as bad as my mother had shown me, then I had to do this quickly, so I decided to just give him half and go with it.
“Here, Naruto. This will help make you better.”
“dis am bwin’ weggies back?”
“No buddy, but it’ll make the pain go away.”
“make huwties gu 'way.” he nodded, and swallowed the tablet, piece by piece – the whole half was too big for him to take at once.
“nu taste pwetty, daddeh.” he complained.
“I know, buddy. Just a little bit more.”
when he was full of that, I looked around the room, trying to figure out how I’d do this without terrifying the little guy.
“Okay, Naruto. So that you can get your new leggies, I need to get rid of your old ones, okay?”
He looked at me.
“daddeh take weggies?”
“Only the ones that don’t work.” I nodded. “And then we’ll get you some new leggies later.”
He nodded.
“daddeh can haf weggies.”
I sighed.
“Okay, buddy. You need to be brave for me.”
He nodded.
Rolling him over onto his side, I moved one of the old paintings that my sister had done from the wall over to stand just above his frame of vision, giving him something to focus on that would stop him from watching.
“Do you see that nice picture?”
I moved the knife around, getting it lined up on his leg, not touching him with it just yet.
“yes daddeh!” He sounded cheerful.
“Can you tell me what’s in it?”
I placed my other hand around his body, holding him down gently, comfortingly.
“Dere am big baww! An’ am housies!”
I prepared to push the knife down.
“What else is there?”
“Dere am… nawutu can nu swee mowe. Dewe Baww an – SCREEEEEE!”
He yelled as I pushed the knife down. His flesh was light, and his bones brittle, the knife moved through them like they were paper, his bone cracking easily. His leg came away with ease, though not for him. His breathing was heavy, his eyes bugging out as he looked down and saw the knife.
“daddeh wheh huwt nawutu! Nawutu nu mean tu make daddeh angwy! daddeh pwease nu take weggies! Nawutu am huwt! Yu am huwt Nawutu!”
“I know, buddy, I know. Just one more. We have to take away your old leggies for you new ones – your new weggies, Naruto. Think about your new weggies.”
He panted, almost going back into shock as I did my best to fold the flesh over as the guide on my phone was showing.
“Think about your weggies, naruto.”
“daddeh it am huwt! daddeh why?”
“This is for your own good, Naruto. I promise.”
I finished the stiching, glad I’d kept up with embroidery as a hobby after school. I decided not to mess around and just do the second leg, with Naruto staring down this time.
“DADDEH NU! PWEASE! NAWUTU NEE’ WEGGIE! NU TAWKE WEGGIES!”
I ignored him – he’d get it when we explained later, right now I just needed to get this done. He screamed all through the stiches, and all through the bandage that I ran about his front, and all through me wiping down the counter, and then threw up, and then shit, and then screamed some more. Finally, he calmed down, his small body not able to take much more, and he passed out. I sighed, collapsing down onto the old chair that I used for bike maintenance. Christmas morning seemed a thousand miles away now that I was covered in blood after performing what I could only rationalise as a civil war amputation on a small yellow horse.
I’d returned Naruto to my mother, quietly slipping through the dining room after checking that my sister had left with the fluffles. I headed to the bathroom to wash up, and changed my shirt, before checking in on the living room.
“Daddeh!” Brooklyn exclaimed at seeing me. “bwookwyn supweme nu knu whewe daddeh gu, miss yu daddeh!”
I chucked.
“I was just looking after Naruto, buddy.”
“nawutu goin’ be otay?”
“Yeah, he’s had a bit of an accident, but he’ll pull through.”
Brooklyn made the uppies pose, and I lifted him up to my lap, letting him settle down. His fluff was soft, and pleasant to stroke, and he was surprisingly warm, especially for his size.
My sister was sat with Bluebell, who was… very quiet. Both Naruto and Brooklyn were quite loud and boisterous, whereas I hadn’t heard a thing from Bluebell since my sister had taken her upstairs.
“What’d you do to Bluebell?” I asked her, curious now.
“What? Oh, you mean, to keep her quiet?” My sister responded, not looking up from her phone. “Nothing really. Just sorta.” she raised her hand up, and Bluebell cowered back, speaking in a hushed tone.
“Nu huwt bwuebeww, pwease mummeh…”
“You didn’t hit her?” I asked, surprised at my sister.
