Fudge sat huddled as far back into his cage as his podgy, brown frame would allow him to, the sense of despair in his chest increasing with every passing moment.
He screwed his eyes closed and tried to think of happier times, as if concentrating on them hard enough would be enough to take him back there.
He thought of his former owner and in spite of everything, felt a lingering sense of the love he still had for him.
Fudge wasn’t a bad fluffy. Not really. He was just excitable.
His Daddeh had insisted that Fudge was perfectly capable of entertaining himself without going to the park, or even into the garden. In fact, he saw no reason why Fudge needed to do much other than stay home and watch TV.
Fudge had tried. He truly had. But he was young and energetic.
So finally, after one broken household object too many, Fudge had found himself dropped off at the the shelter that he had called home for the last few weeks. They had not been pleasant ones.
The shelter wasn’t a shelter so much as a trading hub for unwanted fluffies.
The trouble was that the people they were traded to weren’t the type of people that any sane fluffy would want to end up with.
Now it was Fudge’s turn to be sold on.
He had been rudely awakened in the early hours of the morning and stuffed into the cage he currently occupied.
The sound of sobbing echoed from the cages around him.
“Huhuhu!”, wailed one “Sugaw nu wan’ tu be nummies fo’ bawkie munstas!”
“Shuddup!”, came the snarled reply of the monster who was watching them.
A metallic clang rang around the room, as the monster’s foot made contact with the cage.
Fudge whimpered and screwed his eyes shut harder.
There was another clank as a door opened and Fudge’s heart sank at the sound of a van backing up. This couldn’t be good.
+++++++++
Andrew watched with relief, as the van he had buzzed into the garage stopped and parked.
The sooner the shitrats were loaded up and taken away, the better. He couldn’t stand that infernal whinging any longer.
The door opened and the driver shuffled out, letting out a hacking, smoker’s cough as she did.
“Fookin’ 'ell”, she grumbled in a heavy Northern accent.
“Where’s Gavin then?”, asked Andrew in suprise.
“Fook knows”, came the grumpy reply. “All I knows is I’ve got an extra stop on my route today. An’ I could do without it an’ all!”
“Bad wowdies!”, came a squeal of distress from one of the cages.
“Shuddup!”, Andrew yelled, giving the cage another of his hefty kicks.
There was another squeal from inside the cage, followed by a suspiciously wet sounding fart.
“STOP THAT!”, the driver snapped angrily, making Andrew jerk his head up in suprise.
“Sorry luv”, the driver continued in a softer tone. “It’s just that they dock me wages if the cages are damaged”.
Andrew nodded understandingly. That sounded like management all right.
He looked at the driver and for the first time, noticed the shock of grey hair trailing out from underneath her cap, as well as the bags underneath her eyes and the unhealthy sheen of her skin.
“Let me help you with those cages”, he said with a smile.
“Oh, you are kind, luv”, came the grateful reply.
The two of them loaded the cages on board, Andrew being far more gentle than he normally would.
“Docking her wages”, he thought to himself indignantly. “And her clearly being old and unwell too!”
Andrew watched the van pulled out and depart down the road with a sense of satisfaction. “There are still some gentlemen left in this country!”, he thought to himself.
Andrew had just finished making himself a tea and was about to sit down, when the buzzer at the gate rang.
“Hello?”, he sighed, as he picked up the phone. So much for his tea break.
“It’s Gavin”, replied the voice on the other end. “Sorry I’m late. You’ll never believe the morning I’ve had. Some wanker let two of my tyres down!”
Andrew’s brow furrowed in confusion. If Gav was outside, then who was that woman?
++++++
The van stood in a lay-byon a deserted country road. There were no cameras along here. She’d checked carefully beforehand.
The driver jumped out the van and pulled off her cap and grey wig, revealing a bob of flaming, scarlett hair.
A quick wipe of her face removed the make up which had provided her pallid complexion.
The overalls came off too and were shoved into a bin bag, which would be disposed of later.
