Overstayed Your Welcome
You’re a fluffy. You live in a little housie at “the shelter”. There are lots of other little housies just like yours, each with a fluffy in it.
You’re pretty happy here. It was scary when they took you away from mummah, but the people here are really nice and give you good nummies and scratchies. You didn’t like when the person in the white not-fluff gave you sharp owies, but he told you it was medicine so you wouldn’t get sickies, so you did your best to hold still and not cry while he gave you more sharp owies. You liked it even less when you went sweepies and woke up with no special lumps. You cried and screamed and begged for your special lumps back, but they wouldn’t give them to you. You had bad heart hurties, even when the nicey man gave you nice pet-pets and scratchies, but eventually you forgot why you were upset.
This isn’t a bad place. You’ve never lived anywhere else, so you have nothing to compare it to, but it’s not bad here. There’s always fresh wawa, the nummies are good and plentiful, your little housie has a nice, soft beddie, your litter box is changed every day, and you get to play with toys and other fluffies in the place at the front. You like it there; that’s where the toys are, and you can see out the window at the world outside. It’s soooo big!
You don’t get to make very many friends though; it seems like every time you have a new friend, they get a new mummah or daddeh and go away to their new housie. You had one friend, a really nice fluffy that was older than you, that you got to keep for a long time. But then one of the nice people said he’d been here too long and took him into the back and you never saw him again. You hope he got a nice new home and a daddeh to love him.
You never get a daddeh or mummah or new home though. Nice people come in and talk to the other fluffies, give them pet-pets, and take them home, but you only rarely get spoken to and get picked up even less often. It used to give you heart hurties that none of them loved you or wanted to take you home, but it’s not so bad. The people here are nice, and you really like the one with the big fluff on his face; he’s extra nice.
Today though, the big nice man with the fluff on his face looks sad as he opens your housie and gives you upsies.
“Why mista am sad? Nu haf saddies, fwuffy wuv yoo!”
You give him the biggest, bestest hug you can. Huggies make everything better. The nice man just looks even sadder though.
“Fwuffy gu pway wif toysies an udda fwuffies nao?”
“No, little buddy. I’m sorry. You… you’ve been here too long.”
You tilt your head, puzzled. You’re not sure what that means. You give him another hug to make his saddies go away, and he carries you over to the counter and sets you on it. You look down and get a funny feeling in your tummeh; it’s so high up! You back away from the edge, notice some blockies, and start stacking them. The nice man is talking to the other man on the other side of the counter.
“Dammit, can’t we keep this one a little longer? He’s a good fluffy, I’ve never seen another that was as well-behaved as him. He deserves a good home.”
“I know, Roy. I don’t like it any more than you do. But if we were a no-kill shelter we’d be massively over-crowded; instead of one fluffy to a cage, it’d be ten. They’d be overcrowded, we couldn’t feed them all, we couldn’t afford the immunizations for them all, they’d get sick, it’d be a nightmare. We have to get rid of the ones that are unadoptable.”
“C’mon, he’s a great little guy. He’ll make some lucky owner very happy, he just needs a chance.”
“He’s had his chance. I already violated company policy and the state regulations by giving him an extra month. Nobody’s going to adopt him, and we can’t keep him forever.”
You look up at the nice people and twitch your ears, then go back to playing with your blockies. You never understand what people are talking about. Big, important things, probably.
“I know that, but this one’s different! Has he ever given you a problem? Ever? He’s never had an accident, he’s always polite and obedient, he gets along with the other fluffies, he’s clean, he’s happy, he’s helpful…”
“Roy, if I make an exception for this fluffy, what about the next one that’s ‘really good’? And the one after that? And the one after that? And the one after that? We can’t keep them forever, no matter how good they are. You know that. If you like him so much, why don’t you adopt him? I’ll even waive the adoption fee.”
“I want to,” says the nice man with the face fluff as he reaches over and gives you pet-pets on your head. You like him so much. You hug his hand back.
“So what’s the problem?”
“Problem is, my place has a strict no fluffies policy. And with my lease agreement, I’m stuck there for another six months, even assuming I could find another place to move into that’s within my budget. They don’t exactly pay us much here.”
“Preaching to the choir.”
“What if I were to adopt him, but we let him stay here? Until I get a new place that’ll let me keep him.”
“Roy, no.”
“C’mon! I’ll pay for his food and litter out of pocket, it won’t cost the shelter a dime!”
“Roy, I’m sorry, but no. We’ve got more fluffies we need to adopt out. We need his cage. I had to put down another fluffy that should have been occupying his cage, but you begged me to give him another month. He’s had a month longer than any other fluffy in this shelter, and he still hasn’t been adopted. He can’t stay here. He has to be put down.”
“Dammit, I… Dammit!”
“I know, Roy. I know. I get attached to the little fuzzballs too. And you’re right, this one has been extra well behaved. But you know the rules, and you know why we have them.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know. It’s just not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair. You want me to do it?”
“No. No, I’ll… I’ll do it. I want to say goodbye.”
“Don’t even think about letting him out the back door, Roy. He wouldn’t make it as a feral, and you can’t afford the fine. The shelter can’t afford the fine either.”
“Yeah. I said I’ll do it.”
“Ok. Steve isn’t here today, so the needle’s out. Use the captive bolt pistol.”
“Right. C’mere, little guy.”
You perk up as the nice man gives you the ‘upsies’ gesture and you crawl into his arms, hugging the fluff on his face. He’s so nice to you!
He carries you into the back of the shelter. You don’t like it here; this is where they gave you sharp owies and took away your special lumps. But the nice man is here, he won’t hurt you or let anything bad happen to you. He sets you on the shiny table and looks at you sadly for a while, rubbing your head. You don’t understand; why is he so sad?
“Nice mista wan huggies? Feew betta?”
“Sure.”
He gives you a big hug, the bestest hug! You hug him back and he sets you on the table again. Then he picks up a shiny metal thing and turns something on a big green tube; it makes a scary hiss that startles you, but you’re a good fluffy, so you don’t make scaredy poopies. The nice man turns back to you and gives you nice pet-pets again.
“You need a name. It ain’t right to leave the world without a name.”
“Fwuffy haf nyu name?”
“That’s right. Your new name is… Sorrow.”
“Fwuffy name am Sowwow? Sowwow wuv nyu name! Fank yoo, mista!”
“You’re welcome, little guy.”
Now he has saddie wawa leaking from his eyes. Oh no! You better cheer him up!
“Sowwow wuv nice mista!”
“I love you too. Now, be a good fluffy and close your eyes.”
You close your eyes, because you’re a good fluffy and good fluffies do what they’re told. You feel something cold press against your forehead.
“I’m sorry.”
Why is the nice man sorry? Did he do something wrong? You peek at him with one eye and-
THOK.
.