Chapter 12
Micro fluffies. Adam had nearly forgotten the Mill even had them. He usually worked with the regular fluffies and not the variants. Yet this time he was being called to transport them. Why they were called micro fluffs and not mini fluffs, Adam didn’t know. The name stuck anyways. They were essentially dwarf fluffies, their adult size being about the size of an adolescent foal. Adam disliked them. They were smaller and even more fragile than a regular fluffy. It made them hard to punish or for an owner to interact with.
Adam had to do some sorting. The microfluffs were harder to sort. They had to be caught just as or before they were giving birth. There weren’t cages fit for them. All they could do was move them to what was essentially a kid’s hamster cage when they were pregnant, have staff close by, and a camera pointed at them. They miscarried too easily. The floor of their cage was paper toweling, as they took away foals quickly. Only those with no visual impairment were allowed to deal with the micro fluffy foals. Adam had washed his hands and entered the room just in time, as the micro fluff was pushing out her last foal. She was robin’s egg blue with a white tail and mane
“SCREEEEE!” She screamed, the foal the size of a jelly bean sliding out. She panted, and started to turn, only for a hand to be in her way. “Wha? Nice mista? Nee see babbehs.” The earthy mare tapped her front hooves on Adam’s hand anxiously, trying to find a way around. She was too weak to walk that distance. “Pwease, nice mista! Babbehs nee wicky cweanies, an miwkies, an wuv, an huggies…” the mare went on, but Adam had tuned her out.
He carefully gathered the corners of the toweling, pinching them together and lifting the foals. They were still sticky with amniotic fluid, but it wasn’t enough to threaten the structural integrity of the paper toweling. Still, he moved them over to the soft towel on the table. He had to sort them on the towel or they’d die from the cold of the table. It was funny to see the first time. They were so small and cooled quickly. Luckily it had been a bad batch, or he might have gotten into more trouble.
Adam lifted his hand after lifting away the foals, and the mare gasped.
“Babbehs!? Whewe babbehs?!” She was now anxious, and crying. “Huuuhuuu! Mummah am wowst mummah eva! Wose babbehs!” She cried.
Adam rolled his eyes, and decided to shut her up. “Your foals are here. I have to clean them and make sure they’re healthy.” He said. He was guessing she was a first time mother, and eager. He lifted her up.
“EEEE! Bad upsies!” She cried, wiggling.
“Don’t wiggle. I might drop you.” That at least shut her up, but she whimpered, her tail between her legs. He set her into a separate cage that was subdivided into six sections. This was for the new mothers. They had room to feed, sleep, and use the bathroom. Since the bottles were too big for them, it was easier to just let the micro fluffy mothers feed them. They could shell out plenty for specialty bottles, but why do that when the mothers had a good track record? For whatever reason, the micro fluffies were more accepting of different colors and alicorns. Adam didn’t know if it was their own breeding process or whatever, but they’d only had a few deaths, all but one incident being accidents. The only non accident was a mother who’d had previous issues.
The microfluffs tended to have some more freedom than the regular fluffs. They didn’t go into breeding cages. They got to be in single sex pens and see each other through the mesh. It was the extremely rare breeds and pregnant mares that were separated.
Looking over the foals, they were good colors. Four of them. They had to be inspected with a magnifying glass to make out a horn nub or wings as well as determining the sex of them. The first one was a pale yellow that was almost white. He carefully cleaned it off with a wet wipe. It was too small to even tell a tail color. It ended up being an earthy stallion. Good colors. He set it by the mother, who cheered to have her foal with her. She hugged him, then let him feed. The second to be cleaned off was a soft lavender with darker purple spots. Looking with the magnifying glass, they were vaguely heart shaped. This one was a filly and appeared to have a little horn nub. A unicorn, then. She was set by the mare, and fed as well.
The third little foal was a special one. It was as if she was split down the middle. Likely it was meant to be two foals, but the egg didn’t split fully. The left side of her looked much like her mother. Robin blue. The right side of her looked white as her mother’s mane. She was a very pretty pegasus filly. Adam cleaned her off and set her by the mother. Finally the last one. It was green, but had curly fur. A rare gene. Adam suspected he’d be kept as breeding stock, even if he didn’t have the highest drive. Adam cleaned him off gently. The curls would be a pain to clean, but those who could afford it wanted what they wanted. This stallion was handed to the mother. “That’s all of them.” He told her gently.
