VALENTINE
A Pegasus Story
Chapter Six – A Loving Home
Weeks passed, and Valentine got bigger and bigger. She loved her saferoom, which “daddeh Eeyan” painted bright blue with pretty white clouds to look like the sky. Every day, when her mummah came home from “skoow”, she would pick Valentine up and zoom her around the room. Valentine giggled and flapped her wings.
“Wook, mummah! Vawentine am fwyin’!”
giggle “Yeah! Fly faster, Valentine! Fly like the wind!”
Eventually, Susie’s arms would get tired and she would sit down next to her fluffy and read her a story from her school books. The pegasus loved to sit and listen to her read, and she especially loved the story where the fluffy flew to the moon.
Valentine was still lonely for most of the day. Susie would wake up in the morning, come down from her bedroom to feed her and play with her for a few minutes, but then she would be off to “skoow”. Valentine played with her blockies and her ball for a while, but she could only build so many towers and crash them, and bounce the ball between herself and the wall before she got sad that Susie wasn’t home.
“Why mummah haf gu tu skoow? Mummah nu wan pway wif Vawentine?”
“I’m sorry, Valentine. I promise that we can play and read stories together when I get home this afternoon.”
“What ‘dis aftanoon?”
Susie giggled. “Silly fluffy. I’ll be home before you know it.” She gave the pegasus a big hug. “I love you, Valentine.”
“Vawentine wuv mummah. Diiiiiiis much,” she replied, and held her hooves out as wide as they would go.
Susie’s mom stayed at home during the day. She was what Susie called a “bookeepah”, whatever that was. But she never came in to play with Valentine. In fact, any time she walked past the safe room, she flashed the fluffy a glare that frightened her a little bit. She decided that “mummah mummah” must have bad heart hurties—but if that were the case, why didn’t she come give Valentine hugs? Don’t hugs make everything better?
“Mummah? Why am mummah mummah haf saddies?”
“Silly Valentine. Mommy isn’t sad. She’s just really busy with work.”
Valentine didn’t know who “wowk” was, but she wanted to give him owwies for giving Susie’s mom heart hurties!
Five weeks after moving into the safe room in the big house, Valentine was a full grown fluffy. Ian started giving Susie permission to take her out into the living room to watch TV, or into the backyard to play—but only when Christy wasn’t around, of course. Ian gave the fluffy scratchies on the couch, but left most of the playing to Susie.
She loved chasing her ball in the backyard. She felt so free in the wide open space. The wind rushed through her fluff and made her feel like she was flying, even when she was on the ground. Susie laughed as she watched her pegasus scramble through the yard after the ball, wings flapping madly.
On rainy Saturdays and at nighttime before bed, Susie and Valentine (and sometimes Ian) sat and watched FluffTV. Susie and her fluffy sang along with all of the songs on Fluffy Sing-Along—Ian was surprised that the creature already knew all of the songs. Was that part of the Hasbio programming?
Everyone’s favorite show was the 8pm feature, Babies! They laughed as the foals on the show experienced their misadventures, and Susie went on about how cute they all were.
Susie’s mom went away a lot on weekends. “Grandma’s not feeling well, so mommy goes to visit her a lot and help.”
“Gwamma haf sickies? Vawentine wiww gif Gwamma huggies—huggies make aww fings bettah!”
Ian chuckled at that: partially at the fluffy’s childlike innocence, but mostly at what Christy would think of her mother hugging a fluffy.
Every Tuesday night, Christy met with the local chapter of the Chamber of Commerce. It provided her the opportunity to “get out of the house for once” as well as cultivate new clients for her bookkeeping business. The first Tuesday in May was the annual election to determine who would serve as local chapter officers for the year starting in July, and several of her “colleagues” in the chapter told her she was a shoo-in to be the next Secretary-Treasurer. One can imagine her surprise when the “colleague” who was supposed to nominate her didn’t show for the meeting, and Kari Bellinger won instead.