“No, I just think she’s well trained. I just raise my hand, see?” she did it again, and bluebell was silent.
As I contemplated that, my father glanced in through the door.
“Are you going to take your pets out or what?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“They’re animals, lad. They need to go out for a walk.”
“Oh.” I didn’t really relish the prospect of a cold walk after all that I’d just done. “I’ll… do it later. Brooklyn has had enough excitement for today.”
My father nodded – mother had probably asked him to go easy on me, though that didn’t extend to my sister.
“Come on. I got you some cat leads, which should fit. Head down to the park, chop chop. Only half an hour out.”
My sister rolled her eyes, but relented.
“Fine.” she groaned, getting up and taking the lead, attaching it to bluebell, who quietly, unnoticed by any of the humans around, whined. “It’s like, snowing really hard though. Are you sure?”
“Yes, dear, I am.” Father nodded. “It’s not that heavy, and it’s supposed to stop any minute now. Horses hang around outside in the snow all the time, anyway, and these are just tiny fluffy ones, right? She’ll be fine.”
“Nu wike nu toysie… huwts weggies…”
As my sister made her way to the door, the foal trotted along behind her, stepping out into the cold winter air.
You are Bluebell. You’re only little, but you’ve seen a lot of things. Today was very exciting for you! You got a new family, and a new house, and new fluffy friends! Your new mummeh, who you love very much, is a little scary sometimes, but that’s okay, because so was the man at the shelter and you loved him too.
Her daddeh – the big daddeh, not the small or smaller daddeh – has given her a new toy to put on you. You don’t like the new toy, it hurts your leggies, but it seems like your mummeh likes it, because she is tugging on it. It lets her guide you where to go, like a game! You like games, though you never really get to play them because you need to be quiet for the man… and now you need to be quiet for mummeh.
Mummeh takes you outside! It’s so big and there are so many pretty lights! The house is warm and big too, but it is even bigger outside! There is lots of white stuff on the grounds that is cold when you touch it, and it looks like more of it is coming from the sky! This must be the cold sky wawa that you heard an older fluffy talk about before big mummeh came and took you to your new house.
As mummeh starts walking, you try to follow. She’s moving very quickly, though! That must be the game, you have to keep up! You want to shout and giggle as you follow her but you know that mummeh doesn’t like it when you’re noisy so you try to stay quiet and just hurry after her instead.
She is very quick. She has very big leggies, whereas yours are only very little! You try really hard to follow her, but as you pass a house with big lights, you want to stop and look! Mummeh doesn’t want to stop though, and you feel the meanie toy yank you, knocking you over! You’re on your side now, but mummeh still hasn’t stopped. She’s walking along so quickly, and the meanie toy is tugging at you, making you slide along the slippery floor! It hurts to be pulled along, and you shout out,
“Mummeh, bwuebeww feww ovew! Pwease hewp!”
But mummeh doesn’t hear you! She’s put the long white string things in her ears, like she did when you were in her room. She can’t hear you when she’s wearing those.
As you are pulled along, you bump into a bick rock! You bounce up into the air, before slamming back down onto the ice.
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” that really hurt! You have the biggest boo boo on your leggie, and you can see the booboo wawa on the ground behind you.
Mummeh turns around though.
“Oh, get up, you useless thing.” She crouches down. “I don’t care if you don’t want to go for a walk, you’re going on one. Now get up.”
“Yes mummeh. bwuebeww am sowwy.”
You want to tell mummeh that you fell over but you know that when you tried to tell the man things like that, he would just tell you off and use the sorry stick on you. You don’t want Mummeh to hate you like he did, so you just apologise for what she says you did. You try to get up to your feet, but it’s clear that your leggie is hurt, and you can’t move nearly as fast as you could.
As you try to keep up, you start to realise something. It’s cold. Very cold. You can feel yourself starting to shake as the side of you that was on the ground is all wet and cold. You’re shivering, you can feel your teeth chattering. You look up to mummeh, hoping to tell her how cold you are so that you can go home, but before you speak you see that she puts the white string back into her ears. She must really not like listening to you, to fill her ears with string just so she can’t hear you. She has slowed down though, so you are able to keep up this time.
