The Found, Pt. 1 (by Guest8421)

“Alright, that should be everything Nate! Thanks for the help!”

An old diesel pickup sputtered and roared to life in the driveway of a modest split-level home, filling the quiet street with the sound of squealing rubber and the smell of burning coolant. A young man rolled down the passenger window and grinned, hollering “No problem, John, just pick up my tab next time!” before sending his worn pickup rattling around the bend and out of sight. John smiled and shook his head to himself, before meandering his way inside his new home.

John Abernathy was a fairly normal guy. A touch over six feet tall, a little more weight than he’d like, not really someone you’d look twice at. He graduated from Idaho State University three years ago with a degree in Computer Science and had been working remotely for a tech company based out of Seattle since. He was making good money, especially for someone working alone, and purchased a run down but useable home on the Olympic Peninsula. He told anyone who asked (and himself) that it was to be closer to the office, if the need ever arose.

He stopped and took in the mess. Nate had moved out of their hometown a couple years previous, and recommended the town when he found out John was looking for something closer to Seattle. Nate even offered to help John haul his things across the state, and although John wasn’t sure that truck would even make it past Boise, he wasn’t going to turn down such a generous offer. But Nate wasn’t so keen on the unpacking part, and the mountain of boxes left behind were a rather daunting prospect, so John chose to take a short look around the property.

Mildew-filled bathrooms, faded peeling wallpaper, a stained fluffy saferoom, splotchy carpet, an unkempt backyard with a rickety fence. John sighed. He knew about all these things, of course, but fixing it up had felt a lot more doable when it was a future goal rather than a current reality. He pushed it toward the back of his mind and began unpacking the first box, the bed frame he had ordered in advance. He was just tightening the last bolt when he heard a soft tapping on the screen of the back door.

John grew up on a small crop farm owned and operated by his father in rural Idaho and was no stranger to fluffies or animals in general. Despite that, he didn’t know much about the small creatures, not any more than a farmer would know about rats or crows. He had been taught over the years to identify signs of their presence, ways to keep them away, and how to “dispose” of them. He never quite had the stomach to kill fluffies, or indeed any other of the farm’s animals, which was a source of constant friction between his dad and him.

Feral herds learned quickly that farms were bad news and kept their distance from the human-inhabited structures. So, when John heard a soft tapping on the back door, he had no idea what it could’ve been. When he opened it, he found a small fluffy standing dejectedly with its head down on the back porch. The fluffy was young, John recognized it as a weanling, with dull blue fluff, a brown mane, and a small horn peeking above the ears. The fluffy was glaringly thin and seems to be trembling from exhaustion. As John was about to ask the fluffy what it wanted, it spoke first:

“Pwease nice mistuh, fwuffy wouwd wike sum nummies. Fwuffy hab not had anee in many fowebas. If nice mistuh wan fwuffy to weabe, fwuffy unnastan, fwuffy nu wan twoubwe.”

The fluffy looked up at John and attempted to smile at him, although even this effort was difficult, and it ended up being more of a grimace than anything. John was skeptical. The fluffies he has encountered have generally been difficult or skittish, and either demand food and land or run screaming when confronted. But he feels for the critter and resolves himself to giving the fluffy some food and will take it to a shelter in the morning.

“Ok little fluffy, here is the deal. I will give you some food, but-“

The fluffy’s face lights up immediately and it excitedly exclaims “WEALLY? TANK YU NICE MISTUH! FWU-“

“Wait, I am not done. If you can’t listen, then maybe you do not deserve anything to eat.” John sighed, impatiently tapping his foot and frowning at the small creature. The fluffy hunkered down, ears pinned back, and began to cry, but remains silent. John continues: “I will give you food, and a place to stay for the night, but you need to agree to some things. Firstly, you need to let me give you a bath.” The fluffies sadness was replaced by confusion, although it didn’t dare speak. John sighed again. ‘This is gonna be a long night,’ he thought. “A bath is me cleaning you with warm water and soap. I will not let the water hurt you, you need to trust me.”

