“Mistuh Awmawd am nice mistuh! Thanks fo’ gud uppsies!” Andrea said as I brought her back down to the ground. I had to carry her most of the way home as her short legs had trouble keeping up and the small horse tired out just wandering the woods. Holding her made me realize that this was a real flesh and blood animal as I could feel her little heart beat against my arm as I cradled her and the way she gobbled through my bag of trail mix as she refused to eat any grass during the 4 mile walk home. She appeared more human than animal with all of these extra quirks.
“This is my cabin, Andrea, we can stay here while I get you back to your ‘daddy’.”
The fat little creature waddled over to look at the front and turned around with a perplexed look on her face, “Dis cabin, wook wike housie”. She didn’t seem to understand the nuanced complexities of language and similarities of thought and intentions. This animal, although it had the power of speech, still had the mental capacity of a 3 year old child.
“A cabin is a type of house, just as nice and warm.”
“Otay!” Andrea readily accepting the explanation as she hobbled up the steps.
The cabin was nicely furnished as I had been spending more time out here during any major events that reminded me of my wife. It was well stocked and had a couple of spare bedrooms that I used to host some of our friends who wanted to stop by and reminisce about the past when Andrea was alive or healthier.
“We can set you up in a guest room while I go find your ‘daddy’, do you need anything like blankets, or water, or…” I trailed off, I realized that this was a pet that I was treating like a person. Idiot, are you gonna ask if she needs a washcloth and towels so that she can wash up before dinner? The little pony trotted over to the guest room and plopped herself down on the carpet while looking around.
“Dis am nice, Andwea am nee’ wawm bwankies and good nummies, an wittew bo… gasp TeeBee!” She shouted.
She noticed that small flat screen on the dresser and immediately exploded in excitement. “TeeBee! TeeBee! Andwea wuv teebee!”
“You watch television?”
“Ya! Daddeh Doctuh gib teebee tyme to gud fwuffies. Teebee show nice pictas and wearn to wuv, huggsies, and dancies!”
So these creatures prefer and eat human food, speak human language, are able to learn and interact with human devices like a television and god knows what else. Did they implant a child’s brain into these creatures? I try to wrap my head around the ramifications of such a product saturating the market and the effect it would have on kids as well as the numerous species of pets who could be abandoned for the sake of a more convenient and communicative pet/toy.
I leave the television on as I make dinner, Andrea can be heard laughing and giggling along with the kid’s channel. I figured that it was too late to bring her to the factory and that I would do it first thing tomorrow. As I make dinner I notice her uncomfortably pacing in front of the tv occasionally glancing around.
“What’s wrong Andrea? Do you need to go to the bathroom?” I ask.
“Andwea nee’ make gud poopies, buh nuu kno’ where am wittew box…”
“Wittew… a litter box? Umm… I don’t have a litter box, but you can go outside.” I say as I open the door to the back porch and lawn.
“Nnn… mmmhmm, buh Andwea nee’ to make gud poopies in da wittew box, nu can make bad poopies on floow…” she uttered as she was becoming more uncomfortable realizing here usual method of relief was unavailable.
“That’s okay, if you go on the grass by the bushes, they will be ‘good poopies’” I tell her as I point out to the edge of the woods. She was still hesitant as she looked out into the now dark woods and I remembered her fear of the night. I turn on the lights and she happily trots out to the bushes to do her business. After some time, she gleefully runs back to the cabin.
“Dadd… um, Mistuh Awmawd, speshuw fwiend am fowwow Andwea to da c-cawbin!” She stumbled as she put into practice the new word she learned. “Speshuw fwiend am hewe, buh fwiend am scawed of mistuh Awmawd.” Maybe her talking about her imaginary friend is a way to explain she is feeling more comfortable here for now, I think to myself.
“That’s okay, we can let the special friend stay outside, let’s get ourselves something to eat!” I say as we head back inside.
I made a simple dish of noodles seasoned with salt and olive oil, holding the sauce in case her stomach can’t process the acidity. I place the plate down and she has another mind-blowing experience at seeing the plate of pasta.
“Sketties!? W-whu Andwea am gettin sketties!?”
“Andrea, calm down. It’s just noodles, have you had these before?”
“Sketties am da bestest mostest yummiest, nummiest, nummies fo’ aww fwuffies! Onwy da bestest and smawtest fwuffies! Andwea am su happies, dis am da bestest tyme in foweva! Tummeh babbies am gwow big n stwong wiff sketties., am gun teww speshuw fwiend”
I have no idea what half of what she even said made sense, but it put a smile on my face to see her so happy. It sounds like they used food and rewards to solidify behaviors. To her surprise I add some of the sauce to complement the dish and she goes hog wild eating the pasta, leaving smears of tomato sauce all over her face. I clean her up along with the dishes and then nestle her into a pile of blankets and pillows in the living room. She expressed some fear about being left alone in the “dawk” so I moved her out to the living room and keep her company. I stroke her mane as we both watch a nature documentary on the Amazon as we drift off to sleep.
Part 1: The Andrea Incident (Part 1) (Artist - Great_White_Nope)