What’s the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything?
That’s right.
Amazing hate-sex.
Let’s be honest, you never really cared much about your dignity.
Of course once you were done she went straight back to pretending you didn’t exist. You were fine with that.
What you weren’t fine with was her first casual mention of tummeh babbehs two days later. It wasn’t easy to sleep after that. With all that was about to happen flowing through your head.
You had to be there for your foals, that wasn’t a question. But raising them with Sunny? That was a question. That and the foal you already had, you’d have to push your poopie babbeh towards independence.
You couldn’t lose them, you couldn’t abandon them, not like Sparky. You still remembered yanking hard as you could on your tail, clawing your bloody hooves on the pavement as you watched your babbehs die. The ones you had inside Sunny would see adulthood, they had to. But first you had to make sure your poopie babbeh also would.
“Babbeh, com wif daddeh.” You told him one morning, “We getting nummies.”
“Yay! Nummies!” Your babbeh happily yelled.
You both started down through the trees, towards the fence.
“Poopie babbeh wiww haf mowe bwuddahs an’ sissies soon.” You told him, “Daddeh haf take cawe ob dem. Nu can take cawe ob poopie babbeh wen mowe babbehs com.”
“Daddeh hab mowe babbehs?” He asked. “Poopie bad babbeh?”
“Poopie nu bad babbeh. Buh Poopie nee wearn to get own nummies an’ nu gu foweba sweepies.”
“Okay daddeh, if daddeh say su.”
You took him through the fence to the first house. On the way telling him small things. Like if no other nummies are around there’s grassies, however bad they taste. Or to go for the most accessible trashies, not just the ones with the best nummies.
You went by the first house, showing him the ins and outs of combing through trash. Thankfully the dog wasn’t out that day, then again he needed to know that it might be.
You took him to the second house, with the garden.
“Dis am wewe Daddeh get gud nummies?” He asked.
“Yes, buh nu can num any wite now.”
“Wy nu can num nummies?”
“Nummies bewong tu hoomin. Fwuffies take tu many nummies hoomin get angwy, twy tu huwt fwuffies. Gib foweba sweepies.”
“Hao Daddeh kno dat?”
You looked down at him, the next words out of your mouth needed to be careful.
“’Uo used to haf bwuddahs an sissies… an’ mummah.” You told him.
“Wah happen tu dem? Wy Poopie Babbeh nu hab mummah? Wy odah fwuffies hab mummah?”
You could tell he’d been pondering that for a long time. “Dwe… Fwuffies taek tu many nummies fwom hoomin once. Hoomin was angwy. ‘Ou had just com’ out ob mummah, ‘ou an bwuddas an sissies. Buh hoomin gib mummah an’ bwuddas an sissies huwties an’ foweba sweepies. Den…”
You thought for a minute.
“…Daddeh tout aww babbehs gon, den hewd Poopie babbeh chiwp. Mummah hid ‘uo su ‘uo nu gu foweba sweepies, cuz Mummah wuved ‘uo, an aways wiww. Buh Mummah was foweba sweepies, su tuk Poopie babbeh an’ found hewd an’ Sunny tu gib miwkies.”
Your Poopie Babbeh looked back to the garden, processing the information.
“Mummah… wuv babbeh?” He finally asked.
You weren’t about to tell him the truth, not now.
“Mummah wuved ‘uo.” You replied, patting him on the head with your hoof. “Com wif daddeh… dewe am fwiend at next homie hu wuv pway.”