The mare gasped. “Such pwetty babbehs! Mummah make dese babbehs?” after sniffing all of them, she was letting the two others feed. “Am aww mummah’s babbehs! Wuv babbehs!” she launched into a mummah song.
Adam was glad she was at least enthusiastic. The micro fluffies tended to be that way. They could be kept easily in a small space and were quite happy with that. They got to keep their foals until they weaned, unless there was someone who specifically ordered a micro fluffy foal.
He checked the other dams. They were in varying stages of pregnancy, but only one looked like she might pop that day. After he wrote the specifics of the foals, he made a note that the sparkling silver microfluffs was likely next to give birth.
Next he got to work with unloading product. There was a lot of products for microfluffs. Mostly things found in a dollhouse. There were all sorts. They looked more like an ant house; where one side was plastic and the owner could see them play. It was hinged so the front could open for the owner to place in, take out, add or subtract things. Whatever they wanted. Adam saw a few cave or pirate sets he would have loved as a kid. Though he probably would have used his action figures. Adam had a neutral attitude bordering on disdain even as a kid. He liked bugs and lizards back then.
He looked over the boxes that showed smiling kids and micro fluffies held by the scruff or the middle that had photoshopped smiles. He could tell by the fear in their eyes that the microfluffs in the commercial were distressed, maybe hurt. Ah well. The accessory boxes were included. It had things like mirrors, dressers, couches, and beds for the dollhouses. For the cave explorer, it had a small mine cart to go on the track, boulders, and LED torches to be put in their holders. The things were designed to be easy to clean, but it was far more interactive than any toys Adam could remember. All parts of the toys were fluffy accessible with soft floors, gentle ramps, and other such accommodations so fluffies could play with the toys like living dolls.
The micro fluffies certainly had far less discipline. There was a VERY thin sorry stick, but most recommended a light flick or a light snap of a rubber band. Even then, owners had to be careful. Sorry boxes were just small cardboard boxes. Or a strip of cardboard that got folded in two, and taped so it made a box within the corner of a room. Not that microfufflies needed a whole room. Most of the time, they got colorful enclosures the size of a storage container. They were clear like aquariums so the owner could see them from every angle. The water bottles and other accessories were attached via suction cup. There were specially fitted mats for easy cleaning when the fluffy either had an accident or was intentionally not using their little litter box with specially made micro litter.
There were even wheels for them! Hamster like wheels made of solid but translucent plastic so they could see their surroundings but had nothing their paws could get hurt on. They could get their exercise that way. The toys were much the same as for a normal fluffy, but smaller and slightly different material. The blocks were made of soft foam, and the balls were more like Pom Pom balls. Adam took the whole stack into the stock room for the stocker to put in the store. Micro fluffies were a relatively new thing for the Mill to be selling. It took time to get their impressive pedigrees and colors consistent. They were almost ready to be sold. The Mill would be selling their products shortly before the microfoals themselves would be put on display. It would likely be a few of the best behaved families ready for sale.
Next he had to check on the Angora fluffies They were a specialty type that had more rabbit in them than most. They indeed had hooves and the horse bodies, but they tended to move their back legs as one. Their ears tended to be longer, and their fur grew long and plentiful. They required frequent trimmings. Luckily the fluffies here knew to let themselves be trimmed. They were left with their fur after the first refusal until it was unclean, too hot, weigted them down, and didn’t let them see. They were begging to be trimmed regularly after that.
Adam was giving them their feed, which was mostly vegetables. They got a special diet. They didn’t like kibble, probably because most used fluffy meat as a protein substitute. The angora fluffies tended to like vegetables. If one looked close to their mouth, the front teeth were a tad more pronounced like buck teeth. Many fluffy heads raised as Adam came into the room.
“Mowning, nice mista!” Most of the fluffies said variations of this greeting. Their tails swished on the floor, gathering all sorts of debris, including litter and food. Adam sighed. It was only brushing, but it could take forever with these guys. He sat on the ‘hoomin chaiw’, and beckoned the fluffies over. “Alright, angoras. It’s brushing time.”
“Yay! Bwushies!” “Wan feew pwetty!” The fluffies clambered over to Adam. The one to get there first was a jet black fluffy with a white mane. It almost tripped over its hooves. Adam only knew it was a she because he went to the female pen first. Plus their rears were closely sheared. For the stallions it was also their rear and around their ‘no-no stick’. Unfortunately fur has tangled or stuck together in the heat of fluffy passion. Taking them apart was an experience nobody, fluffy or human worker, wished to repeat. The angoras were usually more chill, thankfully. Not smart, but they preferred to lay about and talk with a friend or two. They did require more bathing, grooming, and dietary care.
