The little fluffy was still crying an hour later as John lowered her into a top-loading cat carrier, one that had proven to work really well with Sasha. He was surprised that the little thing hadn’t run out of tears or energy yet. She’d protested a little when he’d held her over the toilet and gently squeezed all the shit and piss out of her to prepare her for the trip, but she didn’t really struggle or fight. All of the fight seemed to have drained out of her. The fluffy didn’t know what was happening, exactly, but she knew two things - one, she was having to leave the safest place she’d ever known in her short life, and two, this nice human was never going to love her no matter how much she loved him.
She had the biggest heart hurties, bigger than she’d ever thought possible. She had huge heart hurties after losing her whole family, and now these heart hurties on top of the OTHER heart hurties were just too much to bear. The nice human had cleaned her up. He’d fed her good food. He’d given her a warm place to sleep and had even given her treats when she followed his litterbox rules. She’d tried not to ask for too much because she knew anything she got was a gift to be treasured, and her mother had told her that the humans didn’t respond well to fluffy demands. She wanted to be the best fluffy, but more than that she wanted to be the best fluffy for him. She felt safe in his house, even with the kitty monster there. She felt safe when he was holding her. He had a kind voice, a kind face, and he was gentle with her.
She loved him and wanted more than anything for him to be her new daddy. But now he was putting her in a sorry box, and they were inside one of those big vroomy metal monsters, and she was going to cry until she curled up and took forever sleepies. Everyone she loved was dead. Now she wanted to die, too.
The metal vroomy monster was really loud and scary, but she barely reacted in her fear. Even if she hadn’t been forced to void her bowels and bladder earlier she wouldn’t have cared enough to react with scaredy poopies. She wanted to die anyway, so what did it matter if the metal monster gave her forever sleepies? If it didn’t give her forever sleepies then something else probably would. Probably soon, too. She burrowed into her little blanket as deeply as she could and hid from the noises, hid from the world, and tried to hide from her pain. Her tears soaked into the blanket until they finally ran out. She sniffled for a minute, then gave up as the rest of her energy left her. The fluffy was drained. She closed her eyes and went silent.
===
“Hey, little girl. It’s okay now. We’re here.” John lifted the cat carrier out of the passenger’s seat and peeked in to see the little fluffy.
No response. No movement beneath the blanket.
“Little fluffy?” He peeled back the blanket and leaned in to inspect her. She was curled up in a ball with her eyes closed. As he watched he noticed that her side was rising and falling slowly and rhythmically. He called to her a few more times, but she absolutely refused to answer him. Other than her breathing there was no indication that she was even alive. He sighed, feeling like even more of an asshole. It wasn’t over yet, either. John knew he was going to feel like the world’s biggest prick by the time this was over.
John walked through the door, and a woman behind the counter looked up from her phone and smiled.
“Hey there,” she said. “What have you got for us?”
John paused for a moment, unable to find words. She was incredibly pretty. Slender. Dark hair down to her chin, and cut in a way where it constantly fell over her left eye. Glasses, which was one of his dumbest weaknesses when it came to women. She looked like she might be in her mid-twenties, as opposed to his mid-thirties.
“Uh, yeah,” he said, setting the carrier on the counter. “I’m John.”
“I’m Rebekah, but that doesn’t answer my question. What’s in the carrier?”
“Oh yeah, right.” He reached in and pulled the bundled fluffy out, setting her on the wide counter. “Her whole family got killed by a cat, right in front of her. She ran away and I was able to keep the cat from killing her, too. She’s, uh, been through a lot in the last day. But now she’s not responding to me at all.”
Rebekah pulled the blanket away and bunched it around the fluffy, then lifted her up to inspect her. The fluffy dangled limply in her hands, not complaining or giving any indication that she was awake. “Little girl, are you with me? Little girl?” No response. “Well, let’s see how old you are.” Rebekah placed the fluffy back in the blanket and pried open her little mouth, inspecting her teeth. “Looks like they probably just came in few days ago. She’s due a serious growth spurt. Like, a lot.”
“Yeah, it honestly looked like she’d grown overnight. I thought maybe I was imagining it.”
“Oh, no. She’s a little under five inches tall now. Give her a month, she’ll be a foot and a half, maybe a little more. Earthies get a little bigger than other fluffies.” Rebekah looked up at John. “When did she stop being responsive?”
