Return to the Faraway Tree (final version)
Michael had moved from the city to be closer to nature.
He would say move but it felt like he was in retreat. Home always felt welcome…
He had roots here and the city had lost its appeal, there was nothing there that made him want to stay. It no longer held the same kind of excitement that it did when he had first moved away from home.
His new job demanded it too, he would be working administrative duties for the forest rangers.
Those guys needed to be paid on time after all, and for all their admin stuff to be handled and they didn’t want to do the indoor stuff.
Michael would be in charge of payroll and administration. Small and safe, the office overlooked the forest.
He never made it in the city, but he didn’t feel as disappointed as he thought he would.
Michael 5 years ago would have been disappointed in Present Day Michael. But Michael from 5 years ago hadn’t lived through what Present Day Michael had.
He wanted to be closer to his family now.
Dad was gone now. Who would be there for mom? His big sister had her own troubles, the twins and they were so young.
What good is living in the city when your partner left you? And it feels like your friends don’t know you no more.
What good is staying when you got your ass fired from what you thought was your dream job?
Dream job? You were behind fucking desks Michael, in front of a computer making sure people were being paid on time and making sure the office had enough staples and paper and computer crap and that the letters went were they needed to.
You call that a dream? What dream? He thought back to himself at 10 years old and he couldn’t remember at all what he dreamed he would become.
Your family needs you, come home and get a job. Who cares if it’s dull and unexciting. Is it better than what you were doing?
What are you missing in the city that you can’t get back home?
He felt it was a mistake to move when he wasn’t ready. He knew it back then.
Why did he push himself like that?
He remembered it felt like a now or never situation, a lot more cut and dry, but he looked back and was it really?
It was just himself and his fluffy now, a stallion he had named Bucky.
Bucky was a unicorn type, dark brown in colour. Bucky loved it when his Daddeh brought him some nummies and gave him huggies. His Daddeh loved him very much.
Bucky had been the one constant companion of Michael’s throughout his time in the city. The one person who was always home to make Michael smile, no matter how shitty his day was. Bucky was always happy to see Michael no matter what.
Hell, Bucky had even came from the woods here too. It was like Bucky was returning home too.
Bucky had at one point been a feral foal. Michael found him as a small foal here in these woods.
Underneath his favourite tree, the willow tree that had been around longer than anyone.
He was alone underneath the willow tree.
Michael used to play in these woods as a boy. It was a pretty big tree and Michael used to climb off it and hang from the low willow branches. He had done many things there. Dates, getting drunk with his friends on cheap and stolen from cabinet booze. He’d always retreat here. Especially when it got too much at home when his dad got sick.
The willow tree brought Michael comfort, it was another constant in his life, and it was the first thing he thought of back home.
Back when he was a kid looking up at the moonlight through the branches of the willow tree, he never thought about being in an office. Or anything. His troubles would disappear as if they were nothing once he hid away here.
Nothing felt real.
It was a stroke of luck for young Bucky, Michael had found him whilst he wandered home through the woods on his final day in town. His friends had thrown him a party out in the woods. No one could disturb them, they could be as loud as they wanted.
Everyone got messed up on cheap beer and vodka.
It was such a good night. Michael thought about that night every year that he thought about when he left home.
His friends had stayed behind, they were so happy for him to leave. “Better things out there than here”.
The trip back through the woods to his mom and pops’ was something he had done before.
Everyone could get through these woods like it was the back of their hand. It was also signposted and a path also went through it.
Any drunk kid could stick to the path and find his way back.
But then Michael wasn’t all that drunk and he decided to have one last walk through the woods, maybe it would be the last time he saw it.
The willow tree.
Would the willow tree be there as it had always been for him? Why not climb it one more time? One last time looking up at the sky.
And there he found Bucky, whimpering and crying out. His mother looked like she was asleep.
Looked like. Her body did not move. Or breathe.
Bucky was alone, god knows what happened to his family. Fluffies always have such large litters. To see just a mom and her foal felt pretty sad.
The woods were pretty cold too. Autumn was fast approaching, and the temperatures would soon plummet quickly to the point that you would never see a fluffy here alive.
The foal had looked up and begged for Daddeh to help his new mummeh.
Michael remembered it like it felt like yesterday. The poor foal had such sad eyes.
The fluffies were both dark colours. A dark brown colour that felt quite natural for these fluffy creatures. You could often see fluffies at night due to their brightness.
And persistent sound. Michael had heard tears and crying before he had approached the tree.