This put Christy in a foul mood before she even walked in the front door at home. She bowed out of the meeting early, claiming she had a migraine, and then sped home cursing Kari’s name. She swore up and down “she must have been fucking Travis…there’s no way in hell a little airheaded fuckwit like that could have won otherwise.”
Her anger was not tempered by the sight she saw when she opened the door to her home—her husband, her daughter, and the shitrat were all on the couch, singing something about “fluffies need leggies for run, play, and hugs”.
“Just WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!?
“Honey, calm down. Let’s not do this in front of Susie.”
The fluffy cowered in fear. “Huuuuu…mummah-mummah say huwtie wowd…”
“I’m not your ‘mummah-mummah’, shitrat!” she screamed, as she hurled her handbag against the painting on the back wall.
Valentine made scaredy-poopies on the couch, she was so afraid. She looked up at Susie with tears streaming down her cheeks. “Huu huu…am sowwy, mummah. Vawentine nu wan make bad poopies on da cowch!”
“It’s ok, Valentine. I know you didn’t mean to. Mommy loves you.”
“See! What did I say about these things? They shit all over the house.”
“Christy, shut up. You’ll only make things worse.”
“Oh, right, that’s all I do around here, is make things worse. Well, fuck you Ian! I fucking keep house all day while at the same time I’m trying to get my business going, since you aren’t ever going to be motivated enough to make partner!” Christy kicked the coffee table, bruising her shin in the process. This did not end the argument, as her bruise also seemed to be Ian’s fault.
Fortunately, Susie had the good sense to pick up Valentine and carry her to the safe room. They held each other and sobbed until the fight ended with her mom storming out of the house and pulling the car back out of the driveway.
Ian came to the safe room and found his daughter and her pink pegasus huddled together in the fluffy’s bed. He talked to her for a few minutes to reassure her, and then offered to let her stay the night with Valentine. Susie nodded her head, so he went to the garage and got a sleeping bag out of his camping supplies, and got Susie’s pillow and favorite blanket from her bedroom and set everything up in the safe room for the sleepover.
Valentine didn’t sleep much that night, in spite of the comfy “sleepy bag” that daddeh had given her and her mummah. Her mind replayed over and over again the scene of mummah’s mummah yelling about how bad a fluffy she was. In fact, she was such a bad fluffy that mummah’s mummah had run away!
Just like her own fluffy mummah had.
She lay there with mummah’s arm around her, thinking about how she must be the worst fluffy in the whole world, until it was time for mummah to leave for “skoow” again.
“Nuuuu, mummah! Nu weave Vawentine!”
“Valentine, calm down! Susie will be back at the end of school, just like every other day!”
“Nuuuuuu!”
WHACK
The sorry stick did its job, and the pink pegasus released her grip on the girl’s leg. Susie stepped over the baby gate, bumping the top of the gate as she did so. The fluffy covered her eyes and sobbed into her leg fluff.
“Valentine, I’ll be back this afternoon. I promise,” the seven-year old said. “Then we can play together all evening.”
“Am sowwy fo be bad fwuffy, mummah.”
“You’re not a bad fluffy, Valentine. You’re the best fluffy ever, and I love you very much!”
“Susie, come on. We’re going to be late.”
“Bye, Valentine.”
The pegasus remained flattened against the ground, with her wings drawn in. She “huu huued” and cried long after her mummah and daddeh were gone.
Pushing the ball around the safe room brought Valentine no joy. She bounced it off of the baseboard and tried to catch it with her hoof, but playing did not make the heart hurties go away. She tried stacking blockies, and made it all the way to one…two…three…four!..but she remained cognizant of the fact that mummah wasn’t there to cheer for her and give huggies because she could count so high.
The pink pegasus nummed a few bites of kibble from her bowl, but found that she could barely taste a thing. She decided the best thing to do was go and lie down in her bed, and hope that mummah came home soon.