He sighed again. “Earlier this morning, right before the trip.”
“What happened before the trip?”
“Well, I fed her. She used the litterbox last night, just like I’d told her to, so I gave her a treat like I promised. Then I, well…then I told her we were coming to the shelter. I’d already told her that I wasn’t going to keep her, but it’s like she was sure I’d change my mind.”
Rebekah nodded. “It’s in their programming. To an extent, anyway.” She prodded the little fluffy. “Little girl? Are you in there?” She pulled the little fluffy’s legs very lightly, trying to pry her out of being a ball. She immediately pulled herself back into a ball. One, two more times Rebekah tried it, talking to her softly. The third time produced a different result.
“WEAVE FWUFFY AWONE! WET FWUFFY DIE! FWUFFY JUS WAN DIE! WAN DIE! WAN DIE!” The little fluffy shrieked as loud as her little lungs would let her, and she curled back up in a ball and muttered “wan die, wan die, wan die” to herself. Rebekah stared at Mark, trying to not assume the absolute worst.
“You stay right the hell there,” Rebekah said as Mark’s mouth opened in shock. “And you’d better have a goddamned good story when I get back.”
Rebekah stepped over a baby gate and walked down the hall, stopping in the second room to the right. She stepped over another baby gate and looked down at the assorted stray fillies who were playing and laughing.
“Hello, fluffies,” she said.
“HEWWO NICE WADY WEBEKUH!” they shouted, almost in unison.
“I’ve got a nice little fluffy here who’s been through a lot. She says she wants to die. Will you take care of her until I get back? Give her lots of huggies and love? Try to make her feel better?”
A little blue and white pegasus stepped up immediately. “Fwuffies hewp nice wady! Gif huggies and wuv tu widdwe sad fwuffy, make fwuff piwe.”
“Thank you. I’ll be back soon.” She sat the little yellow fluffy down in a blanket, and six or seven little fillies dutifully trotted over and started peppering her with nonsense talk. The pegasus started to hug her. The fluffy was safe for now. That settled, Rebekah headed back to the counter.
“Now tell me how the hell you got a little filly stuck in a ‘wan die’ loop in a day.”
“What the hell is a ‘wan die’ loop?”
“It’s all she’s saying. When a fluffy has given up completely, when it doesn’t want to live anymore, it just repeats that it wants to die over and over again. The trauma of her family getting killed in front of her could have been part of it. It usually happens when they’ve got a broken heart. And before you laugh, yeah, fluffies can actually die of a broken heart.”
“No shit?”
“No shit. Now tell me everything from start to finish.”
So Mark told her everything. The rescue, the bath, the incident with Sasha. The new bath, the food. How the fluffy kept telling her she loved him, how she said he was the best human. How she kept hugging his thumb and nuzzling him. How she insisted on curling up in his lap while they watched TV. How she used the litterbox, how she went crazy over the treat. All the declarations of love, how she kept trying to call him “daddy.” How it all fell apart when she realized that she absolutely was going to the shelter.
Rebekah listened to him, and looked him over while he talked. First, he was a lot nicer than most people would have been in the same situation. Most people she knew would have let the cat have the fluffy as a snack. Hell, some of them would have picked the fluffy up and tossed it right back to the cat. Even if they did save it, even if they had good intentions, they probably would have immediately dumped her off at a shelter. But he didn’t. He actually cared. He had a heart.
And he was kind of cute. Not a lot taller than her, maybe medium height. Dark hair with strands of silver throughout, and he was starting to grey at his temples, too. Still, he looked like he might only be in his mid-thirties. Barrel chest, stocky. Piercing blue eyes. He looked strong. And he had a very kind face. He looked genuinely worried.
“They’re programmed to say that they love people,” Rebekah said.
“I know.”
“But here’s the thing - they’re programmed to get over rejection pretty quickly, so when they say they love someone they’re usually just saying it to get something. One person won’t give them something or be their daddy, find. They’ll move on to the next one. You already know that fluffies are less of a guilt trip and more of a guilt world tour.”
He chuckled. “Isn’t that the truth.”
“But she’s not getting over the rejection. Did she demand any of the things you did for her?”
“Oh, no. She didn’t demand anything. She asked for some of them, very politely.”
