“Another morally questionable day, another dollar.”
I finished filing todays reports and sent the last of my memos to various supervisors that’s inevitably going to go ignored as I pop a Xanax for the ride home. Ok, everything’s done that needs done. Everything filed and put away? Check. Password reset and SD secured? Check. Lights dimmed? Check. Last thing to do is check up on Chestnut and then it’s leaving time.
I walked over to her tank and watched the display. Chestnut was sitting back and watching her not quite foals at play. Cocoa and Smokey were playing what they call “hide and go peepies” (a sort of hide and seek where one tries very poorly to hide and, when found, hug each other and switch places), Aqua and Marine were coloring in some old coloring books I had lying around the house, and Rusty was stacking blocks in the corner. Being her self proclaimed “bestest baby” Rusty naturally garnered all of her praise. When they noticed me they all dropped what they were doing and I was met with a chorus of “MUMMAH ABBI!” and Chestnut raised her hooves up in an uppies position. I obliged which was met with a loving coo.
“Did all the kids behave today sweetpea?”
“Yus mummah Abbi, Wus’y made a bwockies…” the paused and you could practically hear the gears grinding, “fwee bwockies taww!”
“Very good Rusty, that’s my smart boy!” Rusty pranced in place at the praise and I couldn’t help but giggle as I turned my attention back to Chestnut. “What about the others?”
“Ummmm… I- im no’ suwe… Dey maked pwaysies aww bwighttime do’ an wewe nice!”
“Now love you kno-“ ring ring ring ring “Hang on I need to check this.” I set her back down with an audible whimper before turning her attention back to the foals. I pulled my phone out and answered it.
“Doctor Cassidy.”
“Hey Cass, it’s Natasha. From the Breeding Pens, you remember the pregnant mare you brought us about a month back, C-4?”
“Hang on let me think… oh the brown one, made herself into the meat between two pieces of bread if you will. What about her?”
“Well… she just birthed.”
“So, mares birth all the time. They’re like rabbits you should know thi-“
“I know but something different happened this time, I need you to check this out an talk to her”
I rubbed by eyes and sighed, “you know I’m about to leave, I don’t have time to be a therapist to another postpartum fluffy y’know?”
“I know just… come down here and see this, it’ll be worth your time, promise.”
I leaned against the desk and rolled by head back taking a deep breath before grabbing my coat with a soft “goddammit” which was met with a sea of gasps and being reminded not to say bad words. I chastised Chestnut for not watching all of her foals before giving them all a pat, Rusty asked when “skettie time” would be and I gently reminded him that tomorrow he would get is pasta and left as he blew a (to him) hidden raspberry before going out the door and down the hall.
During the long walk to the pens I had some time to reflect on the past month or so. Chestnut and her brood started as just another experiment into this Smarty Syndrom as I’ve called it but they’ve really helped ground me in a way, it just feels so good to be wanted by something. Sure they get on my nerves sometimes but in a way that’s been my point my entire employment, to find out if how we do things is what’s causing this rush of rat bastard behavior and how to change things. Sure the moneys good but I’ve started to get attached to the little guys and this beta test hell isn’t doing what needs to be done to make sure they live an actual life instead of being products under constant review and guinea pigs… heh cause they’re part guine- never mind.
As I opened the door the scene could be best described as chaos, the acrid smell of fluffy shit hit like a brick wall and every one of the breeding mares were some assortment of flailing, screaming, or crying. As I stood their adjusting to the sensory bombardment, Natasha’s voice came over the loud speaker telling me to meet me in her office, which I didn’t waste anytime doing before the hissing of anesthetic being pumped into the room was heard. I’ve never been so thankful for sound proofing in my life. I turned around to find Natasha hunched over her desk, her usual personal appearance and calm demeanor looking unusually out of order as her eyes kept darting between spec sheets and dossiers.
“Nat, no offense but you look like hammered dogshit. What’s the big fuss about?”
“C-4 had an… interesting reaction after her foaling, just take a look at her,” as she opened a carrying case on the floor. As she set the shivering brown mare on the table it immediately curled up, hugging her tail and rocking back and forth mumbling something about a monster and “nu maek sense” over and over.
Nat handed me her after birth report and I gave it a once over. After a failed attempt to calm C-4 down and giving her a quick assessment to make sure nothing was going to kill her i put her back in the cage with her brood which started suckling almost immediately with no reaction from the new mother.
“We’ll it seems like she’s healing well, no active bleeding so it’s not shock. You didn’t note any difficulty as far as labor goes and no stillborns so that shouldn’t be an issue. I mean it is her first time, that’s a traumatic experience for something with the mental capacity of a 4 year old. It’s odd for sure but I’ve worked with these things since grad school, sometimes they just react to stuff far out of the norm.”
Natasha shook her head and laughed, “I knew you were going to say that, you didn’t read the report good enough though. Look at the foal count again and tell me what you see.”
Looking through the report again all seemed normal, standard operation protocols being used, vitals were all normal throughout, one thing did stand out though. “What the hells an alicorn?”
“Glad you asked! Come over here for a second,” Nat said as she as she pulled a picture up on her computer to reveal a Snowdrop White newborn foal obviously in a different area from the breeding pens.
Huh, that’s strange though. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen one with a horn and wings before. “Looks like something out of a Lisa Frank folder. I mean it’s pretty and all, definitely unique and I’d like to see what genetics caused it and what makes it tick but what does this have to do with our bright and beaming new mother over there?”
Nat looked at me confused for a second, “Doc, I think your age is showing a bit… but she didn’t start to act like this until she actually saw it. She complained about a bad smell coming from somewhere, kinda like when a runts born. Normally I don’t have an issue with defects getting splatted but with the color and health of it I figured that one would be a golden child. When she snapped she tried eating it before it was snatched away by one of my assistants. I was thinking you could try and talk to her, maybe try and get in her head a bit cause we might be sitting on a gold mine with this, but it’ll be a pain if my staff has to keep this close an eye on every birth just in case we get another reaction like this. Plus we can’t risk losing too many breeders to a mental breakdown. I’ve already sent the foal to Genetics for testing but I just want to know why. Please? For your favorite Midwife?”
I sighed and rubbed my eyes. “Ok, ok please don’t give me the puppy dog eyes. But you owe me for this. Let me grab some tools, get her and the foals into a brighter, quieter room with more space and I’ll see what I can do.”
She gave me a hug before I walked out the door to see the Sanitation Department cleaning out each pen before gently putting the expecting mothers back in. I feel for those guys, I really do.