“Wawa bad for fluffies” came a soft whispered reply, but John didn’t respond. He didn’t want to scare the thing to death and be left to clean up the aftermath. He knew of fluffies’ severe aversion to water, but it wouldn’t do any good to press the issue right now.

“Second, you need to poop in the spot I tell you too. Do you know what a litterbox is?”

The fluffy lit up with understanding. “Yus! Mummah tawt fwuffy an’ sissies an’ bwudda to make gud poopies, an’ to use wittabaks wen wif hooman mummah owr daddeh! Wiw ‘ou be nyu daddeh fow fwuffy?” The fluffy was dancing excitedly on its hooves now, with a large smile on its face.

“No, I will not be your owner. That is the third thing, in the morning I will take you to a fluffy shelter where you can find a new parent. But I do not want to take care of a fluffy. You can call me ‘John,’ that is my name.” As he said this, the fluffy deflated and started crying again. ‘Jesus, these things switch their emotions fast,’ John thought as he stared at the whimpering unicorn below him. “Do you agree to these rules?” he asked the emotional wreck.

“Yus, Jawn. Fwuffy wiww take baff, make gud poopies, an’ gu tu sheltew neks bwite-time. Fwuffy wan’ nyu daddeh, bu’ fwuffy unnastan.” The fluffy begins to look a little more nervous, and nervously adds on “Fwuffy nu wan’ be meanie, bu fwuffy tummy WEAWWY wumbwy, can fwuffy hab nummies nao pwease?”

“Absolutely, little one,” reassured John, “I will be right back with food for you, wait here.” John walked back to check the pantry. He didn’t bring any food with him, but he hoped the previous owners left something behind. In the pantry, there were a few old cans on the shelves. John settled on a can of green beans, a couple years out of date but not leaking or bulging. He knew fluffies generally enjoyed eating greens, and figured even these old beans would be a cut above this fluffy’s regular diet. He opened the can, drained the beans, and unpacked a plate to put them on. He brought the plate out to the back patio and set it down for the fluffy.

“Tankoo su muchies, Jawn!” the fluffy said in between bites of beans, “dese aw weawwy gud nummies!”

“Of course, little fluffy, be careful not to eat too fast, you don’t want to be sick.” John said. His heart was beginning to soften a little, seeing the enthusiasm this little one had for such a simple meal highlighted that this was just a small, scared, soul looking for an ounce of kindness. The fluffy stopped eating, let out a small burb, and cooed in contentment. John picked the plate back up (the fluffy ate barely a quarter of the can) and placed it on the counter.

“Ok fluffy, it is time to take a bath now, do you think you could go to the bathroom out here first before?”

The fluffy looked uneasy, but said “Yus, fwuffy wiww go in da bushies, wiww be wight back,” before making its way over and doing its business behind the nearest bush. A minute later, the fluffy came walking back over before inquiring “Jawn, wawa bad fo’ fwuffies, wiww ‘ou be cawefuw wif fwuffy? Fwuffy scawed, but twust Jawn,” while looking down to avoid eye contact.

“I will not let the water hurt you, fluffy. Just give me one moment to gather the supplies.” John explained, walking back inside to unpack a few things. He got out a couple towels, a washcloth, and set aside a shallow box from the bed frame. He first grabbed the dish soap to make sure to get the grime off the fluffy quickly, but then decided against it. He wasn’t sure how sensitive fluffy skin was, but didn’t want to use his new charge as a test subject, so instead unpacked his shampoo. He knew it likely still wasn’t ideal, but it would hopefully not do any damage. He brought a towel, the soap, and the washcloth into the downstairs bathroom, before going to collect the fluffy.

“Ok little one, time to clean you up!” John said with a smile, hoping to ease the nerves of the fluffy, but this was only met with a hesitant nod and closed eyes, causing the foal to emit a soft “eep!” upon being picked up. He carried the fluffy into the bathroom and filled the sink with warm water. However, upon lowering the fluffy in, he was met with an exclamation of “Tu hawt! Tu hawt! Hewp fwuffy! Wawa bad! Chirp!” before quickly pulling it out.