Adam settled the little lady on his lap and began brushing her with the specialty brush the workers used. It was meant to detangle them while being gentle. It was one of the few jobs they could be gentle with. Adam was indeed gentle, and the fluffy was soon cooing about ‘nice bwushies’. Adam took his time with this job, untangling knots, and giving the good fluffies a treat after they got their fur all brushed out. The black and white mare hopped away after getting brushes.
Next he took an eggplant purple angora with a green mane. They didn’t specifically need to be special designs. The angora fluffy as a species they perfected and bred was specialty enough. They could be shit brown and people would demand for them. The Mill went for attractive colors, though. They were still working on consistently getting patterns, much like with the micro fluffies. The angora fluffies were currently being sold, though.
The males were a tad more difficult to groom. They were horny about all the time. Breeding like rabbits came to mind. Even brushing them, they wanted to take several ‘Enf breaks’. Luckily the solution for this was each angora fluff getting their own personal enfie toy. The inside had a collection for their…genetic material left behind. They were instructed to only use their enfie toy. No sharing. They didn’t want mixing of semen. That made things all the more complicated. Adam did laugh a few times how the fluffy was calm one minute, then suddenly became erect, and would say ‘Nee downsies! Enfies!’ Adam would set them down, and they’d hop over to their very used enfie toy, use it for a few minutes, then amble back over, slower and more relaxed.
It took longer, but there were worse jobs. At least he didn’t have to collect the vials from the enfie toys. That, and litter box cleaning was the worst part. The litter boxes just for the smell alone. Though Adam did deal with more he’d prefer with brushing the angora fluffs. Their rears may be closely shaved for easier cleaning, but shaving them bald wouldn’t even work. Luckily the diet and rabbit genes kept the angora fluffy crap more pellets. Still, it could stick to fur.
Adam sighed as he now had to check on the younger angora fluffs who didn’t want to get sheared yet. There were always young ones that refused, despite the warning from parents and older peers. They had to experience the downside for themselves. Adam knew it was a scary experience to be sheared. The buzzer made a loud noise. If they moved suddenly, the clippers could nick them. They claimed the feel of their fur going away felt strange. Though Adam did notice afterwards they were always running around, feeling faster and lighter.
He opened the door, feeling a wave of warmer air. The room was kept warmer and more humid to make it as miserable for them as possible without actually harming them. It was divided in two, mares and fillies on one side, colts and stallions on the other. Many had soiled themselves, and it was sticking to their fur. It smelled putrid, but it was likely nothing compared to how the fluffies felt, walking through it, and having to lay in the pee. Their fur absorbed much of it like a filthy mop. He heard many fluffies crying pitifully. Some might have even been growing mold. He saw one waddling along, only to step on his own fur, and faceplant. “Owies!” He heard.
“See, fluffies? This is why you get sheared. So you don’t end up dirty or hurt. You’re all dirty and feel too hot.” He said. Most of the fluffies rushed over to him, nearly all of them face planting within the first few steps. As expected, many were begging for the ‘Nu smeww pwetty fwuff’ to go away. “Alright, but you guys need baths first. That helps the no smell pretties go away. It helps the groomer too.” there were some grumbles at this but not many. They accepted it by now, and baths weren’t nearly as scary. Adam was glad he didn’t have to wash them. Though he’d heard that they didn’t have to be dried off right away due to their fur being so dense and warm. But when they were dried, they had to be dried very throughly.
Adam had to take them a few at a time. He held them around the middle, using gloves, and holding them a fair distance from himself, even though they whined about wanting huggies and wuv. Yeah, f*ck that. He wasn’t going to hug piss and shit covered fluffies. Out of his pay grade. The poor sod washing them or the groomer could do that. Hell, Adam would do it if he was around after they were clean…but not a moment before.
Next was the little juveniles. Untrained people like him could trim them. They only needed a small clip with scissors before their hooves and before their eyes. The mothers worried, of course, but Adam found the key was to look really serious, even if he was bored. The mares tended to trust him more if he looked like he was concentrating hard on the job. And to do the eyes last. The little foals would freak out and wiggle at the sight of a weapon, but if their eyes were covered by hair, they could only hear a ‘funny sound’.
Adam went in, hiding the scissors in a pocket on his overalls. They were nothing special, metal scissors with a rubber grip to prevent slipping. Adam was fairly sure they were kitchen scissors, if he was being honest. They looked like the type his cousin bought from Target.