After another quick glance around her, the woman knelt down and taking a power tool from the work bag on the passenger seat, quickly unscrewed the fake license plates which covered the real ones underneath.
She’d practiced this so many times that she could probably do it blindfolded.
The fake plates went in the bag with the wig and overalls.
The woman looked up at the van and felt a pang of longing to climb in and comfort the inhabitants in the back.
But it would have to wait. The longer that she parked here, the greater the risk of running into someone she shouldn’t.
She climbed back into the van and drove off again.
The whole process had taken place in about the same time it takes to hard boil an egg.
++++++
A few hours later the van pulled into the drive way of a spacious looking farmhouse.
A gangly, bookish looking man stood outside the farm house.
Next to him stood a purple mare with a fringe of green mane covering her face, giving her an akward, slightly adolescent look.
Attached to her rump, where her hind legs ought to be, was mini wheelchair, adapted for fluffies.
The van door opened and the mare gave a shrill scream of delight, as she rushed foward as fast as her limited mobility would allow her to.
“Hello Marguerite!”, the woman exclaimed, dropping to her knees and ruffling the mare’s head. “I missed you so much, my darling!”
All trace of the Northern accent had gone now, replaced with a soft but distinctive West Country burr.
“Mummah!”, the mare yelped. “Mawguewite missed yu su muchies tu! Upsies?”, she yelped pleadingly.
The woman undid the straps holding the mare in place and the two of them embraced.
The woman spun the gigling mare around gently, like a parent would if they were playing with a toddler.
“Happy hunting, Pip?”, the bespectacled man asked, watching his sister and her fluffy with a fond smile.
“Mission accomplished, Seb”, Pippa said, returning her brother’s smile.
++++++
Fudge sat in his cage, too despondent to even cry.
He had no idea how long they’d been travelling for. And yet, he suspected that the end of the journey would not be a relief.
And so, when the horrific sound of the vroomie monster finally stopped, Fudge braced himself for whatever was coming next. He just hoped it would be quick.
The door creaked open and Fudge flinched in shock, as the sunlight suddenly flooded in.
A few of the fluffies in the other cages started to plead. Fudge envied their optimism. In his experience, pleading didn’t work.
“Alright, my darlings?”, came a friendly voice. Fudge opened one of his eyes ever so slightly. What kind of mean trick was this going to be?
"I’m sorry you’ve all been back here for so long’, continued the voice. “But you’re all safe now, I promise.”
There was silence for a moment before the air was filled with hig pitched cheering.
Fudge didn’t join in. Surely, this was too good to be true.
“Um…nice wady?”, he eventually pipped up. “Dis nu barkie mosnta pwace?”.
The source of the voice hovered into view, and a kind, smiling face peered through the bars at him.
Fudge’s heart melted. It had been weeks since he had seen a human smile at him with any kind of sincerity.
“No, my darling”, said the beaming face.
“My name is Pippa. Or Pip if you like. This is my farm. And I swear on everything that I’ve ever cared about that no one is ever going to be mean to you again”.
This time, Fudge joined in with the cheering.
+++++++
Fudge jerked awake with a start, his little heart thumping so hard that it felt it might burst out of his chest.
He looked around. Wooden walls were on either side of him. This didn’t look like his cage.
He heard the snuffling sound of the fluffy cuddled up next to him and began to calm down, as he remembered where he was.
The rest of the last bright time had flown by in a blur.
Pippa had herded the fluffies out of the van.
They were all so relieved not to be turned into dog food that there was scarcely a complaint when they were ushered into the shallow bath tub and scrubbed down.
Several bowls of steaming sketti had awaited them, prompting fresh yells of joy.
Finally, they were led to a fenced off area round the back of the farmhouse, where several little shelters stood, each one big enough to comfortably hold a dozen fluffies.
There were a few moans about sharing a house with the poopie fluffies from one or two of the prettier ones, but these were soon dispelled by Pippa ('Now darlings, we’ll have none of that please").