You do this for many forevers, until mummeh reaches a place that is full of bright colours and fun big toys! They’re so much bigger than you but you can see a slide and a big frame for hiding in and a wheel that spins, and all these human children having fun running around and throwing big clumps of the white things at each other. Even mummeh is smiling at this, and you try to ask her,
“Mummeh, can bwuebeww pway on da pawk?”
But she still has the string in. When she does take it out, she’s taken you away from the park and to some grass besides it.
“Alright, do your business, bluebell.”
You look at mummeh, confused.
“Come on. Go… poopies or whatever.”
You widen your eyes. “bwuebeww nu make bad poopies!”
Mummeh looks annoyed.
“Bluebell, I brought you out to go to the loo, just go.”
You shake your head. You don’t want to get the sorry stick for making bad poopies.
“Nu mummeh pwease! bwuebeww nu need gu poopies!”
You protest.
“Fine, whatever. Let’s go back, then.”
You sigh a sigh of relief, knowing that you’ve escaped the sorry stick for another day.
But that sigh of relief is pushed out of you when you feel something cold and hard hit you on the side!
You tumble over, screaming as you go.
“SCCREEEEEEEEEE! COWD HUWTIES!”
“Hey, what the hell, you little shit?” you can barely hear mummeh say. “Watch where you’re throwing those.”
She crouches down.
“Sorry! I really didn’t mean to!” a boy’s voice responds. “Is your fluffy okay?”
“You still alive, Bluebell?”
You nod.
“yes mummeh.”
Mummeh picks you up. Her hands are so warm and soft, and she shakes the snow off of you. You coo, feeling comforted for the first time in a while.
“you hurt her leg, you little jackass.” mummeh says, carrying you away from the park.
“coo, wuv mummeh…” you snuggle into her.
“Oh my god you’re drenched!” Mummeh holds you away from her.
“You’re soaked, bluebell, jesus. You smell like a wet dog, too.”
Mummeh looks disugsted. She must hate you for being all stinky and gross.
“bwuebeww sowwy, mummeh. nu mean tu smeww stinkwy.” you can feel tears welling up in your eyes and you try your best to hold them back. You’re shivering again, and you’re all wet, and you smell stinky and mummeh won’t hug you. This is the worst day ever.
Mummeh sighs, and carrys you at arms length home. It’s colder and colder now, especially since you’re not moving. You can feel yourself shivering more and more! It would be fun to be moving this much if you weren’t so cold. Your leggie hurts and you’re so chilly, and your entire body is all wet now. Mummeh takes you home, and it seems to take many more forevers than it did before. While when you were on the ground you were shieled from the cold sky wawa, it seems that now that you’re up high you keep getting hit by it, and it’s making you even colder and even wetter. As you can see the pretty lights you’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open, staring at the pretty lights. You’re happy that mummeh is holding you. You like the pretty lights. Mummeh doesn’t seem to be paying you that much attention, she’s shivering a little bit too – her hands are very cold now, and you’re making them all wet, too. Mummeh will be mad for that.
When you get it the front door into your house, mummeh puts you down immedieatly, and goes into the big room that you’re not allowed in. You hear her talking to big daddeh, “Are you sure we’re supposed to be walking these? Also, it was freezing out there, I’m like, so cold. It’s like, a snowstorm or something.”
You hear big daddeh’s response, but it sounds distant, and you don’t think you want to listen anymore anyway. You’re just happy to be at home. It’s chilly in the big house by the door, and you’re still all wet, but you settle down on the rug by the door to rest for a bit. As you close your eyes, you feel yourself slip away into somewhere warm and safe.
While my sister was out with her fluffy, I was upstairs with mine. Brooklyn, probably anxious having been left alone for a while today, had attempted to climb the stairs up to my room, and failing that, whined and begged for help getting up them. I wasn’t particularly pleased – I was anxious about having to clean up another mess – but I relented. It was getting close to time to settle in for the night anyway, and his bed was in my room. As I reached the hallway, I noticed my mother holding Naruto, knocking on my little brother’s door.
“why Nawutu nu have weggies?” Brooklyn looked up at me, shocked.
“He had an accident, pal.” I consoled him. “you need to be nice to him about it, okay?”
“Bwookwyn supweme give huggies, make weggies cum back?”
“No, brooklyn, it doesn’t work like that-” I sighed. “Sure, whatever. Give him huggies when you see him later.”
