“I love you from the tip of your nose
to the brush of your tail
The first time we met
my heart set sail!“
That’s what Penelope heard many times a day. Her mummah always laced in tiny kissies, nuzzles, and hoof squeezes that made her giggle. For a fluffy she was absolutely spoiled with love: The creamy pink & white mare could hardly do much throughout the day without getting attacked with a sneak hug or ear rub. Not that she’d complain: Beyond the essentials, wasn’t that what every fluffy wanted?
Mummah had adopted her from the shelter. Before then she had lived in an alleyway, stuffed away in some box before being whisked away by someone. It was difficult to think about things back then. The hunger, loneliness, and uncertainty of the world gave her many heart saddies.
Penelope’s mummah was named Emily. Emily happened to be a short young woman with pallid skin and dark circles under her eyes. Worryingly thin, always in the same frumpy dress which stank from lack of doing laundry. Her nails were cracked and bitten all the down, and she had a habit of sucking on her greasy brown hair…always done up in a braid.
“I r-really should clean this place some day. Shouldn’t I? I’m a bad mommy, aren’t I?” She asked this question nearly every day. The apartment they were both in was a mess to say the least. Cartons of books piled up against the walls, the kitchen table and most of the counters piled up with old mail or food trash. Lots of instant noodle cups. Mummah ate so many of the noodles that even her sweat stank of the flavoring, but it wasn’t like Penelope would ever tell her something so rude.
“Nuu-huu! Yew am gud mummah! Bestest mummah!” The fluffy looked over to the littertray. It was piled up with many poopies and peepees: A stinking place that she forced herself to only use when absolutely necessary. Penelope would love if the place was cleaner but whenever the subject came up, Emily became gloomy. More-so than usual, if one could believe it.
Eyes growing bright with apparent love, Emily snatched her mare up in a biiiig hug. Stink washed over her: Body odor, sour milk breath, unwashed hair. “That’s why I loooooove you so-so much, you pwetty widdew GIRL!” The fluffy gave a big smile as mummah put her down and got up to lead her baby out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Doing a juggling act of finding space, she set up a dirty food bowl and poured kibble into it. Penelope did her bestest dancies!
“Yaaaay! Sketti kibbew?” Bopping her front hooves around while standing on her back legs, the fluffy watched in excitement as mummah put warm tap water into the kibble and stirred it all up with a filth-encrusted wooden spoon. The water combined with the kibble to form a neon red paste.
Shoving her face down into the disgusting concoction, Penelope ate with all the unbound joy only a fluffy could bring to the table. Meanwhile, Emily did her usual morning routine. ‘Morning’ being a relative term as she only dragged herself out of bed during the late afternoon. Always standing in the bathroom, staring at herself. Pinching her cheeks, forcing smiles at the mirror.
“H-Hello. Would you…like…a drink, coff…coffee! ” Mummah was very shy of speaking to the imaginary people. The fluffy couldn’t see or hear them of course but she always thought they must be imposing: Emily happened to be a nervous wreck during all of these talks.
Rubbing both hands at her cheeks, Emily’s yellowed smile faltered. “This is stupid. I’m s-so stupid.” Tears welled up at her eyes. Every day. Penelope skittered into the bathroom, another place she always avoided. It always smelled bad in here. Worse even than her littertray if it was to be known. Yet as a fluffy she had a duty to bring heart happies to her owner. Squeezing up on Emily, the fluffy tried to smile reassuringly.
“Nu am dummeh, neba ebba.” Big words from a creature with congealing kibble all over her face.
+++++
“They always hate me, Penelope. No matter what I do. I’m the worst to them. I’m just…trash. I ask a guy out and he laughs at me.” Emily sniffled from her position on the cluttered couch. Penelope looked up briefly from BABBEHS on television. There wasn’t much to say on the issue that she already hadn’t. No matter what the fluffy said, mummah had this discussion. It was one of her daily routines.
Stuffing a small spoonful of butter pecan icecream past her chapped lips, Emily began crying. Fat droplets fell down to the couch beside her. “I tried to be pretty, and a g-good girl. I’m soorrryyy I’m not some tart that spreads her legs for anyone! I want to be married!” The gloominess disappeared for a moment as her eyes squeezed shut, spoon flying through the air and clattering against the wall.
“It’s not FAIR Penelope! It’s not! I HATE THIS! EEEEEEEE!” Taking up a lap pillow, she pitched down to the floor and scrunched up. Biting the pillow, hard-bitten nails flexing back into her palms. Hopping down from the couch, the mare tried her best to give huggies.
