“…not humane to keep him around if he’s so fucking miserable all the time!”
You grumbled to yourself as the human voice woke you from your blissful slumber.
“Language!” another hissed. “Do we have to go over the meaning of no-kill again?”
“We put down fluffies that are suffering. We put fluffies down that have no quality of life and he clearly doesn’t! He hates everything!”
Humans were always so loud. You grunted as you stretched your pale purple hooves out from your blanket nest, shaking your yellow mane as you rose to greet the day.
“No. If we start euthanizing fluffies just for behavioral issues we’ll be no better than the county shelter.”
“But-”
“I said no. Bring this up again and you’ll be out of a job.”
The door to your room opened sending a beam of bright light from the hall into your cage as Miss Sherry entered with a tray of food balanced on her hip. “Good morning fluffies! Time for breakfast!”
“Yu wouwd!” You shouted over the quiet greetings coming from the other cages. “Yu wake Fwankie up!”
“Sorry, Frankie.” She opened the mesh door and set a bowl of softened kibble in the cage for you. “I’ll let you out as soon as you’re done eating.”
“Hmph.” You waddled over to the dish, curling your lip at the brown slop. Would it kill them to get some proper nummies for you? Still, it was filling and your tummy was complaining. You chewed slowly as Miss Sherry went around feeding all the other fluffies in your room.
You were one of the residents of the “special fluffy room”, whatever that meant. Humans had such stupid names for things. What that meant in practice is that you were housed with some of the biggest dummies the shelter had. No, they couldn’t put you with any normal fluffies because you were “too old” to play with them. You couldn’t get any quiet here, there was always someone crying or singing or babbling nonsense. About once a week you would get sent to the sorry box for trying to get one of these idiots in line. Downright unfair, in your opinion, but if they didn’t want your help they could deal with them on their own. What did humans know about ordering fluffies around? Nothing, that’s what. How could they know more than you, a strong stallion with many years of street life under your wings.
“Am dun!” You called, sitting back from your bowl.
“Just a second, Frankie!” Miss Sherry replied.
You snorted. Humans were always late. Always leaving you waiting for them, no respect.
“Alright, let’s get you your morning TV!” Miss Sherry reached into your cage for you.
“Hey! Cweanies!” You pointed with a hoof to the smears of kibble mush that were sticking to the fluff around your face.
“Yep, got the wipes right here.” You let Miss Sherry pick you up and use a soft wet wipe to take the mess off of you. You didn’t like being held with one hand like this, but whatever it took to get these idiots to do their jobs.
Once Miss Sherry was done cleaning your face she carried you out into the hallway and into the playroom, setting you down on a pile of blankets and pillows.
“The usual?”
“Yus.” You snorted, starting to push the blankets around. Some dumb fluffy ruined your work every day, didn’t they know how blankets should be?
Miss Sherry turned on the TV to your preferred show, “Leggies!”, and patted you on the head. You shrugged her off, busy with your pillow arranging. She sighed as she left the room. Humans were weird.
While the tinkling music of the show started up you finally got everything into position. You had told the people in charge here that you needed these blankets in your kennel but they said you were being “selfish”. What did you care about other fluffies “needing” these blankets, you needed them! The round purple pillow went under your hips, the little blue one in front of it to support your chest. Once you had those in place, you pulled the black starry blanket up to rest your chin and hooves on, perfectly angled to watch the fluffies on the TV run and play. You smiled, watching their antics. It had been a long time since you ran and played like that, the humans said that was normal for old fluffies.
You let your eyes slide shut, comfortable in your carefully crafted bed. If only they would let you sleep in here at night!
“Eee! Nu wan tuch owd fwuffy!” A shrill voice woke you from your lovely dreams. You cracked an eye open, wondering what show had such loud and annoying fluffies on it. Sometimes you slept right through Leggies! and ended up getting woken up by dumber shows like Babies! or that horrible Cinnamummah dummy. Ugh!
What you saw was a gaggle of foals in front of you, staring at you with wide eyed curiosity. You looked around, you were still in your spot in the play room but there were tons of strange fluffies all around you.
“What am dummehs wookin’ at?!” You snapped at the foals.
The smallest pair turned and ran, screeching at a pitch that grated on your hear places. Ugh, foals. One of the dumb humans must have forgotten about you again.
“Sowwy, babbehs jus’-” a red colt at the front of the group started.
“Nu sowwy! Gu way!” You snarled.
The foals scrambled away from you, tumbling over each other in their panic to flee. A little blue foal tripped, slamming his nose into the padded floor. You rolled your eyes as he started to sob, legs splayed uncomfortably around him.
You rolled your eyes, slowly pulling your hooves under you. “Ge’ up, dummeh.”
The foal continued to cry on the floor while his companions watched from behind a few stuffy toys. You waddled up next to him, nudging him with a hoof. “Ge’ up!”
“Huu… nu can…. Weggies huwt!” The foal sobbed.
You rolled your eyes. Another dummeh for you to get in line. “Weggies huwt, dummeh. Ge’ up.”