Michael took the young foal in and they both left to go back to the city. The mare was left behind. What else could he do for it?
That was 5 years ago.
A lot of time passed. It felt both quick and that everything happened in a flash, and yet it felt like it dragged enough on some days. What is time passing by?
Bucky had loved the apartment that Michael had moved into. Michael thought it looked better in the pictures. The first place was so small and cramped and the heating going on and off at random intervals was infuriating as it was unexpected.
Bucky loved his new home and was able to make the best of it. He had found the cosiest corner close to the radiator. A cushion to sleep on and a few toys.
They say that fluffies have to be kept in certain conditions to be healthy. The room must be draft free, floor carpeted, well ventilated and lit to truly thrive.
Bucky would sleep in the living room in that corner underneath the radiator but under a window that wasn’t exactly enough to keep the drafts out. Or in a position to get a lot of light.
But Bucky made do. And he always knew how to make good poopies. In a tray prepped in the bathroom that was unfortunately poorly ventilated and with mould growing in corners.
And then you add fluffy poop to the mix. This is probably why Michael barely brought people over. They’d eventually come out with a nose that just didn’t work.
Despite how cramped and uncomfortable the place could get, especially with heating that went on and off at random in the middle of a bad winter, somehow Michael had made it work.
Bucky was always the one who kept the place together. Just through being there. He didn’t get the concept of work, or what exactly Daddeh did when he went out, but he always made sure he would be the first thing that Daddeh would see when he walked in.
Though they stayed longer than Michael would have wanted, and moved to different places across town. Bucky always made it feel like home, like Michael was actually doing this shit for a reason.
It wouldn’t be home without him.
There was nothing here that Michael felt attached to. He didn’t grow up here, he didn’t know these people. He thought of mom back home, dad who may not live all that long. He thought of Ellie and Sammie, and Max, Josh, Zack and Braxton.
He thought of Mr Smith, the horrible driving instructor who terrorised most everyone who got in his car. And Mr McNally who was an awful neighbour and would often harangue and terrorise everyone in the street.
He wouldn’t miss those guys. But the others……
He was glad that Bucky was always around for him.
Do you know how long a well-looked after fluffy tends to last for?
Without injuries or accidents, a fluffy can live healthily up to 5 years of age.
Emphasis on healthy here.
At 5 years and older, that’s were the problems start. And they can be numerous.
The joints and flesh are a particular problem, they tend to weaken over time anyway and older fluffies often suffer more frequent cuts and slow healing wounds as they age.
Their bones are often brittle even from birth and don’t exactly strengthen with age. They fracture like plastic shards with age and with use and abuse and friction.
It’s very uncomfortable for them but treatable. And expensive.
They also require a more specialised diet, something more easy to digest but still rich in nutrition. Fluffy purée is a must for both young foals and greying fluffs alike.
Kibble is pretty cheap but it’s not the easiest to digest for fluffies with compromised digestive systems.
Continued kibble use can result in twisted stomachs and in extreme cases, a perforated bowel.
Although Bucky was lucky not to develop the osteoporosis that would normally afflict them, and he was lucky his Daddeh was able to give him the nummies that he needed for no tummy hurties, mentally he was deteriorating.
It started one evening when Bucky began to wail, he had made bad poopies outside of his litterbox.
It was very unusual for Bucky to make bad poopies. He had soiled himself where he had stood and wailed out in confusion and cried.
Michael didn’t like punishing him, but he had to, the sorry stick was taken out and swiped hard across Bucky’s rear. Michael took care not to swipe anywhere else otherwise it may harm his fragile body.
The sorry stick hadn’t been used in so long, a layer of dust had covered it.
The last time it was used was following his move into his final apartment in the city. Bucky had gotten himself confused about which door was the bathroom. A lot of the doors looked alike.
He wailed out in pain, tears in his eyes, he looked up at Michael’s eyes and the look was of shock and pain and confusion.
Like he didn’t know who Michael was.
And then there were more strange incidents. Strange for Bucky, it was so unlike him.
He had begun to fight with other fluffies at the nursery.
He wailed out and screamed when anyone attempted to pick him up or went anywhere near the toys that he was playing with. He even struck out against other fluffies and wailed out and begged for no hurties.
He had been going to the nursery for years. He had looked at the attendants who had cared for him with confusion, even asking if they were his Mummeh.
His eyes lit up whenever they met Michael’s, he would often look up and call him “Daddeh” as if it was the first time.