Who were ‘they’? What exactly seemed to haunt Emily? ‘They’ were anyone, but in particular men. Penelope had learned she really liked men. A whole lot. More than anything else in the world, including her maybe. They didn’t return her calls. They gave her fake numbers. THEY refused to even look at her. It made her owner very upset.
“Leave me alone, Penelope. Go play with your toys.” Mummah sniffled, looking down to the pillow which was now ragged with bite marks. A soft sigh and she went to do exactly that.
There weren’t many toys to even play with. A furry weasel on a string to chase around but that required mummah’s help. (1) block, the rest having been lost somewhere in all of the stuff in the house. There was a Cinnamummah plush but Emily had removed the eyes and Penelope found it…very unnerving. Plopping down and chewing on the edge of one of her cloth books, she felt kind of bored. FluffTV had already been changed to something else: The news. Mummah always watched that. You would think she loved it but it was the opposite: It always scared her. Made her angry. Or sad. Penelope wished she could give the news sorry-poopies for mummah. Closing her eyes, she felt herself beginning to drift off to sleep. Not much else to do.
When Penelope finally woke up it was dark. When the sun went away, the house was almost completely black. Standing up and giving a wriggle of her tail, she bumbled into the living room. Mummah was awake. Always awake at night. There were very strange noises coming from the living room. No-no words, but mummah didn’t watch anything like that.
There was mummah, right there on the couch where the fluffy had last seen her. One hand holding up her phone so close to her face that the tip of her nose was nearly touching the screen. Penelope could still kind of see what was happening on the screen: It kind of seemed like a mummah and daddeh was fighting. Saying lots of no-no words.
“Mummah?” Piped the fluffy who was still waking up and trying to make sense of this scene. Fumbling the phone and immediately closing what she was doing, Emily flipped around on the couch and stared directly to her pet.
“What are you doing!? Sneaking around!? I wasn’t d-doing ANYTHING!” This greatly confused Penelope who began to slowly back out of the room. Instead of trying to put things together in her think-place, the fluffy resolved to go back to sleep. That felt the best option.
++++++
“I wasn’t doing anything last night. So! You can reserve your JUDGEMENT for someone else who deserves it!” Emily angrily poured kibble into a bowl. Not sketti kibbles: That was recognizable from the bright red bag with the chef hat wearing fluffy on the front. No, this was the bargain stuff that mummah bought when she didn’t have enough money.
“Buh…buh Penewope nu say anyfing.” Mummah was already upset today. She hadn’t said anything about last night but it was still very clearly on HER mind.
Slamming the bowl of food down on the floor, Emily just crossed her arms. “You’re…a VERY bad fluffy. Creeping around like a little toad when you were supposed to be sleeping. I’m very disappointed in you!”
Tearing up, the mare didn’t know how to respond to this. Honestly she hadn’t been trying to be bad.
“Fwuffy sowwy! Nu am mean…” Emily wasn’t listening though. Already having shoved away from the kitchen to gruffly stomp out to the living room. Tears dripped down to her kibble as she forced herself to eat. A horrible feeling clutched at her heart, having given mummah heart saddies.
When Penelope gingerly stepped into the living room though? Her mummah swept her up off the floor and gave her lots of kissies and tummy rubs. Lots of smiles. So full of warmth and care.
“There’s my little baby! Ohmygosh! You are so cute! My prettiest, specialest little GIRL!” A whiplash of emotions. The sadness which she’d been feeling swept away and left her in a state of absolute love. Twitching her ears up and giving a cutesy look, Penelope giggled.
“Dank yew mummah! Yew am bestest mummah! Bestest mummah EBAH ‘fo fluffy!”
Getting off the couch, Emily grabbed up the little furry weasel on a pole toy and flickered it all around her fluffy’s face. Penelope gave a squeal of excitement and attempted to first swat at it with her hooves, and failing that, latch onto it with her mouth. The weasel always seemed one step ahead though and soon she was running around in a circle attempting to get it.
Becoming all tuckered out from playing chase the toy, Penelope plopped down to the stained carpet with a content look on her face. Not down there for long though because mummah scooped her up and brought up over to the couch, curling up with the fluffy and giving kissies to the top of her head.
“I love you from the tip of your nose
to the brush of your tail
The first time we met
my heart set sail.“
That’s what always got sang to her and she truly loved it each time. With FluffTV on, snugged up against the flat of her mummah’s chest, she felt snug as a bug. Why did she have heart saddies earlier? It was hard to remember.