He was greeted by several angora fluffies. They had their face fur longer for a reason. The Mill didn’t take runts, so they took the ‘bad babbehs’ away, but angora fluffies also feared Alicorns. But they couldn’t tell by sense of smell. If they couldn’t see the fluffy, they couldn’t freak out. Unfortunately the foals did need to be trimmed so they could use their eyes. They found that not trimming their face fluff led to blindness or weak vision in their adult life. The adults being mostly blind while giving birth and a month or so after had little to no lasting effects.
Adam patted the one mother he settled by. She was white like a cloud, and cooed at the pets. “I’m going to give your little foals trims, okay?” He said, even though it wasn’t a question.
The mother nodded. “Yus. Pwease be cawefuw wif waddle babbehs, nice mista.” She said worriedly.
“I’ll be super careful. They need to be able to see, you know. Nobody wants to be a no see place fluffy.” He reminded her and other fluffies. He gently grabbed one of the fluffies from under her. Angora fluffies did travel with foals on their back, but otherwise they laid on them, similar to a chicken. Weird, but whatever. It was always a mystery, pulling the foals out. He never knew what kind or what color he grabbed until it emerged. The first one pulled out was a squirming golden chirpy. Oh, this one was being kept and bred he could tell. Adam didn’t know the sex, and didn’t bother to check. It wasn’t his job. Instead he slid the scissors in front of the chirpie’s legs, snipping the fur there. Next was the back legs. The chirpie peeped and looked around for the sound, but was unable to. Chirpies were easier, since they couldn’t see yet, but it was best for them to get used to the feeling, and be ready to walk when they were able to. There were also some walkie talkie foals around, many that were taking cautious steps or kept falling over themselves. Adam carefully slid the scissors in front of the chirpie’s face, and snipped, revealing the small snout and still shut eyes. “There we go.” He said. “When they open their eyes, they’ll be able to see.” He let the mare sniff the foal, proving to her there was no blood. They never let the mare see the foals, in case there were alicorns around. Their noses worked well enough for this situation.
The mare seemed much more relaxed that her foal was fine. She stood a little higher so it was easier to get her foals.
Adam gave them all the five simple cuts. The gold one had been the most spectacular foal she had, but she also had a cream colored foal that was pretty. Chirpies were pretty easy to trim, since they didn’t move much. They could wiggle, and occasionally flail those little limbs, but without much strength or determination unless they were in distress. Adam tried not to give them a reason to be.
The walkie talkie foals were a tad more difficult. Adam had to explain it again to their mothers, despite being in the same room. The mares who’d had more than one litter knew the drill, and were relatively willing. “Remember, they’ll be scared after when they see I was holding scissors. But I won’t hurt them.” Adam said. He actually liked to work with the angora fluffies. They were far less mouthy and far more chill. He could imagine letting one of these around his house and not having to worry about shit all over unless a car alarm went off…which was unfortunately frequent in his neighborhood. Not because of robberies, but the asshole kids that kept hitting the neighbor’s car. The neighbor who took forever to shut off the damn alarm.
Adam picked up a sky blue one, who’s wings were buzzing. They stuck up in the fluffy’s fur, making the fur around it shimmer like waves from the vibrations.
“Wheee! Fwuffy fwying!” It exclaimed, floppy ears twitching.
Long fur or not, it was still a fluffy. Adam snipped the fur in front of the front hooves. He saw an ear twitch from the foal.
“Wat dat soundie?” It asked.
“Don’t worry about it. Focus on flying.” Adam gave him a few light bounces, which made the foal go back to laughing and exclamations about flying. Luckily he wasn’t flailing his hooves much, so Adam was able to snip the fur. Now he had to get the fur in front of his eyes.
The foal titled his head, unable to tell the silver thing in front of his face was a blade. he could only tell the outline. But then Adam snipped the fur and pulled the scissors away. “Screee! Nu huwt fwuffy!” He cried, flailing more.
“Babbeh otay?” The mare asked, worried.
Adam was quick to hand the foal off. “He’s fine. He got scared by the scissors.” He spoke to the foal. “You’re not hurt. The scissors are so you can see.” He said.
The fluffy, being hugged by his mother, seemed to process this. “Gasp! Babbeh can see nao! See pwaces wowk!” He was let down, and pranced about, not even noticing the trim on his legs.
The process went similar to this for the rest of the trimming. Adam had this process down. He interacted with these fluffies the most since they were his favorite. He even considered adopting one as his fluffy. They were expensive as hell…but they were also quite unique.