Sadly, Naruto had seen us. He leant over, pulling away from my mother, trying to get towards me.
“daddeh, hu time tiww weggies?!” He yelled at me. “wan weggies back! daddeh giv weggies now!”
I sighed, looking at my mother sadly.
“Later, Naruto. Only if you’re very, very good.”
He nodded at that.
“Otay Daddeh. nawutu be vewy good fu daddeh, get weggies back…”
As I moved on, not really wanting to look at Naruto anymore, my little brother’s door opened.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “What happened to that?” he pointed to Naruto.
“His legs were badly damaged.” my mother explained. “We had to remove them.”
“Yu take weggies, daddeh?” Brooklyn asked me, quietly.
“No, I didn’t.” I repiled. “They went away because they were hurting Naruto.”
He looked at me, but didn’t say anything. I decided that now would be a good time to leave, and as I climbed the stairs, I heard my brother yelling, “What would I want with a broken toy? Just chuck it out.” followed by loud sobbing from Naruto, and my mother’s reprimands.
“God, he’s a little shit sometimes.” I murmured to myself, placing Brooklyn down in his bed as I began to set mine up. I had to move a big pile of clothes from my bed – I’d wash them later, I’d been saying for about a week now – and left them on the ground, as a reminder to sort it out tomorrow. Setting in, I looked down at Brooklyn.
“You know where your litterbox is?”
“Yes daddeh.”
“So if you need to go during the night, you go to your litterbox?”
“Otay daddeh.”
I nodded, and settled in. I wanted to catch up to a few series, so I set up my laptop and settled into bed, switching off my main light – eliciting a “Screee! Dawkies!” from Brooklyn – and turning on my side light.
I elected to let him sort himself out, after all, he’d have to sleep in the dark if he wanted to be in my room. I’m a very light sleeper, and I can’t have light or noise going on in my room. That had never been a problem when the cat had been around, so hopefully fluffy ponies are at least quiet when they sleep.
A few hours passed, with the only real noise from Brooklyn being the sound of him singing to himself quietly as he stacked blocks up and down in his little nest. It wasn’t loud enough to be annoying and honestly after the day they’d had I didn’t want to bother reprimanding him, so I just left him to himself.
When it was finally time to turn in, I leant over to turn the light off, before looking at Brooklyn.
“Brooklyn, it’s bed time. I’m going to turn the light off, and you need to go to sleep, okay?”
“Otay Daddeh. Night-night Daddeh.”
“Goodnight, Brooklyn.”
I flicked the light off, and while I heard Brooklyn tense, he didn’t complain. I settled into my warm sheets, and found that sleep came easily for me.
Deep in the night, however, while I was sleeping, Brooklyn was still wide awake. He was glancing around the room. It was late, but he clearly couldn’t contain his excitement. While I was sleeping, he decided to explore. He snuck out from his bed, out into the wilds of the room, looking around to see what might be lurking. It was hard for him to see very far normally though, and it was the dark-times, so he couldn’t see almost anything. He wandered out, looking around, trying to find his ball to play with – that would help him settle the excitement in him so that he could go to bed. He wandered around, until he though he saw his ball! Turning his head to look, he felt an impact as he walked into something. It wasn’t hard, but it hurt, and he fell over. He yelled, crying from the pain, and rushed away, losing himself in the maze of boxes and strange things, big faces that leered at him from above, big strange soft things that were in strange containers, a long tube that rolled when he bumped into it. He didn’t stop yelling until he found himself far, far away from where he was, and able to catch his breath.
I had been awoken by this, and the noise from below my bed.
“Brooklyn…” I sighed, slapping around for my phone and turning it’s torch on. “What are you doing?”
Brooklyn couldn’t answer, however. He’d noticed something, and was straining hard. He needed to make poopies, but he didn’t know where he was, or where the litterbox was. He couldn’t hold it, but he tried very, very hard. He saw a big, bright light sweep around and see him, just as he was squatting down to do a poopie on the floor.
As I looked down, I saw what had caused the commotion. There was brooklyn, next to his ball, squatting down to take a shit not two feet from the entrance to his litterbox.
“Brooklyn you little shit.” I was pissed. “It’s not bad enough that you decide to run around playing with your ball at fuck knows when at night, you also take a shit when your litterbox is right there!”