+++++
“Mummah? Penewope hab babbehs tu?” It was later in the evening now. The fluffy was beginning to adopt her owner’s haptic schedule: Sleeping the morning and a large chunk of the afternoon away. While the rest of the world slept they were in their little apartment whiling the night away. An episode of BABBEHS had been playing on FluffTV, and Penelope wondered why she wasn’t allowed to have them too. Wasn’t she a good fluffy?
The question caused Emily to freeze up. Teeth clamping down, grinding for a moment. Leveling her eyes to the fluffy, the woman took a quavery breath.
“Oh? Because I’m not good enough? Y-You’re like everyone else. Aren’t you? They hate me. You do too.” Tears flowed to her eyes which Penelope was quite used to see. Mummah always had sad or angry wawas.
Penelope shook her head fiercely! “Nuu! Fwuffies wub ebbyfing! Am gud fwuffy! Buh wan be mummah tu!” Looking over to the television she saw a butter colored mare feeding her babbehs and singing the mummah song. If she had babbehs, she’d sing Emily’s song to them. It meant that much to her.
Taking a handful of Penelope’s mane and shoving her off the couch, Emily got up and screeched. “No! NO! You hate me! You want babies to replace me! I’m not GOOD enough for YOU!” Stomping now to the bathroom, Listening as bottles and metal things hit the floor in there as Emily tore through the medicine cabinet, she took a few cautious steps to the stinky room. It smelled of rot in there and more than anything she didn’t want to be inside, but mummah needed her love.
“Mummah! Penewope wub yew! Pwease stahp! Pwease pwease pwease!” Begging to her owner and gently taking her dress up into her mouth, Penelope tugged and tried to get her attention. It wasn’t enough though because soon the woman had a straight razor in her hand. Flicking the blade out, light reflecting off it’s greasy metal, Emily shook her head.
“L-LIAR! You’re nothing but a liar! An UNGRATEFUL BRAT! You’re doing this! You made me do this!” In a frenzy, she began cutting the top of her arms, razor flicking down again and again. Flecks of blood flew onto the medicine cabinet mirror, dripped to the floor.
“NUU-HUU-HUU! MUMMAH NU GIB HUWTIES! PENEWOPE WUB! PWEASE! NUUUU!” All she wanted was for Emily to stop. This was horrible! It was the worst thing ever. And…and she’d done it. It was her fault. All her fault for saying something about wanting babbehs. Now her mummah had lots of huwties.
“EEEEE! MUMMAH! HUGGIES!” Squeezing against her owner’s leg in desperation, she did the only thing a fluffy could do to help. A hug made everything better, but not in this case. Slamming the straight razor into the sink basin, Emily grabbed a handful of Penelope’s tail and dragged her to the door which led outside. The apartment was one of those single story ones all built into a large facility.
“Get out! I HATE YOU! You brat! You stupid…b-BAD thing!” Penelope watched in shock as mummah shoved her outside then kicked her so hard that she flipped away from the door and landed right on her face. Soon after the door closed.
+++++
It might have been night time but Penelope needed to help mummah. More than anything, even if she really wanted to knock against the front door with her hooves and try to get her attention. How did a fluffy get help? She thought about FluffTV…when someone had trouble on there they went to find a powice person. They were mummahs and daddehs who were toughies and could help when really bad things were going on.
Moving her weggies as fast as she could she went out the sidewalk leading up to the apartment. Emily rarely went out, and even more rarely brought her fluffy along for a trip. Yet she still remembered enough to know this sidewalk led to the big place called town. Making sure not to wander onto the street, she got as close to it as she could and got up on her back legs.
“Pwease hewp fwuffy! Mummah hab huwties! Wots ob huwties! PWEASE!” Desperately crying out to any car that passed by. Some of them honked, one guy leaned out and pegged her right on the head with an empty energy drink can, but mostly it was quiet indifference.
It just so happened that an officer WOULD come to her rescue. Mark Allen, an older man with kindly eyes who was far too bored. Patrols here were just for the sake of doing them. This was just a small town without many major crimes. The most action he could hope to get was a report of shoplifting at a convenience store or some punk kids drawing dicks on wall somewhere. When he got a good look at a fluffy on her hind legs hollering with all her might, he slowed his roll. If only because she had a collar on. A feral wouldn’t be worth his time but an owned one? Some kid would likely appreciate the help. Pulling his cruiser over and stepping out, he was met with the relieved expression of a fluffy who just found her personal savior.
“Mistah nice powice daddeh! Mummah hab HUWTIES! Nee’ hewp! Pwease!” Mark looked down to her, gave a patient smile. This wasn’t that uncommon really. Fluffies were painfully dumb but they did try to help when they could. He imagined that this one’s owner had stubbed their toe or burned their finger on the stove.