Mummah didn’t come home soon.
Valentine got up from her bed and decided to play with her ball some more. She picked it up in her mouth and dropped it onto her hoof, causing the ball to roll across the room. This she did several times before it bounced into the baby gate, which slowly creaked open.
The pegasus stared for a moment, unsure what to make of the new development. The safe room was open! Maybe, if she looked hard enough, she would be able to find “skoow” and bring mummah home!
She shuffled to the safe room door, poking the now-open baby gate with her nose. It gave a little, and then creaked back towards her. She then resolved to put all of her weight into it, and she charged the gate. The gate gave easily, and Valentine smacked her nose into the opposite wall!
“Owwies! Nu huwt Vawentine, waww-fwend! Am gud fwuffy!” She wasn’t quite sure why she kept saying this, as she was quite sure she wasn’t a good fluffy at all. She tasted a little boo-boo juice with her tongue, as her nose had bled a little.
“Nu taste pwetty,” she said as she wrinkled her nose. Once she realized she was out of the safe room, she looked around. All around her were doors, most of which were closed. The only door in the hallway that was open was a half bathroom, which Valentine found terribly uninteresting.
The dining room and kitchen were massive, but not exactly full of things that would interest a fluffy pony. She did find a little bit of spilled cereal next to the dining room table that tasted nummy, but she quickly moved on.
The dining room opened to a large patio, which in turn opened to the backyard. Valentine would have liked to explore the backyard on her own, but the glass French doors to the patio were shut tight. She pawed at them a few times, but they didn’t budge.
The living room was the only downstairs room left to explore. She used a throw pillow on the floor to jump up on the couch, and turned to face the entertainment system.
“Wan see Fwuff Teebee, pwease!” she said politely. But the tv screen remained blank. Valentine repeated her request, but quickly bored of the “dummeh teebee” and jumped off the couch onto the throw pillow on the floor.
She trotted over to the stairwell. Even mummah and daddeh had never let her go upstairs. Not even when mummah-mummah wasn’t home. But the pink pegasus was determined to find “skoow” and retrieve her mummah.
She took her first step gingerly, being uncertain as to what would happen if she went up the stairs.
Christy fumbled with her keys at the front door again. She had ended up at her aunt’s house in Indian Trail last night, and was still angry with Ian for letting the shitrat roam the house while she was gone.
Finally, she found the key that turned the deadbolt. Goddamn door. I told him six months ago we needed to get it replaced. She slammed the door against the stopper that kept it from putting a hole in the wall, dropped her keys on the floor, and collapsed in a heap on the couch.
Her face landed right on the spot where the fluffy had shat itself the night before, but Ian had cleaned it well. sniff**sniff…carpet cleaner…Febreze…ugh—shitrat fur.
She had to get that shitrat out of the house—the little fuckers were nothing but trouble. But how? Her daughter was attached to the thing, and Ian—well, fuck Ian. If she didn’t get a say in the thing coming, he sure as hell wouldn’t get any say with how the thing left.
She rolled herself off the couch, banging the back of her head against the coffee table before she hit the ground. She rubbed her head, cursing Ian for buying the damn table (which, never mind, she had picked out of a catalog), and got up to deal with the shitrat. She stomped down the hall to the saferoom, expecting to find a creature too joyful for its own good, but she stopped when she realized that the baby gate was ajar.
Shit. It’s loose in the fucking house. She went around opening all of the doors to make sure the fluffy wasn’t causing a shit tornado in any of the rooms on the hall, but couldn’t find it. It wasn’t in the kitchen or the dining room, and she didn’t see it eating any of the rhododendrons in the backyard. Damn shame, too. There’s a problem that would have solved itself. She calmed herself a little by imagining the shitrat with its four legs in the air in the backyard covered in its own bloody vomit.
The little shit must have gone upstairs. That’s the only place it could be, she thought. She crept up the stairs, wondering which bedroom was coated in shit, when she saw the fluffy.