Rebekah looked surprised. “Wait, you found a feral that ASKED for things? POLITELY? AND she used the litterbox when she hadn’t ever seen one before? Then the second time she ASKED you to take her to the litterbox so she could do her business?”
“I, uh…yeah?”
“Shit, you found the holy grail of ferals. Yeah, that convinces me even more. Here’s the deal - she isn’t just saying it. She actually loves you. You’ve been nothing but kind to her, nothing but understanding. You rewarded her for remembering things, for her good behavior. And now you’ve broken her heart.”
“Jesus. I didn’t know.”
“Now you do.”
“Well,” he asked quietly, “what happens now?”
“We see if she comes out of her ‘wan die’ loop. What are the chances of you taking her back home and keeping her?”
“I can’t. I have a cat. I can’t let that happen to her.”
“Gotcha. Well, if she doesn’t come out of the loop then there’s no way anyone will want to adopt her. If she stays in the loop she’s probably got a week, tops.”
“Just a week?”
“She’ll starve herself to death. We could get the vet to put her on fluids, keep her alive. But nobody’s going to want a fluffy that wants to die. Besides, and I know it’s horrible to say this, but nobody wants earthies unless they have really spectacular colors. She’s cute, but yellow on yellow isn’t very popular. She’d get three months, tops, and then we’d have to put her down. We just don’t have the space or the money to be a no kill shelter.”
“Fuck me,” he muttered.
“It is what it is. You can’t keep her, which is understandable. But you wanted to know the reality of the situation, so there it is. There’s pretty much no chance she makes it through another week.”
“I’m the biggest asshole in the world.”
“Nah, you’re not. It’s really refreshing to see someone who actually cares. You didn’t hurt her, and you didn’t mean to break her heart.” She reached out and touched his hand. “You did what you could, okay?”
John half-smiled and nodded. “I guess so. Look, if…if she’s not out of her depression in a couple of days, maybe I can make some calls and see if anyone wants to take her.” He reached in his wallet and pulled out a business card. “Do you have a pen?”
“Sure do.” Rebekah grabbed one and handed it to him.
“Here.” He wrote another number on the back of the card. “This is my cell number. Three days and she’s not better, will you call me and let me know? I’d have you call the office, but I want to know immediately.”
She took the card and slid it into her jeans pocket. “I can do that. Three days.”
“Thank you. I guess I’m going to go make sure my cat’s not mad at me. I really appreciate it, and I hope you can help her.”
“Me too. Take care, and hopefully we won’t be talking soon.”
But as she watched him walk out the door, she couldn’t help but thinking to herself. Or maybe I’ll get lucky and we WILL be talking soon. Maybe the feral would get better. Wouldn’t that be a good excuse to call him and hear that nice, soothing voice again?
===
“Sasha! I’m back!”
Usually Sasha greeted John at the door, rolling over on her back and demanding that he pet her belly. Today, though, the foyer was empty.
“Sasha?” John walked through the house, checking all her usual spots. Nothing in the cat tower. She wasn’t under or on the couch or the loveseat. Not on or under the bed. Where the hell could she…
A plaintive yowl coming from the spare bedroom snapped him to attention.
He rushed in to find Sasha sitting in the fluffy’s temporary nest. She was filling the entire shoebox and causing it to bulge, and she was staring up at him with annoyance in her eyes. He was glad he’d tossed the little litterbox. Another plaintive yowl startled him.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked.
His response was an annoyed meow, followed by another yowl.
“Okay, stop being weird. Let’s get you a treat.” He reached down to lift her out of the box, and she hissed at him. He paused, then reached down to touch her. Sasha reached out and swiped at him. No claws, but she hit him as hard as she could, and followed it up with another hiss.
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” he yelled. “You don’t EVER hiss or attack me! Who the fuck do you think you are?”
More plaintive yowling, followed by a series of softer, sad meows.
Suddenly John realized what was going on. No. There’s no fucking way she…no. To test his theory he retrieved the blanket from the dining room table and held it over the box.
“Here, Sasha. This was hers. Do you want it?” He set it down beside the box, making sure that the cat could see it. In response, Sasha leaped out of the box, walked over to the blanket, and started kneading it.
“No shit. Are you serious?”
“Mrrrrrow.” More kneading, with some of the loudest purring he’d ever heard from her. He watched quietly as she got situated, curled up in a ball on the blanket, and stared at him.