Ultimately though, everyone understood what a narrow escape they’d had and Fudge soon found himself in a fluffpile, where he had slept for several hours.
Fudge got up and arched his back, working the early morning stiffness out of his body.
He was wide awake now. Fudge looked round at the snoring fluffpile. No one awake to talk to.
Fudge wandered out of the shelter into the morning sunshine, enjoying the feel of grass beneath his hooves.
Fudge looked around and gasped in awe at his surroundings. He’d been so tired and frazzled that he hadn’t really taken the time to take in how pretty it all was.
Apart from the farmhouse in front of him, there wasn’t another building in sight.
Green fields stretched off to his left, for as far as he could see.
And if he looked to his right and focused hard enough, he could just about make out where the fields ended and gave way to the ocean.
He took a deep inhalation of breath through his nose. Nothing but good clean air, as different from the stench of the shelter as could be.
Cooing and mumbling to himself contentedly, Fudge trotted over to the farm house. The back door was slightly open.
Fudge hesitated. He didn’t want to get into trouble like he did with his former Daddeh.
But then again, no one had actually told him he wasn’t allowed into the house…
Eventually, the sense of curiosity inate to all fluffies won over and Fudge crept cautiously into the house.
Fudge found himself standing on a stone floor in a large kitchen. A stove stood to one side and a large wooden table on the other.
Pictures of happy, smiling people were dotted all around the wall.
Fudge edged closer.
The picture hanging just above him looked like Pippa. Except she was dressed funny.
She was wearing a strange looking dress.
The kind Fudge had seen in some of the books Daddeh used to read.
And on her head was…Fudge racked his brains. He thought maybe it was called a crown.
“Hewwo”, came a tiny voice from just beside him.
Fudge let out a soft ekkk of suprise and lept into the air.
Standing in the doorway leading into the rest of the house, stood the purple mare he had seen yesterday. Yet another detail he had forgotten in the whirlwind of events.
The mare came trundling towards him.
Fudge tried not to stare at the wheels where her back legs should be.
‘H..hewwo’, he stammered back uncertainly. He hoped he wasn’t in trouble.
“Am Mawguewite”, the mare continued cheerfully. “Fwuffy hab gud sweepies?”
“Fudge hab bewstest sweepies eba”, he replied, his anxiety starting to settle.
The mare didn’t seem to mind him being there at all. Also, Fudge couldn’t help but notice that she was actually rather pretty.
“Dis am pwettiest housie dat Fudge eba seen”, he said.
Marguerite nodded with a smile.
Fudge nodded towards the picture on the wall which had been taking up his attention just a few moments ago.
“Am dat nice wady Pippa?”, he asked.
Marguerite nodded again. “Dat’s wite. Dat am mummeh in wun ob her pways.”
Fudge nodded, although he didn’t have the first idea what a play was. He knew about playing obviously, so he supposed it was something similar.
“Aye”, came a voice from the doorway. It sounded like Pippa but different. Fudge had never heard a Scottish accent before.
“That was my Lady Macbeth when ah was a yoong student. Brought the hoose doon, even if ah do say so maself”.
Fudge and Marguerite both giggled, although Fudge still didn’t really get it.
“How are you today, darling?”, asked Pippa, crouching down and going back to her normal speaking voice.
“Fudge hab biggewst heawt happies, Dank yu, Pippa!”, he paused for a second, uncertain as to whether or not he was about to push his luck.
“Bu’…Fudge hab biggewst hungwies tu”, he eventually added, deciding that nothing ventured was nothing gained.
To his relief, Pippa threw back her head and laughed heartily.
“Well if course you do, my darling”, she said, smiling warmly at him. “You’re a fluffy and you’re awake.”
Fudge cooed and wagged his tail, as Pippa ran her fingers through his mane.
"I daresay all your friends could do with some breakfast too’, she continued, grabbing a king-sized bag of high quality kibble from the shelf.
“Come on then, my darling”, trilled Pippa. “Let’s go and feed the huddled masses, shall we?”