Valentine had apparently tired herself out, and decided to use some of Ian’s discarded clothes as a makeshift fluffy bed. She slept soundly, snoring as her chest rose. Her tiny wings fluttered every time she exhaled.
Christy saw only red. She stomped into her bedroom and grabbed the fluffy by the tail, waking the pegasus from her deep sleep.
“SCREEEEEE! Whu-whuaaa? What mummah-mummah doin’? Nu huwt pwetty taiw!”
“Get out of my bedroom, shitrat!” she yelled, as she threw the fluffy out the bedroom door and against the opposite wall.
“SCREEEEE! Am sowwy, mummah-mummah! Vawentine nu wan make mummah-mummah angwies!”
Reaching out to grab the fluffy by her neck scruff, she screamed,
“DON’T
punch
CALL
punch
ME
punch
THAT!!!”
Christy dropped the pegasus, which was gasping for air, onto the floor. The fluffy crawled on its belly and looked up at the red-faced woman.
haff haff “Vawentine–haff–am sowwy–haff. Haf huwties. haff Pwease gif haff huggies?”
Blinded by her rage—at the shitrat, at Ian, at the Chamber of Commerce, and at sucky life in general—she kicked the fluffy through the air. It landed on its left side in the living room downstairs and skidded a few feet on the hardwood floor before coming to a stop. Its wings, perhaps the only undamaged part of its body, flapped weakly.
Ian drove straight to the vet’s office when Christy called. She said that Valentine had gotten out of her safe room and climbed up the stairs, and then had fallen trying to get back down.
“Or, I don’t know, maybe she decided to try to fly back down, not knowing she couldn’t. Don’t pegasuses try to do things like that?”
Pegasi, you dumb bitch, he thought. After last night’s debacle, he wasn’t inclined to warm feelings for his wife. Just how the hell am I going to explain this to Susie?
Christy had dropped the fluffy at a specialist about fifteen minutes’ drive away from their house, in Matthews. Dr. Brannon was one of the first fluffy specialists in the Greater Charlotte area, so he was the guy to get the job done if anyone could.
“Mr. Smith, we’re lucky that your wife got here with Valentine as soon as she did.”
“How is she?”
“She’s resting now. We’ve got her on some pretty heavy sedatives—at least, as heavy as you can give to a fluffy.”
Ian nodded. “Christy said that she fell down the stairs, or that she tried to jump. How badly was she hurt?”
Dr. Brannon pursed his lips. “She broke both left legs—the rear one in several places. One of those was a compound fracture. Her right front leg was badly dislocated.”
“Jesus.”
“We’ve checked for signs of internal bleeding, and so far see no evidence of that, thank God. Unfortunately, this kind of an injury can be very traumatic for a fluffy.”
“How do you mean?”
“We’ve tried to test her cognitive skills—see if there’s any brain damage. She’s passed all of the tests quite well, but she seems to have forgotten a lot of what happened before…she sustained her injuries.”
Ian’s eyes narrowed. “There seems to be a bit of the story you’re not telling me, Dr. Brannon.”
“Well, at this point there’s a lot we may not really know—“
“But?”
“—but one more thing I can say is that Valentine jumps out of her skin every time someone walks in to check on her. She’s awfully twitchy.”
“You think someone did this to her?”
“I’m not trying to say anyone did this to her, Mr. Smith. I just wonder…is there anyone in your house who doesn’t like fluffies?”
Dr. Thomas Brannon had been a veterinarian for over a quarter of a century. When fluffy ponies became a ubiquitous part of Charlotte society, he expanded his practice to include the biotoys. Since then, he had seen everything—broken legs, rectal prolapse, liver damage, and shattered teeth were some of the most common. More often than not, those problems came part and parcel with owning a creature best likened in mental development to a brain-damaged three-year-old.