“You want her back, don’t you? You…oh my god, you don’t want to hurt her. You want to be her friend.”
All he got in response was a stare. He thought about it - why couldn’t he keep her? Sasha. But if Sasha wanted the little fluffy as a friend, if she wouldn’t hurt the poor thing, then why couldn’t he keep her? He had a good job, made more than enough money to support an extra pet. The fluffy did what she was told, or at least she had so far. No wandering off and getting into accidents. Using the litterbox. ASKING to be taken to the litterbox. The fluffy said she loved him, and it seemed like she really actually did love him. So why not? Why not keep her?
Fuck.
He went back out to the garage and grabbed a shovel, then pulled the bag containing the fluffy’s family out of the garbage. I can’t believe I’m going to do this, he thought to himself. I’m thinking about actually taking that little fluffy in, but first, hey, why the hell don’t I bury her family? What is WRONG with me?
It took a little while to dig a grave beside the rosemary bush. He wanted to make sure it was big enough, while at the same time being deep enough that no scavengers would come dig up the corpses. Once the dirt was packed down again he rummaged around and found a spare decorative stone, an extra one left over from when he’d landscaped the front yard. Pushed down in the dirt, all by itself, it looked kind of like a tombstone.
Great, my little fluffy graveyard. I’ve officially lost my fucking mind.
Back in the house, Sasha wasn’t in the spare bedroom. A quick search led him to the bathroom sink, where he’d bathed the little fluffy. Sasha was just staring at him, annoyance in her eyes.
“Look, girl, I…”
Sasha jumped down and ran out of the room. John followed her into the dining room where she jumped up on the table and sat down beside the little plate that had contained strawberries earlier. Again, she just stared at him.
“Fine. I’ll go get her.” He checked his watch, then checked the shelter’s site on his phone. “They’re closed now, closed at 5. Look. I’ll call out of work tomorrow and we’ll get this sorted out, and oh for fuck’s sake you don’t understand me. I’m going to go get some supplies. Maybe you’ll be less of a shit when I get back.”
===
Sasha watched him work. He’d bought filly-sized stuff for now, and adult-sized stuff for the little fluffy to grow into. A fluffy bed. A free-standing weighted water bottle that couldn’t be tipped over. Food bowls. Some small blocks, a couple of balls. Fluffy litter, fluffy kibble. A night light, just in case. A sorry stick, just in case. Then he stopped by the grocery store and made a few special purchases.
Everything was set up just a couple of hours later. She walked over to the fluffy bed, curled up in the blankets, and started purring. It was like she understood exactly what was going on.
Now all he had to do was wait until morning.
===
The shelter had just opened. Rebekah had just unlocked the door. She was checking on the fluffies when she heard the chime from the door opening. She was very surprised to see John.
“Back so soon? Did you bring another feral?”
“No. Uh, okay. So this is going to sound totally fucking insane. But hear me out.”
Rebekah raised an eyebrow. “Okay.”
“I think my cat’s going to hate me forever unless I bring the fluffy back.”
“Wait, what? You’d better not be telling me that you’re going to feed her to your cat.”
“No! No, no. When I got back home she was curled up in the box the fluffy slept in. She hissed at me and swiped at me. Sasha has never EVER hissed at me, not even when she was a stray. She’s pissed off at me, and she’s made it clear that she misses the fluffy. She slept on her blanket last night. The fluffy’s blanket, I mean. That’s, uh, well. It’s sitting inside the fluffy bed because I set up a safe room for her because I’m an idiot.”
Rebekah smirked. “So it’s just for your cat, then. Right?”
“Well, no.” He smiled sheepishly. “I actually really like her. I never thought I’d like a fluffy, but she’s so cute and sweet and determined to make me love her. It’s unreal. So if Sasha’s not going to be an issue…”
Rebekah grinned. “I’ll go get her.”
The little yellow fluffy was still curled up in a ball. She hadn’t eaten or had any water. It didn’t look like she’d moved at all.
The pegasus trotted over as Rebekah picked up the unresponsive fluffy. “Fwuffies twy hawd to gif gud huggies an wuv, but sad fwuffy no cawe. Fwuffy sowwy.”
“It’s okay, little guy,” Rebekah said. “I’ve got it covered. Thank you.”
