The Daltons were a couple which had no children, though they did have quite a lot of money. Kathleen had bought a precious little fluffy mare from a breeder one day to fill that child-sized hole in her life. Her husband, Kenneth, was perfectly fine with the idea as long as she didn’t adopt one from a shelter.
“Why would anyone want a shelter fluffy? I’ve seen them on those commercials with their sad eyes, frail bodies, and Sarah McLachlan music. She’s from Canada, Kathleen. Canada!” Kenneth shook his head while puffing a cigar, his wife giving an audible gasp at the horrible factoid.
So they’d adopted the pink sweetheart which Kathleen immediately named Prissy. To her credit, Prissy really lived up to her name. She always talked in a sing-songy lilting tone and tiptapped around the house on her hooves like she owned the place. She wouldn’t eat the kibble which the breeder advised. It hurts her little precious teefies! Or so her mummah claimed. Sketti? That wasn’t good enough either. It had to come from a restaurant from a guy who spent his whole life perfecting the most excellent of sauce. Water from the TAP? Her water was poured over diamonds before being bottled and served in a golden water dish.
Kathleen truly loved her and put up with her bloating sense of entitlement and arrogance. So much so that when Christmas rolled around, she took her truly beloved childhood bear and tucked it away into a box. Prissy would cherish Mr. Paws as much as she had when she was a little girl.
When the big day finally rolled around and Prissy woke up bright and early (singing and dancing at the foot of their bed too, to rouse them), her loving owner couldn’t wait to see her open the sentimental gift. First were a few things which didn’t mean as much. A silk blanket, a special pass to appear on one of her favorite FluffTV programs, normal things. When Prissy excitedly ripped open the package containing Mr. Paws though…
“Wut am dis? Stinkeh owd stuffy-fwend! Poopie stuffy-fwend!” Prissy teared up, took the bear and savagely shook it around.
“Good Heavens, Prissy! Be careful, he’s very special…!” Kathleen attempted to reach out but the damage had already been done. The bear had been tore into pieces, bits of stuffing flying everywhere.
“Mummah dun wub Pwissy! Mummah hae Pwissy!” She stamped her hoof on the floor several times, then ran over to the tree. Grabbing hold onto a branch with her mouth, she sent it tumbling down with a scattering of glass baubles and other ornaments.
“Kathleen! Control her. Good God!” Kenneth gave the admonishment, though he had only been half-paying attention. The news was on and it was incredibly important that he saw them talk about some minor political issue for the sixth time that hour.
His wife attempted to catch the fluffy but she squirmed away and skittered over to an end table. An end table containing a very precious object.
“Prissy! No! Mommy’s sorry. Don’t…”
Kathleen watched as Prissy rammed the end table over and shattered the urn containing the ashes of her late mother to the floor. A poof of her Earthly remains wafted into the air, the mare stamping all around in the mess.
“Mummah wuin cwismas! Dummeh mummah! Pwissy haechu!”
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The art was commissioned from @LaPonkisuwu
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