The incidents had become more and more frequent. Michael was beginning to feel more and more frustrated at Bucky.
He was soiling the carpets and anywhere around him. He had lost complete bowel control.
The landlord was becoming more impatient and less understanding with how Michael was handling Bucky. He liked fluffies but his other tenants were able to keep the place clean and make sure that fluffies couldn’t damage property or carpets or make a nuisance of themselves.
Michael decided what was best for Bucky and Bucky had to wear diapers now. He was too slow for the litterbox, and even when he was close he wouldn’t know what the fuck it was used for.
He had flailed whenever they were put on and cried and tried pathetically and unsuccessfully to get it off.
The feeling of the poopies against his butt and when they became cold is a very unpleasant feeling for all fluffies.
Bucky was becoming more unmanageable and expensive to keep.
Between the increased costs of cleaning products, there was the fluffy purée and the fluffy diapers too.
This was manageable for Michael. He barely could save but he could manage this.
But Bucky’s constant emotional outbreaks were often unpredictable. And tiring.
Bucky had been quiet between each outburst. Fluffies are so normally chatty and are always making sounds and babble that you just get used to it.
The only sound Bucky could make frequently was crying and wails and cries for him mummeh.
Bucky would mope and cry in the corner while he soiled his diaper and then 5 mins later flail out not knowing he had made poopies or cried that he couldn’t make the litterbox.
And no matter what Michael tried to bring Bucky back out of this terrible spell of behaviour, nothing worked.
Old routines which were followed perfectly no longer worked. It no longer felt like a joy to see Bucky walking in from work. What had happened to him?
Michael felt bad but he felt better seeing Bucky asleep. He just didn’t know when to expect to be greeted as “Daddeh” or as “nyu Daddeh hab nummies?”
Michael had always made an effort to keep Bucky close in the living room, it had always been like that with each apartment.
But Michael made space in the spare room for Bucky to settle and kept all of his fluffy supplies in the room. And his toys to keep him preoccupied and not distracted. Michael had stopped taking him to the nursery once he blinded another fluffy in the eye.
He was getting tired of how erratic and unpredictable Bucky would behave. To keep him at home was the safest bet now. He would only be a trouble to Michael.
Bucky wasn’t even able to stack his blockies like he used to. The blow up ball was a thing to attack. He smeared the paper with his poopies rather than paint and make colourful hoofie prints. He’d attempt to eat away at the paint instead.
Bucky was miserable, thoroughly miserable.
And one evening, Michael had got back from work and had found Bucky’s room completely smeared with faeces with Bucky also coated in them.
Michael swallowed his anger but it felt like it came up like bile and left a horrible taste in his mouth.
The day he got fired and he comes home……to this?!
He felt his fists tighten and a strain in his neck and he felt himself tense up to lash out.
He felt like he wanted to be rid of Bucky now. He was far too much to take like this.
The diaper had filled up enough and Bucky had somehow got it off and had eaten part of the poopies smeared along his mouth too.
It was disgusting to behold. And in the middle of the room was Bucky in tears.
And in the middle of the room he told Michael that he was Bucky now and that he was so scared.
And Michael felt his fists unclench and a shock went through his system.
He felt disgusted in himself. Bucky had been there through whatever trouble that Michael had went through and was there when he had that awful break up and at the times when he felt most at his loneliest.
And the night that dad died too. Bucky gave his Daddeh the bestest huggies he could. He had never seen his Daddeh with so many heart hurties.
Michael took Bucky to the vet. He really wished he had more time to take him before. But why hadn’t he? But there were no more excuses now.
The vet confirmed the reason for Bucky’s deterioration. Nor was it hard.
Fluffies chatter and babble constantly as a way of reminding themselves they exist. Bucky’s quietness was a sign of his deteriorating brain. A common sign in fluffies is that they eventually go silent with a deteriorating mind.
As if they forget they exist and then a thought or a voice from themselves shocks them back into existence. Frightened by the void.
Fluffies at 5 years of age can develop a kind of dementia, reverting mentally back to the time they were foals. Just like dementia, Alzheimer’s in humans, it’s not pretty to witness in a fluffy as it is to witness a human go through it.
His short term memory had gone now. He relied purely on programming, the base at which fluffies derive their words and behaviours.
The world was full of new surprises and new horrors everyday. Michael had become so used to being asked if he was his new Daddeh that he no longer minded and became part of Bucky’s care.