“bwookwyn supweme nu mean tu make bad poopies! Nu see wittewbox!”
“Like hell you didn’t, Brooklyn.” I reached down and shoved him into the litterbox. “Do anything you need to do in there.”
I flicked the light on and grabbed the cleaning stuff to sort out his latest ‘gift’. Were he a dog, or even a cat, I’d somewhat understand, I know that animals like to make noise and need time to be litter trained. But these things could talk. They understood all these complex concepts, they could hold a conversation, for christ’s sake. No, this wasn’t because he’s an animal. This is because he’s a little shit.
“Brooklyn. You’re a bad pet.” I crouched down to his level. “You’re doing this on purpose and I don’t know why, but if you don’t stop, I’m going to get rid of you.”
Brooklyn looked up at me, tears welling in his huge eyes.
“NUUUU! DADDEH PWEASE NU! BWOOKWYN SUPWEME BE GUD FWUFFY! NU GET WID OF!”
“Then don’t shit outside of the litterbox ever again.”
I grabbed him from the littlerbox, (“Bad upsies!”) and shoved him back into his bed.
“Now go to sleep.”
He trembled, but didn’t say a word for the rest of the night.
The next morning, I awoke, much like the rest of the house, to a scream. It was my sister. Brooklyn was awoken by it too, and judging by the SCREEEEEEEEEEE! That he gave out, he was terrified of it. Terrified enough to send a torrent of liquid shit all over his bed.
“Jesus christ, fucking… I’ll deal with you later.” I got out of bed, rushing downstairs. I didn’t have time for Brooklyn’s shit right now. My sister was stood on the staircase, looking down at Bluebell, who hadn’t moved since she came in from her walk.
“What’s going on?” I asked, looking between her and the motionless fluffy.
“I thought she was just sleeping…” she said. “I thought she was just tired and I didn’t want to move her…”
I moved over to the fluffy, and crouched down, as my family gathered from the house to see what the commotion was. I placed a hand against her neck and didn’t even have to check for a pulse – she was stone cold.
“She’s dead.” I looked up at my sister, who burst into tears.
“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to!” My mother moved to comfort her, my father standing dumbfounded, no doubt putting together the same thing that I did – it was the ‘walk’ that killed her. I said nothing. Neither did he.
My brother piped up.
“Naruto died last night…” he looked a little sad, though more neutral than my sister. “I’m not sure what happened to him.”
I shrugged. These things were so much fucking trouble.
As I contemplated this, I saw movement at the top of the stairs. It was Brooklyn. His face was odd, almost slightly darker brown that it usually was, and there was something dripping from his mouth.
“daddeh, bwookwyn supweme give wickie cweans tu da bad poopies su yu nu need make bwookwyn supweme gu 'way nu mowe.” he said, his tone weirdly neutral. It was shit. His own liquid shit, dripping all through the house, all over my room, all the way down to the top of the stairs.
“Wuv yu, Daddeh.” he said, looking at me. “Wuv yu.”
I honestly couldn’t take it. These fucking things were horrifying. Sure, maybe we didn’t know the most about them but jesus christ, what is wrong with whoever designed them?
It took a few hours of talking for my family to reach a conclusion. We’d buried Naruto - who looked like he’d succumed to shock in the night – and bluebell, and left Brooklyn settled on his bed in the kitchen, where at least the floor would be clean, and he could shit wherever he liked.
I was the one who went in to break it to him, carrying the box that he’d arrived in.
“Daddeh?”
“Brooklyn, this clearly isn’t the best place for you.” I crouched down.
“Nu, wuv daddeh…” he protested, gently.
“We’re going to take you to a shelter where they can find someone who can look after you.”
“Daddeh get wid of bwookwyn supweme?” he asked.
“Yes, Brooklyn. You’re gonna go away and get a new daddeh who can love you and look after you.”
“Daddeh nu wuv bwookwyn supweme?”
I sighed. “No, Brooklyn. Not at all.”
He was quiet for the rest of the trip to the shelter, and through the dropoff, the medical, everything. As I turned to leave him behind, as he was about to be taken into the shelter, he looked up at me with big, sad eyes.
“Daddeh?”
“Yes, Brooklyn?”
“Sowwy.”