With their relationship well and truly destroyed, the pair spent their time trying to piss the other off as much as possible. Rosie didn’t go back into the pen in fear that Tricia would find out, instead she flexed her ability to run and play on the immobile foal.
“Baww am suuuuu fun!” Rosie said, chasing the red ball around the room. “Baww am bestest toysie! Wub wunnin’!! Wub yu, guud WEGGIES!!”
Sweetie, eye now mostly healed, played up how nice her toys were and how many she had.
“Bwockies stack suuuuu pwetty! Suuuuu pwetty Sweety nu see dummeh mawe!!” Sweetie shouted over her. “When Sweetie dun pwayin’ wif bestest bwockies, Sweetie pway wif’ pweety bookies! An’ den wif’ stuffie fwends dat dummeh mawe nu hab’!!”
Tricia spent less time with them directly as their passive aggression left her in fits of laughter that she struggled to suppress.
“Maybe Wosie take a nap obah hewe!” She said, waddling after the ball. “Ow obah dewe, Wosie can gu whewebah Wosie wan’!”
“At weast Sweetie nu hab stinkeh dipey wike dummeh mawe.” Sweety giggled.
Rosie gritted her teeth, letting the ball roll behind her litter box. “Does dummeh mawe nee’ tu hewp dummeh babbeh pway? Cuz’ Wosie du dat if meanie babbeh caww Wosie dummeh wun mowe time.”
“Hnnnnng!” Sweetie released a pained moan, dropping the block she was holding.
“Das bettah.” Rosie snorted, going to get her ball. “Dummeh babbeh nu tawk tu Wosie wike dat.”
“HNNNNNNNG!” Sweetie moaned louder. “Owwiiiiiieeeee!”
Rosie paused, glancing at the foal.
“Wai hab tummeh owwies?!” Sweetie yelled, her bloated stomach contorting visibly under her thin fluff. “Nu wan’!! Owwieeee!!”
Rosie shook her head, fishing her ball out from between the litterbox and the wall. “Dummeh babbeh desewb huwties.”
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” Sweetie’s screech startled Rosie, but she grabbed her ball and waddled back to her bed.
“Babbeh desewb huwties.” She said to herself softly.
“BIGGEST POOPIES!!! SCREEEEEEE!!!”
“Babbeh nu am nicey to Wosie.” She soothed herself.
“NU WAN’ NU WAN’ NU WAAAAAAAN SCREEEEEEEEEE!!!”
Rosie clapped her hooves over her ears. “Babbeh nu am guud! NU CAWE IF HAB HUWTIES!!”
Tricia opened the door, excitement in her eyes. “Finally! Oh I was worried I’d run out of vacation!”
Rosie sighed in relief. “Mummah take care of bad babbeh.”
Tricia quickly knelt down in the pen, pulling out her phone to record. “Your babies are coming, Sweetie!”
“BABBEHS HUWT SWEETIE, NU WAN!’!!” she shouted. “SCREEEEEEEE!!”
Rosie saw something fall out of Sweetie’s backside and land in the litterbox. Instead of being brown like poop it was a dark blue and streaked with blood. She looked to Tricia, waiting for her to get up to rescue the foal from the dirty litter.
Sweetie’s head dropped, panting hard. Tricia took the moment of silence to talk to her phone.
“This is one of those forever foals, knocked up like a week and a half ago. I haven’t given her the hormone medication since I got her.”
“SCREEEEEEEE!” Sweetie threw her head back, stomach twisting again as a pink lump fell out of her and into the dirty litter.
“She was totally immobile on like day four of the pregnancy. It was super funny to watch her try to get out of the bed.”
“Uhm… Mummah?” Rosie spoke up. “Babbehs nee’ hewp.”
“SCREEEEEEEE!” another screech from the foal, another lump falling from her.
“Mummah! Babbehs nee’ hewp!!” Rosie protested, running up to the side of the pen.
Tricia turned her phone to Rosie. “I’ve been telling Rosie here that she’s a baby who needs diapers and Sweetie that she’s a fully grown fluffy. I don’t think I ever really got them to believe it but they certainly believed that I believed it, you know?”
“SCREEEEEEE!!!” A dark green form fell from Sweetie and into the litter.
“Who Mummah tawkin’ tu?!” Rosie shouted. “Babbehs nu am poopies, nu gu in wittew box!!”
“SCREEEEEEEEEEE!!!” Another screech left the foal as a rush of bright red blood flowed from her. Her head dropped limply into the bed. “Huuu… huuhuuuu….”
“Mummah pwease!!” Rosie protested.
Tricia got up, to Rosie’s relief, and leaned over the litter box with her phone. “Oh ew. She’s only like two weeks in so I knew they’d be a little under baked but this is just gross.”
“Babbehs…” Sweetie moaned quietly.
“Oh that’s not the placenta! That’s a foal!!” Tricia pushed the phone in closer. “I’m not touching that without gloves, so I’ll take pictures when I do.”