Michael was advised he could only make Bucky comfortable. Especially as Michael didn’t want to go through the final step of euthanising him.
Michael had known all about the button in the neck of all fluffies that permanently turns them off. He had considered doing it to Bucky that horrible night he covered the room with poopies.
He had been looking at ways to tell if a fluffy is broken when he looked things up online to explain Bucky’s behaviour.
A lot of links told him to press the button in the back to end his suffering. Not that it works all the time. Pressing the button either permanently switches the fluffy off, or leaves them alive suffering permanent paralysis and extreme pain.
Not even Hasbio could get its own turn off button right.
It was also a pain to locate the small hard button in the neck behind all that mane hair. But Bucky was his friend and he deserved to at least be treated with some kind of dignity.
Though that’s hard to remember when you’re treating infections and sores on his ass. Diaper rash is hell for all fluffies.
The vet had asked if Bucky should be switched off humanely, with an injection as there was no cure for this, and he would only suffer more with time and would eventually convulse and fit with seizures.
Like the final stage of wan die but without the realisation of suffering.
Michael refused. He couldn’t do it.
Bucky would be cared for with dignity. He just couldn’t switch him off like that. It would truly feel like the end, his last remainder of him would finally be gone.
He couldn’t bear to be without Bucky and promised he would do what he could for Bucky’s final days.
The vet wrote out the bill and prescription of sedatives and vitamins, a very weak sedative to relax Bucky and help him sleep more comfortably.
Bucky wasn’t long for this world.
And then one day Michael had an interview with a council office for a job.
The job was back home too.
It felt like a sign. And Michael wasnt sure what it meant at first. But he really missed home.
He did so well at the interview, one of the guys who interviewed even recognised him from his time back home. It helped a lot.
And Michael got accepted for the job. Things had turned up shit in the city. What was keeping him here?
Maybe coming home would be best.
Best for Bucky.
Taking him through the woods for walks, feeling the breeze and seeing the birds and the trees. He would be comfortable back home. Mom always thought he was a cutie.
One last adventure for Bucky. He deserved that.
The woods were pretty this time of year. Spring was here, the buds were growing and the air smelled beautiful.
Michael breathed it in and it was just like his childhood here.
Nothing changes here.
The woods where Michael had first found Bucky after all.
Under the willow tree.
Bucky himself was enjoying his walk. In fact he hadn’t looked this healthy or happy in a long while.
He had been smelling the pretty flowers and looking up at the sky munstahs and saying hewwo.
He looked so happy being out here.
It had to have been cooped up in that apartment and in that room for so long. Male fluffies they say love being outdoors and love adventure.
Did he remember here?
But he was so young back then he couldn’t know.
Thinking back if he’d have been left in the woods, Bucky wouldn’t have survived for long. Not without his Mummeh.
His full brown fur wasn’t exactly attractive, he’d have been a poopy any other time and his horn would have led him to be shunned as a smarty by everyone else.
Who’d have picked him up?
It felt like fate that he was saved by Michael. That Michael would take a reminder of the woods with him to the city.
Bucky, he was a good fluffy, well-behaved and cheerful and he didn’t mind when Michael would dress him up as something dumb or play with him at home or occasionally tease him. Bucky just loved being with his Daddeh.
He was more than a reminder of home to Michael.
Today, Bucky wore a fluffy-sized fleece coat to keep him warm. Spring was still pretty brisk and older fluffies need that extra padding to keep warm outdoors.
Michael took the diaper off Bucky after the car journey into the woods.
He knew Bucky didn’t like it, why not just keep it on for when it’s really needed? Who would care that a fluffy would shit in the woods?
Bucky immediately felt free and a sense of relief after it was removed. You could tell from his disgust and then his happiness. Fluffies are very easy to read. A quick wipe down kept his ass clean and he was able to freely wander close to daddeh.
Bucky was there for all of the big things in Michael’s life.
He was a big part of Michael. He gave him very little trouble. Unlike his partner…….and his old job.
He couldn’t help but think of dad. His partner had left him the night before. Michael tried calling. No response. Not even to texts. Completely ghosted.
Only Bucky was there for him.
As he was everyday.
And all he could ever understand was that his Daddeh had heart hurties. And it was more than just enough, it was needed.
Michael wasn’t sure how long they had been walking, he had carried Bucky a good part of the way, his fluffy legs unable to keep up and he tired easily.
And then Bucky spoke up. His voice was so clear.
“Daddeh can pwee stop hewe? Pwee?”
