It was the routine story,
a well off man in his upper twenties decided he was finally ready to get himself a pet. Not just any pet, though. He lived in the fantastical reality in which science had created a wonderful creature that thought for itself and could speak its feelings!
The animal companions of yesteryear didn’t hold a candle to these miraculous fluffy ponies. They had become so ubiquitous that it was perfectly normal for a young man to adopt one from one of the many, many, many outlet shelters that dotted the intersections of city streets. The shelters were as commonplace as delis and other corner stores, due to how quickly the fluffies bred, and some chains specialized in certain traits – at a premium, of course.
Francis McDowell did not care for flashy patterns, prismatic coats, or any other showroom gimmick that franchise breeders were trying to turn over a buck with. He wanted a true friend that would last him well into his thirties, or longer if he was lucky! So, he walked down the block to the humble brown-brick building where he would pick up his new happy friend.
Upon entering the establishment, the young man was greeted by the childish babbling of the delightful bunch. The storefront window that allowed all prospective patrons to view the lines of plexiglass enclosures from quite a distance away did well to mute the commotion on the other side of the door. There were so many fluffies in each pen! They were of all shades and hues and ages; the foals were in tubs suspended on tiered shelves, while the older fluffies were allowed to mingle on the turfed floor. They had their litter boxes, kindergarten toys, food and water bowls, and each other. Had Francis not arrived, they would have continued playing and hugging each other without a care in the world.
But they did have a care, now. As soon as they heard the chime of the shelter door go off, the fluffies put their usual activities on hiatus and rushed the side of the pen facing the aisle that the young man would walk. They reared up on their hind legs and pressed their snouts against the glass in anticipation, tails wagging.
“Nyu homesie?”
“Nyu daddeh!?”
“Daddeh! Fwuffy am hewe! Fwuffy am hewe fo’ nyu daddeh!”
“Pick fwuffy!”
The chorus of eager fluffies was overwhelming! Francis was taken aback for a moment; clearly he had underestimated the significance of his visit. There was a veritable army of lovable critters inside this shelter, all eager to spread joy and caring into the world. How wonderful it all was!
One of the shelter attendants noticed the stunned visitor and made her way over. “Hiya!” she greeted him pleasantly, her hands upped together in front of her handler overalls at thigh-level as she bobbed with bubbly enthusiasm. “Welcome to Douglas Wattsville’s Fluffy Pasture!”
“And what a welcome it is!” Francis managed to croak out nervously behind his crooked, somewhat awkward grin. He was excited to meet his new pet, but this girl was also pretty cute. He peered at her name tag: Jessica. Yeah, she looked like a peppy Jesse.
Jessica walked Francis down the aisle of excited fluffy pens while she ran down the man’s criteria for his new companion. His want for a fluffy that would follow him well into his adult life made it clear to Jessica that the well-meaning youth would want a foal, and she beamed internally. Fluffies were almost meant to constantly have foals around!
Jessica led Francis to a pen near the far end of the store where all the new mothers were placed with their suckling litters. These mares were exceptionally plump as far as fluffies went, and they were all lying on their sides. They cooed contently, some mumbled nursery songs to their babies.
Among the clusters of foals and their mothers, there was one bright baby fluffy. Bright in both physical composition, for it almost sparkled in the cool light of the shelter, and in personality. The young fluffy giggled and smiled like a character off a program that Francis would have watched when he was a kid. The sight took him all the way back to his own nursery days, or what he would have imagined his nursery days to be!
“I’ll take that fluffy, there!” Francis announced to Jessica. She followed his gaze to the fated fluffy, and then she nodded approvingly.
“Of course! I just knew your heart would connect with one of these adorable little things!”
Jessica entered the pen, skirted past the groups of fluffies in her way, and deftly scooped up the tiny creature in her hands before it could even process that it had been selected to go home with a new owner.
“Wha’? Wha’ happun? Wha’ gon on?” the foal squeaked.
The lethargic mother stirred, and gazed up at her child in Jessica’s hands. “Upsies fo’ babbeh? Babbeh tu widdow! Pwease nice wady, pud babbeh back wif mummah?”
