Sam saved the checklist to his phone and stood up from the table, walking over to the fridge he grabbed a seltzer and cracked it open, taking a long drink before turning around and heading back down the hallway.
Passing the closet he continued to the metal door at the end of the hallway that opened onto the garage. Flipping the switch on the wall he was greeted by his used honda civic, and boxes stacked up to the ceiling filling the majority of the space. Mementos from when his parents passed and they had to sell their homes to afford the funeral bills.
After a few minutes of rummaging around Sam found the crate that belonged to Turbo once upon a time, the small white Scottish terrier had been an anniversary gift for his mom after Sam moved out to fill the house with some noise. Back when dogs were more common, now the disused travel crate held only a collar and what was once a favorite blanket.
With slight reverence, Sam wrapped the collar within the blanket and placed it in a wooden chest also stacked within the junk. Taking slight comfort in knowing he was with his people at least, Sam stood and brought the carrier inside and down the hallway to the closet door. Stepping inside, he took a wet wipe from a box on the counter of the small sink and gave the inside of the crate a cursory wipedown.
Opening the saferoom propper he was greeted by the incessant chatter only a fluffy left by itself can make,“Winwin stack bwockies wike dis wun tuuu tweee YAAAAY Winwin stack bwockies so guud! Now take DIS!”. With a swing of one stumpy appendage the cornerless FluffySafe blocks tumbled to the ground, each making a distinct animal sound as Linlin pumped her hooves in zealous cheer.
“Linlin, it’s time to go on a trip, now I need you to go potty then pick one blanket and toy, and bring it in this crate so we can go check on your babies, okay?”. Linlin who hadn’t even noticed her daddy until that point was excited at first, rocking back and forth until she could get her babybulk moving enough to roll forward onto all fours.
Moving a few steps towards Sam, suddenly she processed what he’d said and her smile died along with her speed until she stopped halfway between the blocks and the crate. Her entire body was flat to the floor as a pregnant mare could be, ears down,lower lip trembling. “Nuuu… nu wan sowwy box huuuuuuuuu. Winwin nu am bad fwuffy pweez daddeh Winwin nu kno wat du but am su sowwy.”
She began sobbing as she shit herself from fear, causing even worse hysterics as she covered her face with her hooves in absolute despair. “SCREEEEE NUUUUUUHUUUUHUUUU BAD POOPIES MEANS HURTIES AND HURTIES BA FO TUMMEH BABBEHS HUUUUUUHUUUUUU”
Sam stood there flabbergasted, what the actual fuck was wrong with this retarded ass shitpig? He looked down at his hands and thought about it, was it REALLY worth all this just for the off chance she had decent babies? There was only one way to know.
He put the carrier on the floor, walked across to the dog bed and cheap cloth blanket, then brought the blanket and a huggy toy clearly meant for a foal back over to the crate. He laid the blanket inside the carrier then tossed the toy in on top of it before turning back to Linlin who had in the midst of her sobbing fallen face-first into her own shit somehow.
Picking her up by the scruff, he walked over to the crate, tipped it over on its back, then dropped her in from waist height before locking the door to it and grabbing it by the handle. He placed the carrier by the door before going back to clean up the poopies and scooping the litter box, then taking Linlin out to his car and after backing out placing her in the rear passenger seat so he could see her in the rearview mirror.
Linlin had continued sobbing incessantly, her pwetty pink fur covered in poopies and itching where it had dried. She began trying to lick herself clean when the horrible taste made her make sickie wawas. Then, all around her a vroom-vroom munsta began to roar at her! She was so scared she made even more scaredy poopies!
Sam gripped the wheel so hard he heard his knuckles pop, looking in the mirror at the disgusting slop that coated the biotoy he rolled down the windows and pulled out of the driveway while muttering under his breath.
The vet’s office thankfully had an auto-wash station for fluffies of all sizes, all he had to do was strap Linlin into the restraints, close the large plexiglass door, swipe his credit card, and pick a setting. It was priceless watching Linlin side-eye the sprayer as it lowered into position, then right before it started the enema nozzle surprised her from behind! When she opened her mouth to scream the spinning stream hit her right in the uvula, making her puke into the floor moment before those jets painted her with it again.
Once I’d stopped laughing and gotten my much cleaner fluffy out after a 2nd cycle, we made our way into the clinic and sat to wait our turn with a handful of other owners and their shitrats. After a short wait we were escorted back to a room where I was instructed to place Linlin on the table, one look over the edge and a squeaky fart came out as she backed up to the middle again.
Dr. Thomas was a kind older man with deep laugh lines and a full albeit thin set of gray hair on his head, his very presence seemed to put Linlin at ease when he entered the room. Taking her chart from the pocket behind the door, he flipped through it as he turned and looked at Linlin, her tail wagging slightly as she stepped forward to smell his hand and whispering “nice mistah” under her breath.
Sam looked down at Linlin, then up at Dr. Thomas a look of bewilderment plain upon his face that the nightmare fluffy was being so relaxed. “Veterinarian grade safe-fluffy spray. Started using it a few years back to wash the lab coats, it overrides any other pheromones the fluffy uses to interpret their environment so they only focus on the ‘kind human’ in front of them”
Giving Linlin a gentle scratch behind the ears she leaned further and further into Dr.Thomas’s hand until she was laying on her back with her two left legs in the air, he reached forward and began to feel her milkie-places and slightly above them, counting silently to himself. Taking off his surgical gloves the doctor reached into a bluer ceramic jar on the counter before pulling out a small treat in the pressed shape of a pile of spaghetti. He returned and fed the treat to Linlin who took it with a soft “Tanks fo nummies nice mistah om nom nom” while continuing to scratch between her ears.
Over the next minute or so Linlins constant quiet babbling that fluffies use to narrate their inner thoughts autonomously got slower and slower until with a final soft frrrt plop the fluffy shit itself and fell deep asleep. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep sigh “fucking finally”.
The vet gave Sam a bemused glance, “trouble in paradise I presume?”. With a short bark of laughter Sam folded his arms in front of him. “You could say that, I found this pregnant feral and wanted to do the right thing by raising her but holy fuck shes jumpy doc”
“Hmmm, a feral you say? In that case…” Dr Thomas took a small case of tools out and began moving in a circle around Linlin, checking hooves, eyes, teeth, range of motion, and finally using a speculum to check her special place. “Aaaah, I thought so” he sighed as he slid out the tool and placed it on the tray with the others to be sanitized.
“This here is your classic case of ‘Enfie mare’, you can tell by the scarification of the vaginal walls and the lack of fur above the back of the hooves”. Taking her hoof pad in his hand the doctor ran his finger along the two bald patches above pads on her rear feet to emphasize. “The enfie mares are usually used as manual labor between fuck sessions until they’re too big to move, if they try to slow down at all the toughies will nip their heels until they either get to it or manage to bite through the tendon and cripple the leg”
“Yikes” Sam muttered subconciously under his breath, “I know right?” The doctor commented, placing Linlin back in her crate and closing it up. “That would explain why she’s so jumpy, once she has her foals and see’s you won’t take them anywhere she should warm up a lot more”
Sam thanked the doctor and took Linlins carrier with her inside out front to the register where a large pushcart sat loaded with everything on his list. After paying for his goods, getting it loaded, and sliding the young clerk a $20 for his troubles, Sam got back in his car and headed towards home with the still-sleeping Linlin. Ready to begin the next chapter of his adventure, whatever it may hold.