“Sorry! You’re ok, I’ve got you, I’m sorry little one,” john said apologetically. He noticed the fluffy had loosed its bowels in the water, he figured it must have been scared and surprised. He drained the sink and wiped off the bowl, before refilling the sink with lukewarm water instead of warm. He then comforted the critter, petting it and soothing it while it recovered.

“Fwuffy sowwy, did nu mean to make bad poopies, sowwy Jawn!” the fluffy stammered out, clearly terrified at having broken the rules. It cowered behind its hooves, trembling, although beginning to calm at John’s touch.

“It is alright little one, I should’ve checked to make sure you were ok with the temperature. Here, how is this?” He reassured, dipping his finger in the water and wiping it on the forehead of the foal.

“Dat am bettew, tank ‘ou Jawn, fwuffy wiww do baff.” The fluffy stood up and looked to be steeling itself for the trial to come. Inwardly, John thought it was adorable, although he was still guilty about scaring the poor thing. John then tested a small amount of shampoo on the back of the fluffy, to which it affirmed it did not hurt and that “fwuffy wikes smeww-pwetty coldies!”

John lowered the fluffy in slowly, and gently massaged the soap into the fluff and mane. Upon contact with the water, the fluffy stiffened, but soon realized how comfortable the experience was and began cooing as it was petted. As he cleaned, John found a couple small scars on the fluffy, as well as determining that it was in fact a mare. John washed her carefully, wiping with the washcloth as she softly cooed “tank ‘ou fow bestest not-wickie-cweanies Jawn.” One quick rinse and dry later, and what once appeared to be a dull blue coat was actually a striking aquamarine, with a mane that is a pleasant beige rather than a mottled brown. The fluffy was preoccupied looking in the mirror, saying things like “su pwetty!” and “smeww su nicies!” obviously pleased with the end result.

John did not want to keep referring to her as just fluffy, so resolved to change that. “Fluffy, do you have a name?” he implored.

“Nu, fwuffie nu hab namesie, am just fwuffy. Mummah towd dat me an’ sissies an’ bwudda would hab namesies fwom hooman. Wiww Jawn gib namesies, pwease?” The fluffy requested, a pleading look in her eyes. John couldn’t help but be reminded of 50’s style diners with her color scheme, so came up with her name on the spot.

“How about Dotty? Does that sound good to you?” He said

“Fwuffy namesie am Dawtty? YAY! Fwuffie wub nyu namesie! Tank ‘ou su muchies Jawn!” Dotty rattled off excitedly. All of a sudden, she got an intense look of concentration on her face and began swinging her arms wildly in all directions.

John was confused, and asked “Dotty, are you ok? What are you doing?”

Dotty smiled and stopped, giggling “of cowse am otay, Jawn! Dawtty am dancies, becuz wub nyu namesie su muchies!” as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. John couldn’t help but laugh in response.

“Of course, Dotty, how silly of me to ask.” John smiled, looking down at the little uncoordinated bundle of joy in front of him. ‘No’ he thought to himself, ‘You shouldn’t have named her. Her new owners may have wanted to do that, now she might not get adopted.’ He had to remind himself he didn’t have time for a pet, let alone a fluffy, and Dotty would not be able to stay. He decided to distract himself by preparing the safe room, firstly getting a litterbox ready. Telling Dotty he would be right back, he was met with an “Otay!” as she relaxed in the towel.

He already had a useable box, the one his headboard came in looked to be shallow enough for Dotty to step into easily. He then went out to the garage, full to the brim with things owned by the previous owner. ‘God damnit,’ thought John, ‘the closing contract said this had to be emptied.’ Not worth worrying about now though, John did not have enough stuff to need the room quite yet. In the back corner, he found what he was hoping for, a half empty bag of kitty litter. It was obviously very old and very cheap, likely for cleaning up spills, but it would do the trick.

John poured some into the ‘litterbox,’ set that in the corner of the saferoom upstairs, set up an old pillow and a towel for Dotty to use as her bed, and placed the plate of green beans down so she could eat if she got hungry. He went downstairs to get her and found her passed out on the towel. ‘Poor thing,’ he thought, ‘she must be absolutely exhausted.’ He bundled her up, her cooing softly and opening her eyes slightly before asking “Whewe goin, Jawn?”