But one thing that stood out about the fluffy ponies that was virtually nonexistent in “regular pets” was the abuse. Since the feds classified fluffies as “biotoys”, they were exempt from all of the protections enjoyed by dogs, cats, horses, and gerbils. There was a time in this country, he remembered, that it was no uncommon thing for a farmer to drown a bag of kittens in a creek—not that it was right, of course—but now, the internet was flooded with images and videos of abusers beating fluffies’ brains out, setting them on fire, raping them, and doing all kinds of other god-awful things that Dr. Brannon had to put out of his mind.
He looked over Valentine’s chart one more time before setting it down on his desk. The line under Reason for Visit included a four word phrase that his office had used time and time again as code: “fell down the stairs”.
He poured himself a shot of the Jameson 18 yr. he kept under his desk, threw it back, and got up with a groan to continue with his day.
Ian drove back home as soon as he got the call. Christy told him she would pick up Susie at the end of the school day, and he did not look forward to the conversation ahead. With either of them. The receptionist told him that Valentine would be ready to pick up tomorrow, and would likely be in her nearly-full body cast and cone of shame for two months.
He pulled in the driveway, but didn’t see his wife’s Land Rover in front of the house. Maybe she took Susie out for ice cream—that would be good. He opened the door to the quiet house. Quiet, because he had become accustomed to hearing his little girl and the pegasus giggling in the safe room as soon as he got home.
He walked to the stairwell, looking for signs of what had happened. There’s no blood on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, but Valentine had a compound fracture. That bitch took the time to clean up first. There was no fluff stuck to any of the stairs. Of course, fluffies really didn’t shed—that was one of the early selling points.
He walked down the hallway to the safe room. Other than the open gate and a little bit of blood on the opposite wall, nothing was out of the ordinary. Ok. That she did herself.
Having checked all of the possible “crime scenes”, Ian decided to go to the fridge and grab a beer. He pulled out a Copper, cracked the top off on the side of the kitchen bar, and noticed a note left on the side of the counter. It read:
Ian,
There’s no good way to say this. But you and I both know that our love for each other has come to an end. I feel completely trapped in this relationship, and it’s time we both come to grips with reality. We’re not meant to be together.
I thought that maybe you had changed over the past year. If you have, then it hasn’t been for the better. You don’t listen anymore. You’re not going anywhere professionally. Worst of all, you undermine me in the eyes of my own daughter.
Speaking of where you’re going professionally, Eric and I have been seeing each other. It all started at the Christmas Party he hosted for the office a year and a half ago. I’ve been meeting him at his condo on the weekends. My mother’s been fine.
I packed bags for both Susie and myself this afternoon. We went straight from her school to the condo. Eric said we could stay there until we find a more permanent arrangement. I’ll come back for the rest of my things soon. Don’t worry—I’ll make sure it’s at a time when you’re at work, so you don’t have to see me.
Please don’t hate me for this. You know it’s the best thing for all of us.
Christy
Valentine looked all around, but couldn’t figure out where she was. She knew something was wrong when she tried to stand up on all fours, but couldn’t move her leggies! And there was something around her neck that wobbled around and wouldn’t let her see anything that wasn’t right in front of her.
“Hewp! Mummah, hewp Vawentine! Nu can wun! Am stuck!”
The pegasus heard a door open, and light flooded the area. A kindly looking human with very little mane entered the room.
“Hello, Valentine. How are you feeling?”
“Pwease, nice mistah. Nu can move weggies! Hewp Vawentine!”
The human clicked his tongue. “You poor thing. You had the worsest owwies. We had to put this cast on you to keep you from getting more owwies.”
“What am cast? Whewe mummah? Whewe daddeh?” The pink mare looked around frantically, searching for a familiar face. There was none to be found.
“Your mummah and daddeh aren’t here. They want you to get better, so the nice misters and nice ladies here are taking care of you.”
“Mummah an daddeh…weave Vawentine? Am Vawentine bad fwuffy?”
