Primrose stood at the top of the concrete steps. He and his special friend, Lilac, saw the tunnel running below the busy highway. It was long (for a fluffy) and dark, but they knew on the other side they would find the city park, a place carpeted with green fresh grass and littered with leftover food humans habitually left carelessly in easy-to-reach places. They were both very tired, and hungry, but they were also very close. Lilac snuggled tightly against her special friend. The night was cold.
– Pwimwose, fwaffy scawedy.
Primrose had escaped his home. He had many brothers and sisters. He was by no means the runt on his litter but still in terms of weight and size, he became the smallest. Even if he was hungry, if his siblings were suckling on their mother’s teat, Primrose never pushed them aside or even tried to ask for a turn. On the contrary, he was the one habitually getting pushed aside. Toys were taken from him, spots on fluffy piles, blankets, food, water, everything. And every time something was taken from him, he would say to himself “Fwaffy no hungwy anyways. Mumma miwkies nu su gud.” “Fwaffy nu wan pway baww anyways, baww stupi.” “Nu wan huggies, am big fwaffy nao.” and so on. Over time, he even started to believe it.
Even his name was a reference to how delicate and non-aggressive he was.
With time all the other fluffies started actively teasing him, making jokes at his expense, calling him mean names, kicking him around. Little by little, even if he had a decent red coat, he became a poopie fluffy, and started eating and sleeping in the shit all his brothers, sisters, and mother made. Something that particularly pained him was being told none would ever love him for being a poopie baby. He became indifferent to all the other forms of abuse, but when his siblings really wanted to see him cry, they repeated that no one ever loves poopie fluffies, that no one would hear him cry, that he would never have special hugs or a special friend, and that he would go to sleep forever all alone.
One night, Primrose escaped from his home.
It wasn’t long before he met Lilac and became special friends with her. Even if he had no confidence, Lilac little by little assured him that she really wanted him. At first, he was worried, thinking he would not be strong or brave or good enough to be a special friend, even less a dad. But one day, waking up within their nest in a refrigerator box, a dragonfly came flying through the hole they used as entrance. Primrose, to his own surprise, stood up and puffed his cheeks as hard as he could, lifting his tail and standing with his four short legs spread in a firm stance.
– D-dummeh! Weave nestie, dis am fwaffy nestie! Weave ow get wowsest stompies!
After flying around a couple times, the dragonly found the exit and flew away into the night. He had done it! He protected his nest and his special friend!
– Peshaw fwen su bwabe! Wiwac wub Pwimwose!
They had the most intense session of special hugs ever.
From that point on, Primrose looked out for more opportunities to put his bravery to the test. He scared dragonflies, normal flies, roaches, stomped on worms, dry leaves and any other invader that even came near their nest. He started to consider that maybe all his siblings were wrong, maybe he was a fluffy worth loving.
Winter approached, as well as their babies. Lilac was bigger and bigger every day almost at the same rhythm food became scarcer. Primrose started to worry how would his family survive winter. Luckily, a pack of friendly fluffies passing along told them about a park where food and shelter were abundant and relatively nice humans visited even in winter, so the chance for rare and delicious foods was higher than in the alleyways. Primrose and Lilac went out journeying that same day, slowly, letting Lilac take her time. Primrose was cautious but secure that whatever difficulty he would find a way through, for her special friend and soon babies.
Now they were almost there, the only thing they had to do was go through the tunnel and they would be set, maybe for life. A few snowflakes were falling through the night air. Primrose and Lilac stood under the electric light evaluating their next steps. The more they waited the colder the air seemed to get. Primrose explained this to his partner and encouraged her to keep going.
First, they went down the steps. One by one, very slowly. They both became concerned every time Lilac’s belly was squished against the cold concrete.
Once down, a sense of entrapment fell on them. It would be impossible to climb back up the steps, red brick walls flanked them, and the only way out was through the tunnel itself. Now it seemed like a gigantic throat ready to swallow them. The sound of trucks and cars passing overhead reverberated in that artificial cavern. Through the tunnel, the shine of the electric lights on the other side beckoned them, a bright circle of hope.
– Nuuuu – cried Lilac – Scawedy.
– Nu wowwy peshaw fwen. Pwimwose wub peshaw fwen. Pwimwose pwotect, nu munsta huwt peshaw fwen ow soon babbeh.
– P-pwomise?
Primrose puffed up his chest.
– Fwaffy pwomise! Fwaffy wub Wiwac mowe dan sketty, mowe dan anyfin!