+++++++
Fudge walked alongside Pippa, as they headed back across to the fluffy enclosures. Both of them made sure they went slowly enough for Marguerite to keep up.
“Su dis am Pippa and Mawguewite’s housie?”, asked Fudge.
“Oh my”, replied Pippa. “This farmhouse has been in our family for generations”, she saw Fudge’s face wrinkle. “That means lots and LOTS of brightimes”, she added.
“Me and Sebastian - that’s my brother who you met yesterday - have lived here since our parents died and left it to us”.
Marguerite made a little grunting noise.
“And of course, this is Marguerite’s house too”, Pippa went on. “Ever since I rescued her from that dreadful Milkbag factory.”
Pippa noticed Marguerite’s ears drop at the mention of this and inwardly kicked herself for bringing it up.
“But of course, that was a long time ago, my darling, so we don’t need to think about that now”.
Fudge paused before asking the question he had been too afraid to ask until now. “An…wat happen to Fudge after dis bwightime?”
He didn’t think he’d be able bear a return to his previous circumstances. Not after he’d experienced paradise.
“That depends, my darling”, Pippa said, smiling down at him. “Seb and I have lots of fluffies to rescue and we don’t have room for all of you to live here all the time”
Her heart nearly burst at the look of disappointment on Fudge’s face.
She stopped walking and crouched down so that she was at eye level with him.
“But make no mistake”, she continued seriously. “You will stayhere until we find a decent, loving home for you. Sebastian and I NEVER let any fluffy leave this place with anyone, unless we know they’ll be safe.”
Fudge nodded, accepting what he had been told but hating the concept of staying anywhere other than this place.
He followed Pippa, who had continued to walk again and tried his best to put his thoughts of the future behind.
++++++++
Pippa walked into the living room of the farmhouse, having fed and watered their new guests.
Sebastian sat in an armchair, staring out the window and looking deep in thought.
“Penny for them, Seb”, said Pippa.
Sebastian looked at her quizzically.
“For your thoughts, I mean.”
“I was just wondering how many takers…takers we can trust, I mean…we’ll be able to find for this new bunch. Do you ever worry that we might be biting off more than we can chew, Pip?”
“No Seb.” Pippa smiled at her brother. “Worrying is your job. I’m the reckless, carefree one, remember?”
Sebastian grimaced. He knew that his sister’s remark was meant as a joke. But like all jokes, some truth lay therein.
“Well Phillipa”, he replied, watching her flinch at the use of her full name. “As you’re aware, in addition to staying at home and worrying, whilst you go galavanting on your adventures, I also try and run the farm.”
"Wonderfully well, I might add’, said Pippa, in a tone that was mockly ingratiating.
“It’s getting harder, Pip”, Sebastian continued. “I care about these fluffies as much as you. You know that, right?”
“I know, Seb”, she replied, dropping the levity.
“I want to carry on. I do. But the more we do this, the harder it’s going to get. Quite aside from the logistics, I worry about you. Have you ever considered what might happen if you get caught?”
Pippa didn’t answer. This wasn’t the first time the two of them had had this conversation. It wouldn’t be the last.
The two of them sat together in uncomfortable silence.
After a few momwnts, Pippa gave her brother’s shoulder a squeeze.
It said more than words ever could.
And like that, the moment passed.
“I’m going to stick the kettle on”, Pippa said, after another brief pause.
Sebastian nodded and stood up. “Percy wanted to talk to me about the sheep” he said, standing up to put on his boots and go and find their chief farm hand.
Pippa walked into the kitchen and filled the large, old fashioned kettle, before sticking it onto the stove.
As she worked, she began to think about their next move.
It wasn’t that she didn’t take Sebastian’s worries seriously.
But just this morning, she’d been browsing on one of her hugbox forums and seen that there were rumours a cosmetics factory which had just opened in Wales.
Nothing had been confirmed yet, but rumour had it that they were testing their products on fluffies.
Sebastian wasn’t the only one who had work to do.
THE END