Jessica shook her head, the smile never leaving her countenance. “Silly Ulma! Your baby is going to a good home, now! Say goodbye to…” The shelter worker eyed Francis expectantly.
Francis cleared his throat upon realizing that he was being prompted to name his pet! “Uh… uh…” He kicked himself mentally; how long did he have to think of a name for his fluffy-friend!? “Um… Godzi… chief.”
Jessica blinked bemusedly. “Godzichief?”
“Yeah. It’s Hebrew.” Francis rubbed the back of his head and chuckled hollowly. The portmanteau of Godzilla and Master Chief was definitely not Hebrew.
The cheery fluffy handler shrugged and did not question the oddity. “Say bye-bye to little Godzichief, Ulma!”
Ulma’s squishy body buckled as though she was struck by an invisible blow. “Huu huu… bai-bai widdow Go’zeef! Mummah awways wub 'ou! Mummah neba foget furstest babbeh, huu huu!” the mare blubbered tearily.
“Mummah! Mummah! Babbeh wan’ mummah! Nu wan’ go 'way fwom mummah! Gib mummah backsie to babbeh!” Godzichief exclaimed once it occurred to the young fluffy that ‘goodbye’ meant ‘leaving’. Godzichief did not want to leave the nursery! Francis’ heart sank.
“Er… is it really alright to do this? Is Godzichief too young or–”
Jessica shook her head no. “This is a natural part of fluffy life. All mares want babies, and all mares know that they have to give them away, so that they can have more babies!”
The woman was so candid about the way of fluffies, that Francis could not bring up any more objections to taking little Godzichief home with him. These creatures were made with commercial intent in mind, in the end. There really wasn’t any reason to get worked up over their own sentimental outbursts. No one ever overthought buying a toy before, so why should Francis start now?
“Mummah! Mummah hewp! Dey takin’ b-babb… Go’zeef! Dey takin’ Go’zeef 'way, mummah! Hewp!”
“Huu huu, be gud, Go’zeef! Nicey mistow gib wub and homesie an’… huuu huu… aww sketty Go’zeef eba nee’! Mummah wub 'ou! Mummah neba eba foget! Huu huu huuu!”
Jessica made the process of adopting Godzichief a no-brainer. Certificates were written up, registration was registered, veterinary warranties ratified, and medical screenings, screened. Godzichief was a healthy up and coming colt, stallion-to-be! When his green coat came in fully, he would be worthy of being named after the King of the Monsters, and Space Marine Reclaimer.
Francis was a bit of a nerd. It followed that he would be the type to buy a fluffy unironically.
Godzichief was a bit of a cry-baby, but that was normal, Francis was assured. When he got home, he gently set the carrier on the living room floor and opened the grated door so that the fluffy could venture out and explore. It took a while of waiting in silence, but eventually the small colt took his first tentative, teary steps out of the pet carrier.
“Huu huu, wan’ mummah. Wan’ mummah! Go’zeef miss mummah! Wan’ mummah back!” he sobbed.
“I’m told that your mother is super happy for you, Godzi!” Francis said gently in order to console his new friend. “She’s got to make babies to make a bunch of people happy! Babies like you! Babies make everything better!”
Godzichief sniffled his little snout and looked up to the man that took him home. “Go’zee ma’e ebbyfing beddah?” he asked with his meek voice.
“Yeah, buddy! I’m really happy you’re my friend!”
Godzichief smiled a small smile. “Weawy? Wub Go’zeef?”
Francis nodded. “Yeah. Yeah! I love you Godzichief! Come, let me give you a hug!”
Godzicheif squealed with delight. “Yay! Wub huggies! Wub nyu daddeh! Tee hee!” The green fluffy giggled as he waddled his way over to Francis – he was winded by the time he got over to the young man. Francis scooped him up and cuddled his cheek against the tiny fluffy. He couldn’t wait until he could actually wrap his arms around the little guy!
Godzichief cooed and chortled, and pressed his forelegs against Francis’ face in his own display of a hug.
It did not take much at all for the small fluffy to forget all about his mother back at the nursery, in exchange for his long and happy life with the young man.