Inside the tunnel they could not see a thing except the light at the end, still a small circle in the middle of the dark. Lilac bit on Primrose’s tails as to not get separated. For a while they walked forward without anything happening, although Primrose felt something was wrong. Something about the smell of that place, it was just not right. From time to time they heard something shuffling behind them. When that happened, they stopped trying to hear if the sound persisted but it never did. Still as they went deeper and deeper into the tunnel that shuffling started to anxiously resemble the sound of little paws sneaking around.
Around halfway through, by chance, Primrose looked back and managed to see the silhouette of a fat rat moving against the light they came from. His heart sank and seemed to turn into ice: that creature was easily as big as an adult fluffy!
– Pwshaw fwen – he murmured, – fwaffys nee move fastew.
They tried to pick up the pace, but Lilac’s pregnancy made it impossible. As if knowing they had been seen the rats started squeaking and hissing with excitement. They were no longer concerned with being hidden and started running towards the couple. The clicks of their claws against the concrete became increasingly louder, as well as the fouls smell. One of the rats nibbled on Lilac’s hind hoof.
– SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
Lilac’s scream triggered the rats who piled on top of her with the monstrous fluidity of water.
– PESHAW FWEEEEEN!
Primrose tried hitting them with his hooves, but the rats barely noticed.
– Weave! Peshaw! Fwen! Awone! Nu wowy wuv, fwaffy sabe peshaw…
One of the rats grabbed onto Primrose’s hind leg with its bony cold paws and sank its teeth on the fluffy’s rump. With a high-pitched scream he instinctively let out a flood of excrement that landed all over the rat’s eyes, startling it enough to release him. Primrose turned towards the exit, spraying Lilac’s face with shit in the process as he ran for his life. He could hear his special friend’s screams and pleads for help growing quieter and distant, then the sounds of ripping flesh, a gargling of blood. Then only a cacophony of feral rats feasting on warm food.
When Primrose came to his senses he was at the top of the concrete steps on the other side of the tunnel, under the electric streetlights. His rump hurt. His back was cold with some accumulated snow. How had he reached that place? He had no memory. Why was he alone? He wondered. Was his special friend not with him? Images of Lilac being ripped open flashed on his mind. Blood, a teared lip, an expose trachea, guts, tears… a half-formed baby… he couldn’t protect them. But it was OK, he thought as he started crying and smiling simultaneously. It was OK, because he never cared for them anyway. He was always better off by himself, Lilac was a burden, so slow. He only pretended to like her out of pity. But he, he never truly loved her. Right? And their baby? He surely was going to be a poopie baby anyway. So being eaten by rats in a dark tunnel under a highway was the very best for them. He said to himself.
–YUUUUUUUUUUUUS. Fwaffy nu wanned peshaw fwen! Nu wanned famiwy! IT OTAY! IT OTAY! HAHAHAHAHhahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA!
Gossip started to spread about a curious fluffy in city park. Dirty red coat, limping from a hind leg that seemed damaged and showed signs of infection, and continually smiling in an exaggerated way. The fluffy was known to approach people, asking for food and, sometimes, a home. Although he would recoil if people tried to pet him and often vomited the food handed to him right there on the spot. “Nu nee dummy nummies!” he would say before running away. A particular group of teenagers was observed on several occasions burning the fluffy with cigarettes and then throwing breadcrumbs for him to eat. This group would ask if the fluffy enjoyed being hurt, to which he would response “yes” and “no” alternatively. His indecision causing him so much distress he would eventually collapse into hysterical laughter and crying. The same confusing answers were given if asked if he wanted his breadcrumbs.
Overall the presence of the fluffy was of no further consequence, until he approached a group of young children playing in the sandbox. Emaciated and disfigured by burns and cuts, a purulent leg and thin falling coat, and presenting his characteristic combination of forced smile and teary eyes, the fluffy asked the children if they would like him to be their daddy. Scared, the children ran and informed their parents.
An official complaint was placed with the Parks Administrative Office. It was accorded that Park Maintenance and Sanitation Services would place fluffy traps and dispose of the fluffy in question. The very next morning after placing the traps several fluffies, including the intended one, were caught. A Parks employee took the cage to the pond and submerged it into the water. The employee reports the fluffy kept thanking him as he lowered the cage. “Fwaffy nu wike bein awive anywai”, the fluffy stated between sobs and laughter. However, the employee also notes the fluffy struggled and seemed to beg for mercy before finally going limp.
This fluffy, along with all the others caught during the operation were processed with the compostable garbage.
Left his speciaw fwewnd get eaten…what a coward. And then to think he doesn’t need any 