“Su wewcome, nice wady Webekuh!”
Rebekah came back and placed the balled fluffy on the counter. “Go ahead. Talk to her.”
John leaned down, just a few inches from the fluffy. “Hey, little girl.”
“Wan die.” Soft. Barely audible.
“I’m not gonna let you die, little girl”
“Wan die.”
“Nope. In fact, I had a long talk with Sasha. Remember Sasha? My cat that you were so afraid of?”
“Wan die.”
“Well, when I got back home Sasha told me that she’s very mad that I took you away. She wants you to come back. She’s not going to love me anymore until I do bring you back. So now that I know Sasha won’t hurt you, I…well, I came to bring you back.”
Silence. But at least it wasn’t a “wan die.”
“I came to bring you home. I set up a safe room for you, with balls and blocks and a nice new bed. Your blanket’s in there. Will you come home with me? Will you be my fluffy?”
Her legs didn’t move, but she moved her head slightly and opened one eye to look at John. “Nice mistah nu hate fwuffy?”
“Of course I don’t hate you. If I hated you then I wouldn’t want to…ah, shit. I can’t believe I’m saying this. If I hated you, would I want to be your new daddy?”
Her whole head popped up, both eyes open wide. “Nice mistah…be nyu daddeh?”
“That’s right.” He held out his hand. “So, do you still want me to be your daddy?”
The little fluffy shot out of the blanket and into his outstretched hand in an instant. She was crying, but this time it was tears of joy. She wrapped her legs around his thumb again and nuzzled him as hard as she could.
“Fwuffy wuv daddah! Wuv daddeh! Wuv daddeh suuuuuu much! Wuv bestest daddeh! Gif daddeh awwwww da huggies an’ wuv fowevah an’ evah! Fwuffy wiww be bestest fwuffy fo daddeh! Wiww use witta-box! Nevah ask fo tweats! Nevah be mean tu daddeh!”
“Okay, okay, okay. Calm down for a second. There’s something important we have to do before we go home.”
“Wat du, daddeh? Fwuffy du anyfing.”
“You can’t keep calling yourself ‘fluffy.’ I’ve been thinking. Because of where I found you, and because your colors remind me of someone I used to know, I’m going to call you…Rosemary.”
Rosemary beamed at him, her wide eyes shining with tears and happiness. “FWUFFY HAF NAMESIE? DADDEH GIF NAMESIE? FWUFFY AM WOSEMAWY?”
“Yes, sweetie, you’re Rosemary now.”
“WOSEMAWY WUV NAMESIE! AM BESTEST NAMESIE FO FWUFFY EVAH! EVAH, EVAH! BESTEST NAMESIE FWOM BESTEST DADDEH! WOSEMAWY WUV NAMESIE, WUV DADDEH!”
He looked over at Rebekah as Rosemary went back to hugging and nuzzling his thumb.
“This is my life now, isn’t it?”
Rebekah giggled. “It’s too adorable to be fair. I would like to point out, though, that I don’t think I’ve ever seen a broken heart get healed that fast. Not even in a fluffy.”
“Hopefully I’ll be able to keep her happy.”
“Based on what I’ve seen, I think you’ve got what it takes. I think maybe you’re the best thing that could have possibly happened to her.”
“Thank you. Look, I don’t know a lot about fluffies. I’ve done a little research online and can do some more, but…well, if I need advice, could I maybe stop by and ask you some questions?”
Rebekah felt her heart skip a beat. God, I think I’d really love that.
“Sure, absolutely,” she said, trying not to let her voice reflect just how much she’d love that.
John smiled. “Thank you. Okay, Rosemary. Let’s go home and see how you like your new room.”
“WOSEMAWY AM WEADY FO HOOOOOOOOOME!” Rebekah heard her babbling all the way out the door. She couldn’t help but let it melt her heart. The day was starting out good, at least. Hopefully it would stay that way.
She reached into her pocket and took out John’s business card again. She wasn’t sure why she was keeping it on her except, well, she knew exactly why she was keeping it on her. Rebekah had thought yesterday that John was cute, but now she had to admit it to herself - she had a full-on crush on the guy.
Sighing to herself, knowing it wouldn’t lead to anything, she pocketed the card again and went to start her rounds checking on the fluffies.