“To your room for the night. There is some food, a bed, and a litter box for you there.” John explained softly. Dotty smiled slightly, and sighed out “Tankoo, Jawn. Dottie su happies.” As they made their way there, John set her down next to the litter box and said “Ok, this is your litterbox, you can go to the bathroom in there.” Dotty sluggishly stood up, stepped in, and did her business. “Excellent work, Dotty! I’m so proud of you!” John said encouragingly. “Now let’s get you into bed.”

John and his father, while often at odds, had plenty of good moments together. John’s father, Charles Abernathy, was not a cruel man to animals, he just recognized sometimes there was no saving them. He was also very keen on research into animal behavior. From him, the most universal thing John learned about animals is that “immediate reinforcement is key. Nothing works better when training an animal, and that goes for just about all of them.”

John had heard plenty about fluffy behavior and had experienced it firsthand. It was considered by most, even including his father, that fluffies require at least some abusive physical or psychological correction to maintain good behavior. John personally thought that seemed odd, and the studies he had read on the subject seemed heavily tainted with a bias that meant the results did not have much meaning. He knew it was certainly possible physical abuse actually was required, but he wanted to avoid it if at all possible. He did not want to put Dotty through any more than she had already experienced.

Dotty walked over to the pillow and immediately began snoring. John shut the door to the saferoom, turned out the light, and immediately felt his eyelids grow heavy. The day had been long, and he needed some rest. Thankfully, it was Friday, so he had the weekend to adjust. ‘I’ll drop Dotty off first thing in the morning’ he thought as he drifted to sleep, ‘then I’ll unpack the rest and be ready for work on Monday.’ As he laid there, on his unmade mattress in his not-so-empty home, his last thought before sleep took him was of Dotty, and he smiled.


First story, not a ton of experience with writing, feedback is appreciated.

16 Likes

Good start. Consider swapping perspectives to show what’s in the fluffy mind. Could be an easy opener for explaining her odd behavior. Defeatist resignation at likely rejection isn’t uncharacteristic for a feral. Perfect behavior unquestioning loyalty and her faith that she would find someone to name her are.

Less about the writing but positive Reinforcement just means additive. A sorry stick is positive punishment by adding pain to the fluffy. A sorry box is negative punishment by removing the room. A sketti treat or vocal affirmation are positive rewards. Giving a pass on chores would be a negative reward.

3 Likes

Thank you for the advice! I plant to swap to Dotty’s backstory for the second part, because you’re definitely right that her behavior isn’t usual for a feral. As for the reinforcement vs punishment part, that is really interesting, and I didn’t know that. Will correct in a minute.

I liked it, dotty is very polite

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Good start to what seems to be a nice hugbox-y story with a new owner and a feral fluffy.

John’s speech is weirdly stilted and formal in places - it doesn’t read like casual conversation by a native speaker but more like casual conversation by someone who knows English as a second language (no offence intended if this is the case).

Similarly Dotty has much the same speech patterns, only in fluffspeak. Example: “Pwease nice mistuh, fwuffy wouwd wike sum nummies."
A more natural way of saying it would be “Pwease nice mistuh, kan fwuffy hab sum nummies?”
This could be explained by Dotty having been taught to speak in formal polite English by human owners, but there’s as yet no information on how she ended up alone on John’s doorstep without her family.

The formatting is good and makes the story readable, although there are some places where a new paragraph would be nice, for example when the speaker changes between John and Dotty.

Interested to see where this goes, so keep up the good work. :slight_smile:

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Thanks! Yeah, English is my first language, but essentially all the writing I have done for the past few years has been research papers for college, so I’m assuming that’s where that is coming from, I’ll try and loosen up the dialogue a bit.

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Yeah, I know that feeling - I have to be careful to try and keep the voice and tone of my characters and not revert back to my fairly technical English as I usually write scientific reports.

One tip I find that helps, is to actually try saying the dialogue out loud and listening to how it sounds. Once I get it sounding more natural, I then further modify it based on the character, e.g. their personality, background, education level, etc.

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Can’t wait for part 2. :slight_smile:

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