Reaching down to carefully pick the fluffy up, he pet her ears to get her to calm down. “Whoa now. It’ll be alright. Where do you live? I’ll make sure she’s fine.”
Giving a hopeful smile, Penelope began pointing out where she’d come in from down the sidewalk. “Mummah hab weggy huwties an’…an’…” Was it possible to really explain what was wrong with her? An awfully difficult matter for a fluffy. Her brain worked really hard to put it into words. It’s not like a fluffy knew what a mental illness was beyond being ‘special’ or a ‘dummeh’. “An thinky-pwace huwties. Mummah nee’ hewp!”
They got down the sidewalk to the apartment where she lived. Clearing his throat, the officer gave a patented ‘Come to the fucking door’ knock that rattled the fluffy in his arms. So scawy!
“Yesssss? Who…who is it?” Came Emily’s voice shyly from behind the door, muffled. It didn’t sound like she was hurt anymore.
“Officer Allen, ma’m. I’ve got your fluffy here? Worried that you’re hurt.” Cradling Penelope in the crook of one arm, the officer was surprised when the door suddenly flung open. Emily stared out from the gloom within, eyes wide and feverishly bright.
“Oh! Penelope! You silly widdew GOOSE. O-Officer, all I had was a shaving accident. Down….” Her eyes traveled down the length of her clothing. Not her usual clothing either. A shirt and sweatpants, arms all covered up. “There.” She giggled, batted her eyelashes at the officer. He gave an uncomfortable smile.
“I figured. Something like that. Here.” Penelope was passed over to Emily, and the fluffy found herself in a great confusion. Why wasn’t he helping? Mummah did have huwties. She was lying! Fibbing! She saw it happen! MUMMAH NEEDED HEWP!
“Nuu-huu! Mistah nice powice daddeh! Mummah hab huwties! Fwuffy am see! She hab wots ob huwties an’ nu feew gud!” Begging him to try and look. Just look further than what was on display. Emily’s nails dug into her furry little sides.
“What did mommy teach you about telling lies, Penelope?” The nails furrowed even deeper down which caused Penelope to start crying. As if she felt guilty from telling a lie. Mark gave the two a weary look and tipped his hat.
“Ma’m.” Was all he said, turning to return to his cruiser. Emily waved goodbye to him with lots of enthusiasm before disappearing back into the house with her fluffy.
++++++++
Penelope’s legs were forced up into the air, both pairs tied up with extension cords. All she could do was wriggle around on her back and look hopelessly to her mummah.
“Mummah! Yew teww wies! Penewope nu am wie! Yew hab huwties!” Emily had changed out of her sweatpants and shirt for the familiar dress, bandaged arms fully on display. Blood had oozed into the white and caused red splotches to form. The proof was RIGHT THERE!
Bringing a sewing kit to the table, the fluffy’s owner gave a shake of her head. “Shut up! I don’t lie! I’m a GOOD GIRL! Unlike you. A very bratty, unloving fluffy. AND a floozy.” She remarked, drawing out a spool of thread and a large needle.
“Nu mummah! Dat nu am twue! Am gud fwuffy! Omwy wan hewp mummah!” Why was this happening? Hadn’t she done everything a good fluffy could? Try to help, give lots of wub, try to understand what her mummah was going through.
Giving a hiss of breath, Emily shook her head. “I bet you were out there having a skankfest with every boy you could find! Babies! I’ll show YOU babies, brat!” Leading heavy-duty thread which seemed just as strong as fishing line through the eye of the needle, she grabbed her fluffy and punctured right through Penelope’s special place.
“OWWWIES! MUMMAH! SPECIAW PWACE HUWTIES!” There was nowhere to go. The needle twitched, dragged a thick cable right through the sensitive flesh of that place. More pressure, Emily grunting as she had to use the base of her thumb to puncture through the other side, repeated the process. It hurt worse than anything Penelope could ever remember. The pain and fear caused her to cover the kitchen table in poopies, but her owner didn’t seem to notice or care.
“I care for you, I feed you, I gave you a life…” Angry tears fell down from her eyes as she continued to sew her biopet up. The flesh became taught as the thread dragged through her. Painfully tight and sore.
“WRY? WRY YEW HUWT PENEWOPE!?” The fluffy begged for an answer but wouldn’t receive one. Instead her mummah continued working. She was humiliated, in pain, and felt a crushing weight press over her. That…something special, precious to every mare was being robbed from her. Never to have babbehs of her own. Mummah was taking that away. All she’d done was ask a question and this is what had happened. If the matter had been explained to her, she would have understood and did her best to remember it.