The nice human tried stroking what little fluff the pegasus had exposed, but was unable to settle the distressed creature. She wailed long into the evening, after all the humans were gone.
The next bright-time took forever to come, and Valentine “huu huued” until her daddeh came to pick her up that afternoon. Daddeh seemed sad, somehow, but the fluffy got even more distressed when she realized she couldn’t give him huggies! What good was a fluffy who couldn’t give huggies? Huggies make everything better!
Daddeh put her in the sorry box, struggling to get the meanie rockies that covered her pretty fluff to fit. She didn’t like the sorry box, but had too many owwies and heart hurties to fight against it.
When they got home, daddeh took Valentine back to the saferoom and laid her on her side on her fluffy bed. He pulled her litterbox over behind her poopie-place and told her to call for him if she wanted anything. As he walked out of the safe room, Valentine spoke,
“Daddeh, how time tiww mummah come fwom skoow?”
“I don’t know, Valentine. Soon, I hope,” he replied as he slipped out the door.
The pegasus fluttered her wings, as that was about all she could do. She hoped mummah came home from school soon, like daddeh said.
Many bright-times passed, yet mummah still didn’t come home. Valentine whiled away her days in boredom. Before her “aksidunt”, she could at least look forward to the end of the school day when mummah would come home to play. With that gone, she only had daddeh, and he was busy most of the time. One day, the fluffy overheard him on his “fowne”.
“Well, mom, what else was I supposed to do? Keep working for a guy who was having sex with my wife? Yeah…uh huh…look, I know I need money, but I’ll find another firm to go work for. No, I will not take her back…not under any circumstances…yes, mom, I know the odds that I won’t get custody. I suppose you think it’s my fault she walked out?”
Valentine had no idea what daddeh was talking about. Words like “secks” and “cuss-dee” were a little beyond her meager vocabulary.
“I don’t know, mom. It just hurts when it hits you that someone doesn’t love you anymore.”
Like a dagger through the heart, Valentine understood—her mummah didn’t love her anymore and ran away! Just like her fluffy mummah had! She would huddle into a ball, cover her see-places with her hooves, and cry, but she couldn’t move her back or her hooves.
So she just cried.
Many more bright times passed, and daddeh took Valentine to get the big rocky-places cut off! She could finally move her leggies again!
“Huwway! Fankoo, nice mistah!”
“You’re welcome, Valentine. I hope you feel all better now.” The pegasus lifted her front leggies off of the cold table, and the human who didn’t have much of a mane obliged with a hug.
“Just remember, Mr. Smith. Don’t exercise her too much at first. She needs to get used to having all four limbs again.”
“Thanks, Dr. Brannon.”
“Of course. Make sure that your daughter knows not to play too rough with her for a while, too.”
Valentine saw daddeh rub his face with his not-hoof, and knew that he was sad. It gave her heart-hurties to see that her daddeh had heart-hurties.
“Daddeh gif huggies? Huggies make aww fings bettah.”
Daddeh gave her a hug, and a little bit of the sadness went away. Not much, but a little.
Ian got on with another law firm a few weeks later, in mid-August. He had nearly exhausted his savings, but the new job at least allowed him to buy groceries.
He had worked his way up at Eric J. White, becoming a senior associate in just five years at the firm. Leaving without notice meant he had to start over again. He got all of the traffic bullshit, DUI cases, and whatever mindless paperwork the queen bee of a paralegal wouldn’t do. And he got paid junior associate wages for his trouble.
He was thankful that North Carolina required a full year “cooling-off” period before divorce filing. If Christy could file for divorce now, he would be up shit creek, between legal fees, the house payment, and both vehicles (as he was still on the hook for Christy’s Land Rover, too).
Valentine played with her ball and blockies most every day, but those got boring. What she lacked was companionship. With mummah gone and daddeh not home until the dark-time every day, she knew loneliness like she had never known before.