Michael stopped and looked at Bucky.
Why did he want to stop?
Then he saw in front of him, where he had found Bucky originally.
The willow tree. Looming as large as it ever had.
How had he not noticed?! He had walked this path many times!
“Can Pwee hav westies unda pwetty twee pwee daddeh?”
“Yes of course Bucky, I’m tired too. Let’s sit down for a bit. Not too long though”
“Yes daddeh tank oo”
Michael settled down, Bucky at his side. He looked like he wanted to sleep.
The wind rustled and blew between the willows. Michael liked the smell of the blossoms and he could understand why Bucky would want to stop here.
Had he recognised this place? How could he?
Looking at him now compared to back then when he was a foal, like two completely different fluffies.
Bucky was content looking at the swaying of the willow tree.
It was soothing to the eyes, the willow was rocked gently but the breeze. Certainly good for the soul.
And Michael thought of each time he came here as he looked at the rocking willows.
He had escaped from a lot of the bad shit sure but he had a lot of good times here too.
He had ran here the night his mother broke down looking after dad. How could she do that?! He was so furious but he just couldn’t face it and he ran here.
Looking back he felt so stupid. His mother had took care of dad with little rest and did everything she could.
It was hard back then on mom.
But underneath the willow tree though…,
It was like all of your problems were far behind.
They didn’t matter here.
“Daddeh can Bucky stay hewe?”
Michael turned to Bucky, “no Bucky, it’ll get cold and lonely here. You’re not well and you need all the Huggies you need back home with me. This isn’t a place for fluffies”
“Bucky miss nyu mummah”
“What? But Bucky, you don’t have a mummeh you only have me”
“Daddeh, befow oo sabe Bucky fwom scawies was wi nyu mummah hewe unda pwetty twee”
“But Bucky, how do you remember this place? And your mother?! You don’t remember anything. You’re very sick Bucky”
“Am sowwy daddeh, Bucky fowget, Bucky awways mak bad poopies. Nu wike dypee su poppy su dummeh. Bucky wan go sweepies, Bucky misses nyu mummeh. Bucky wan gu foweva sweepies wi nyu mummeh. Bucky nu wike dis.”
“…Bucky……”
“Nyu mummah sabe Bucky wike daddeh. Giv Bucky huggies and nummies unda pwetty twee. Nyu mummah go foweva sweepies hewe unda pwetty twee. Miss nyu mummeh. Wan sweepies wi nyu mummeh”
Bucky shed tears now.
He was usually crying if he had an accident (which was often) but this was different, he looked really sad.
Like the night where he had ruined the room and covered it in shit.
He hadn’t wailed and he hadn’t screamed out, this was different.
This was like it was Bucky again. Like Bucky was here now.
Something in Michael felt like this was the last time he would see the real Bucky, he hadn’t ever been this coherent in a while.
“Pwee daddeh, Bucky wan go foweva sweepies hewe wi nyu mummah. Bucky am sweepies, feew sweepies, feew am nu Bucky nu mo. Pwee Daddeh, Bucky wan stay”
Michael felt something drop in his chest. A hole in his chest that could swallow everything.
“Bucky………I…”
He began to stroke Bucky across his head, Bucky rose his head up slowly appreciating the stroke from his Daddeh.
Michael picked up Bucky and hugged him.
He hugged him like the way Bucky hugged him after dad died.
“Wub oo daddeh”
“I love you Bucky. I’ll miss you. You’ve been the bestest, most goodest fluffy ever………… I love you”
Michael started to cry, the one friend he had taken to the city, this would be the last time he would ever see him.
Bucky was there during that hard move, settling, living, loving, all the successes (which there weren’t many of) and failures (which there were plenty).
Bucky had loved his master when no one else would and loved him unconditionally.
“Daddeh oo gib huggies wike nyu mummeh. Wi miss oo an Bucky Wub oo daddeh. Tank oo fow sabing Bucky”
“Goodbye Bucky”
“Wub oo foweva daddeh”
Michael had settled Bucky into a comfortable patch under the tree. He’d be cosy here and he could see the willows rock and sway.
He loved it here.
Michael took one final look at Bucky as he walked away. He didn’t expect to lose his friend today.
Bucky was in tears, but a smile lit across his face.
He hadn’t looked this happy in a long time. He had been scared all the time and frightened. All of the fear was gone now.
His troubles didn’t matter here.
A weak, wan smile but he was home with his nyu mummah and he could sleep forever.