+++++++
Mummah had untied her weggies and let her wander off to a corner to weep. There was nothing left to do. Mummah could be a munstah: That’s what she was beginning to believe. There was Good Mummah and Bad Mummah. Two distinctive people, yet the same person. A confusing notion for a fluffy. Something she was trying to figure out.
Her special place hurt. It hurt to even lay down, like someone was tearing her flesh with their hands. Eyes closing, she cried herself to sleep. A miserable rest where she had a bad dream. In the dream, there was mummah. Good Mummah. All smiles and wanting to play. Directly behind her was Bad Mummah, always giving a scary smile. She hated Bad Mummah. Wanted to give her sorry-poopies. So that she’d stop hurting her real owner.
“Wakey-achy, eggs ‘n bakey!” Came Emily’s cheerful voice. A hand shaking Penelope awake. The fluffy stretched her back legs too far without thinking about what had happened the previous night, gave a screech of pain because of the stitching.
Looking down blearily to a plate set in front of her. Pancakes with lots of syrup. Of course fluffies loved skettis mostest but they were allowed to be fond of other things too. Penelope happened to love pancakes a whole lot.
“Go on! Eat up! I worked really hard on that because I love-love-love my sweetie baby soooo much! And later…we’ll go get a new toy!” These were things that the mare would have very much loved to hear. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling Bad Mummah was there. Standing right behind Emily, making her body move to it’s own step. Like this was a trick.
Bending down to the plate of pancakes, Penelope decided to eat. It didn’t taste good right now. It tasted like yuckies, because she knew something had to be happening after this.
“Dank yew mummah…” She mumbled out, hoping her owner would just stay like this. Bouncing from side to side and going into the bedroom, Emily came back out with her purse.
“I’ll go buy your toy right now, in fact! You might be a brat sometimes, but I’m a GOOD mommy. And good mommy’s know even when their babies are ickle-fickle wittew scamps, they deserve forgiveness.” With that, mummah was leaving the house.
Penelope turned to stare at the wall. She hadn’t done anything. No matter how many times mummah said so, she hadn’t. All she did was ask a question. Getting over to the always-filled littertray, she nearly passed out from the pain of making peepees. It hurt so bad. Mummah had done this. Bad Mummah.
The fluffy wasn’t even excited about Emily’s return though she did force a smile when the door opened and she came in with a bag of stuff. A new stuffy-friend for Penelope, a little blue bear. Hugging it up against herself, it felt reassuring to have. Mummah had a big box of juice which she unceremoniously slammed down on one of the living room end tables.
Doing her best to avoid mummah all day, she watched the usual cycle repeat itself. Watching the news made her cry. Looking at herself in the bathroom mirror and carrying on imaginary conversations. Sitting there for perhaps ten minutes at a time doing nothing more than sniffing under her fingernails. The more juice mummah drank, the sadder she got. Or happy. Seesawing from weeping to turning on the pop station and dancing around the room, giggling and clapping.
After daylight had long since faded away and into the wee hours of the morning, she heard mummah in the stinky room making sicky wawa. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence either. Mummah always made sicky wawa after she’d eaten, for example.
“Puhnewope! Come hewe!” Her mummah yelled out, almost sounding like a fluffy there for a moment. More than anything, she didn’t want to go to the bathroom. But…fluffies lived to make people happy. Hooves tip-tapping across the hallway, she peeked into the bathroom.
Mummah hadn’t made her sicky wawas into the right place this time. Instead it sat in a congealing puddle right beside her. The smell in here was obscene. Not just from the puke, but from the overflowing wastebasket next to the toilet.
Emily snatched her biopet up, clumsily fell down beside the toilet. Penelope whimpered, being forced into the curtain of rot and mess.
“Love yew from da tip of your nose”
Slobbery smooches against her face, rank breath pushing in on her.
“to da brush of your tail!”
A tail tug that caused Penelope to squeal with pain.
“When ah fiwst saw you…”
Emily smiled to her toy.
“Muh heawt set sail.” More disgusting kisses. Sweaty, sticklike arms cinched against her sides. Rolling over onto her side and refusing to let Penelope go. The fluffy cried the entire time stuck inside that stinking pit of a room. What was wrong with mummah’s think-pwace? Why wouldn’t anyone help?
Wouldn’t anyone help her mummah? Looking to the vomit puddle her owner had slumped down into and was snoring on, she thought no. Nobody would. Because Bad Mummah could act normal enough so Good Mummah couldn’t get help.