Daddeh offered to let her come out of the safe room when he came home, but she was afraid. What if she got worsest owwies again?
The only time she ever left the safe room was when daddeh carried her. He usually sat her on the couch while he watched TeeBee, and didn’t mind watching FluffTV if she asked nicely. She sang along with all of the songs, and daddeh sat quietly and drank his silly-water.
“Daddeh?”
“What is it, Valentine?”
“Can Vawentine haf babbehs?”
Her daddeh stopped drinking his silly-water and stared at her for a minute. He said nothing, and then turned to face the teebee again.
“No.”
“Bu-bu-bu daddeh, babbehs am gud fo huggies an wuv! Vawentine wan be mummah!”
“No.”
“Daddeh, Vawentine haf saddies! Am wonewy! Nee babbehs fo heawt-huwties gu way!”
“I said, NO!” He grabbed her by her red mane and carried her down the hallway.
“EEEEEE! Bad upsies, daddeh! Nu wike!”
He tossed her onto the floor in her saferoom. Valentine knew that nothing was broken, but she remembered what it felt like when she hit the floor the time she got the worsest owwies. She shuddered on the floor as the man walked away, not making a sound.
Summer turned to Fall, and Fall turned into an exceptionally mild Carolina winter. Nighttime temperatures barely got below freezing, and so Ian sat out on the patio most nights, drinking.
He still hadn’t seen his daughter since before that fateful trip to the vet’s office last May. Now, it was nearly Christmas, and all of his attempts to reach out to his soon to be ex-wife and her family members were met with silence.
The bills were falling behind. He covered the utilities, but the student loan companies were leaving him messages almost daily, not to mention the mortgage company and the banks that held the car loans. He let the Land Rover payment go first It’ll fuck my credit, but at least I won’t be the one who gets to watch the repo man take it.
Valentine never left her safe room anymore, even though Ian took down the baby gate months ago. He was sure that Christy had injured the fluffy, and that she wouldn’t go careening down the stairs at this point, even if the bitch hadn’t done the deed.
He only visited the pegasus twice per day to feed her, and cleaned her litterbox with the evening feeding. Most of the time, she was lazily batting a ball against the wall with her hoof, acting like she didn’t care anymore. Hell, maybe she didn’t.
Ian knew that he didn’t care anymore. Every time he came down to feed her, she asked him if she could have foals. His response was always a firm “no” and a whack on the rump with the sorry stick. He could barely afford to feed himself and one fluffy, let alone a whole passel of the creatures.
Maybe Christy had one thing right. Maybe it really is time to come to grips with reality. He got up from his lawn chair and went inside.
The pink pegasus sat and stared at the wall. She was batting her ball against the baseboard, but then let it bounce away once and didn’t bother to retrieve it. Why bother?
Why did she—the worst fluffy in the whole world—exist? Her fluffy mummah ran away because she was a bad baby. Lots of people ran away from her at the fluffy store, because all of the fluffies there were good fluffies, except her. Her mummah ran away, all because she was a bad fluffy. Now, even daddeh didn’t love her anymore. He never gave her huggies. Never gave her love. And now, she would never have babies, either. All because she was such a bad fluffy.
Just then, daddeh walked in.
“Hewwo, daddeh,” Valentine said with a broken voice.
“Hello, Valentine.” He picked her up and gave her the biggest hug ever.
coo “Wuv!”
Then, daddeh carried her towards the door, he carried her through the dining room and opened the patio door. He walked onto the patio and opened the door to the backyard, where he set the fluffy in the grass.
“What doin’ ,daddeh?”
He gave her a sad smile, turned, and closed the door. Valentine looked up at the dark blue sky. She had never seen so many little twinkling lights, and wondered if it happened every dark-time!
She stared up with wonderment. It was all so pretty.
BANG
The pegasus made scaredy-poopies on the grass, and then ran for cover under the old playset in the corner of the yard.