“Am babbehs otay?!” Rosie asked, shuffling over to the side of the pen.
“Oh, this should be good.” Tricia unhooked the litterbox from Sweetie’s bed and brought it over to Rosie. “Here, honey. You tell me.”
Rosie stood up on her hind legs to look into the litterbox as Tricia lowered it.
Four colored forms lay among the shit and blood. The blue foal lay face down in the litter, its fluff ending just below the ribs and its pink intestines laying in loops below its exposed spine. The pink foal’s color was not its fluff but its exposed flesh as it lacked skin entirely. Its eyes were slowly fogging over as Rosie stared. The third foal was purple, having only one eye right in the middle of its face that its upper lip curled up to meet. The last green foal was twisted around itself in a dramatic S shape and was the only foal moving. Its erratic twitches implied it wouldn’t be moving for long.
Rosie turned and vomited, heaving bile and undigested kibble onto the padded floor.
“Oh wow, can’t get a better reaction than that!” Tricia set the litterbox back down and turned off her camera.
“Wai… Wai scawy babbehs?!” Rosie panted, eyes squished closed as if she could hide them from what she saw.
“It’s probably because Sweetie isn’t fully grown.” Tricia said, snapping the wristband of her gloves. “Might have something to do with the hormones, but it’s probably because she’s little.”
“Mummah… knu Sweetie am babbeh?!”
“Mh-hm!” Tricia grabbed the litterbox and set it on the counter, pulling up the green foal to photograph.
Rosie stared at her, baffled. Mummah knew?! “Den… Wai?!”
“It sounded fun.” Tricia replied without looking, setting down the green foal and reaching for the next.
“Fun?! Mummah tink dis fun?!” Rosie shouted. “Wosie nu wike dipey!! Sweetie nu wike habbin’ babbehs!!”
“Oh I know.” Tricia dropped the purple foal back into the litter box. “I just don’t care.”
Rosie’s head hurt as she tried to make sense of anything Tricia was saying. Mummah loved her, right? She played with her, hugged her, gave her good nummies! She must love her, because Rosie loved her!! Why would Mummah hurt something she loved?!
Dropping the blue foal back into the litterbox, Tricia grabbed a black garbage bag from under the sink and dumped the whole thing into it. She hooked it into the drawer pull and stepped back into the pen to grab Sweetie by the scruff with her gloved hand.
Seeing Sweetie limp and dripping blood snapped Rosie from her stupor. “Sweetie!! Sweetie hab huwties??”
“Oh yeah, lots of hurties.” Tricia dropped her into the trash bag.
“Nu! Sweetie by am twashies!!” Rosie ran to the bag. “Sweetie nee’ huggies to make bettah!!”
“Oh, now you care about the dummeh meanie babbeh?” Tricia quoted her in a mocking impression of fluffspeak. “A few minutes ago you hated her.”
“Wosie am wong!!!” Rosie wrapped her hooves around the bag, tears flowing down her cheeks. “Wosie wub fiwstest babbeh, wub wots and wots!! Wosie am dummeh!!”
“You certainly are!” Tricia grabbed her by the scruff and held her over the bag. “You were the best assistant I could have asked for! You did wonderful! Calling her names, destroying her toys, you even fucked up her eye!”
Rosie flinched at the bad word, putting her hooves over her face. “WOSIE AM WOWST FWUFFY EBAH!!”
“Yep! Bye-bye!” Tricia gave her a small wave as she dropped her into the trash bag.
Rosie quickly grabbed Sweetie, holding her tightly to her chest. “Wosie make bettah, babbeh! Wosie su sowwy, nebah tweat babbeh wike dat again!!”
Sweetie’s limp corpse didn’t reply.
Rosie sobbed and wailed, sitting in a mixture of blood, dirty litter, and dead foals while Tricia cleaned up. A shower of blood soaked paper towels came down on top of her before she was plunged into darkness by the bag cinching shut.
Rosie blinked once before her situation became apparent. “WOSIE NU AM TWASHIES! PWEASE MUMMAH!!”
Tricia didn’t reply, tossing the bag over her shoulder as she made her way up the stairs. Rosie was tossed around, coughing as litter was thrown into her mouth.
“WOSIE SOWWY, WOSIE SU SOWWY!!” she pawed at the plastic as she swung back and forth, trying to break through. “WOSIE DU ANYTING MUMMAH WAN, WOSIE BE DUMMEH DIPEY BABBEH, WOSIE BE BESTEST FWUFFY, NU THWOW WOSIE ‘WAY!!”
Rosie started to pant, the air getting thinner by the moment. “Wosie sowwy… huu… Wosie su sowwy…”
She was jostled again, and Sweetie’s corpse landed on top of her. Rosie wrapped her hooves around her foal tightly. “Wosie su sowwy, Sweetie. Wosie am biggest dummeh.”
,and sweetie’s death bloody and are to allow her to at least havent the denouement of knowing that bella loved her,she died in great pain and sad. And bella with her remorse ,i love these stories.