“…wha’?” He sniffled.
“Weggies away huwt. It am how it is.” You jabbed your hoof into his side, causing him to yelp. “Ge’ up, yu wan be nu weggies dummeh?”
“Nu…”
“Den ge’ up! Fwankie nu cwy about huwty weggies, Fwankie ge’ up! Eben when hab huwties!”
“Buh-”
“Nu buh!” You snapped, kicking him again. “Yu wan Fwankie taek weggies away?” You lifted a hoof threateningly over his leg.
“FRANKIE!” A human voice yelled.
“WHA’?!” You yelled back, not looking up from the foal.
You were yanked roughly into the air, limbs flailing. You looked up to see Mister Tim, one of the other shelter workers, carrying you out of the playroom with a mean look on his face. You didn’t even hear him come in over all the racket the dummies in there were making.
“Put Fwankie down!” You shouted as he carried you down the hallway. The idiot didn’t listen to you, instead entering one of the offices where Miss Sherry sat behind a desk.
“Tim?” She asked, looking confused.
Mister Tim dumped you roughly onto the desk. “Caught this asshole getting ready to attack one of the new foals.”
Miss Sherry paused as you rolled yourself onto your hooves. “Oh… shit, I forgot to bring him back with the new intakes…”
You snorted. “Dummeh. Babbehs wuin Fwankie’s nappies.”
“See? He’s aggressive, he’s unadoptable, can we please-”
“No.” Miss Sherry stood, leaning over you. “I told you, behavior is not enough to justify euthanasia. Frankie, why did you try to hurt that foal?”
You rolled your eyes. “Dummeh babbeh kep’ whinin’ ‘bout weggie huwties. Fwankie twy to teach babbeh bettah.”
Miss Sherry put her head in her hands. “Let me guess, the blue one?”
“Yes, and he was getting ready to-”
“Tim, please be quiet.” Miss Sherry snapped, pulling out some papers. “Frankie, that baby is sick. His legs didn’t form right when he was in his momma’s tummy, so they hurt him very much.”
“Su? Weggies hab huwties, jus’ how it is. Babbeh nee’ weawn to shaddup.” You snorted.
“Sherry, listen to him.” Mister Tim said. “He’s a fucking miserable creature, he-”
“Shut up.” Miss Sherry said firmly, before turning to you. “What was that about leg hurties?”
You groaned. You had to explain everything to these idiots. “Weggies huwt. Fwankie nu am cwyin’ on da fwoow ‘bout it.”
“Do… your legs hurt, Frankie?”
“Yus. Aww weggies huwt, dat am wat weggies du.”
Miss Sherry slowly put her hand over her mouth. “… Who told you that?”
“Nu teww, Fwankie knu!” You stomped a hoof lightly, feeling the familiar jolt of pain shoot up into your shoulder. “Weggies huwt! Huwt when wun, when wawk, when stompies!” You stomped a few more times for emphasis before Miss Sherry stopped you.
“That’s enough, thank you! Tim call the vet, please.”
“On it.” He left the room quickly.
“How long have your legs hurt?” Miss Sherry asked, taking your hoof gently in her hand.
“Awways.” You rolled your eyes. “Aww weggies huwt.”
“Okay, why don’t you finish your nap in here with me until the vet comes to see you?”
You looked around a little, not seeing anything to sleep on. “Nu hab beddie.”
“I’ll go get all the blankets you could want, does that sound good?”
“Awwight. If Miss Shewwy wan.” You snorted.
“Good morning Frankie!”
You yawned, stretching your hooves out from the foam pad in the corner of Miss Sherry’s office. “‘Mownin!”
“How you feeling?” She crouched down, pulling out a bottle of rattle nummies.
“Hmm…” you flexed your leg slightly, feeling the twinge of pain. “Wittow huwties, nu su bad.”
“Alright, let’s start with two then and see how you feel after breakfast.” She shook out two of the little pills and dropped them into your open mouth. You swallowed, running your tongue around your mouth to get rid of the little bit of residue they left behind.
“Tee Bee time?” You asked.
“Yep, I’ll set it up for you right now.” Miss Sherry turned the screen of her computer towards you and clicked around a little, pulling up and episode of Leggies!
You smiled, waiting for the ache in your limbs to fade away. These were the best nummies, feel good nummies! You didn’t know a fluffy could feel so good!
“After breakfast, you want me to bring your friend in?”
“Thot babbeh nu can pway.” You said, not looking up from the screen.
“Yeah, but the vet said he’s recovered from his surgery enough for some light play. I thought you two could push a ball around, maybe play with some blocks? I can bring them in here.”
“Hmmm…” on one hoof, you didn’t want to miss your shows. On the other, it did sound fun to have someone to talk to. “Otay. Tank yu, Miss Shewwy.”
“No problem.” She scratched behind your ear and you leaned into it with a soft coo. “You’re a whole new fluffy, Frankie.”
“Am same fwuffy, dummeh.” You said, rolling your eyes.
“I’m just happy to see you feeling better.” She said, patting you on the head one last time.
