We Know Not What We Do
Part 11
Mocha was scared. The lady seemed mean. Really mean. She caught a glimpse of something in her hand, she didn’t understand, but deep down, instinctively knowing it was a sorry stick. She hunkered over Prince to protect him. Ears flattened, body shivering, eyes closed, she bravely stood her ground to protect Prince. But the pain didn’t come. Instead she heard daddeh yelling out in pain. That scary mean lady was hurting daddeh!
But then the mean lady gave her a nice hug and called her a good fluffy! Her wings fluttered at that. She couldn’t tell just what this mean-not-mean lady was doing. She ended up back in the box with Prince as they were carried off somewhere.
“Whewe yu takin’ babbehs?” Mocha looked up and asked the mean-not-mean lady.
"Well, your brother is very very sick. And it is gonna take more than just hugs and love to fix him. We’re gonna make him all better. And, " she reached down and gave Mocha a scratch around the ears, “we’re gonna make you better too. But, we gotta take Prince away for a little bit, and then you’ll be in the same room together, okay?”
“MOCHA AM GUN GO FOWEBA SWEEPIES! SCREEE!” The vet tech holding Mocha sighed very loudly. Her legs flailed wildly, her wings buzzing, “wun weggies! CHIRP CHIRP!” Her body wasn’t even under the water yet, but Mocha panicked. “Huuuu huuu… wawa bad fo babbeh! Pwease nu! Pwease? CHIRP! Am jus widdle babbeh!” She begged and pleaded with the person holding her, but there was no response, just suddenly she was plunged under the faucet. Mocha devolved into hiccups and chirping as she was forced a bath.
She stood on the counter top, shivering and wet. Before she could complain about being cold, there was a sharp pinch and burning sensation at her scruff. Had she been paying attention she would’ve seen the tech putting the needle down and picking up another. ~CHIRP!~ Again she had a sharp pinch and burning feeling, this time in her hind leg. And again, before she could complain the tech shoved a tiny foal treat into her mouth, “good girl, drama queen.”
Mocha am Mocha, nu dwama qween Mocha thought as she chewed the very soft treat forced into her mouth. She wiped away her own tears and then gave a squeal as she was roughly picked up and dried, the treat falling out of her mouth in the process. Unable to complain the nipple of a bottle was forced into her mouth. Her eyes went wide and the tears started again. Dis am miwk! She coo’ed as she latched onto the bottle and suckled. dis bettah dan nasty nummies daddeh gib… She thought, lost in the satisfaction. Her wings fluttered, the bottle quickly being emptied. She hadn’t felt this full in a very very long time.
She happily sighed pulling her head back. “Wow, you really were hungry, huh?” To which Mocha replied with ~Burrrrrrrp!~ her lips flapping during the whole belch. Mocha was shifted about and the tech put something warm and not quite wet onto her hooves and up her front legs where the skin was visible through the fluff. She sniffed at it and wrinkled her nose, it smelled bad, she didn’t want that near her mouth at all.
She didn’t notice at first as they entered the room full of cages, it was loud, it was bright. Dogs and cats and even some fluffies were locked up. Many of them, mostly fluffies, started calling out. “Whewe am yu takin’ Mocha?” She asked, trying to look at the tech. She was placed into a cage with a water bottle and a small fluffy bed. The cage was closed behind her, and she explored her new little room. Her head was still small enough to fit her head through and she looked around. “Hewwo fwen’s!” Several cats and dogs stared at her and quickly lost interest.
A fluffy across from her yelled back, “Hewwo, nyu fwend?” It was a female that was bandaged up, Mocha could see some bare flesh on her side.
“Mocha wub nyu fwend!” She popped her head back in and waved.
“Mocha am gud naem. Bwue am Bwue.” Blue had blue and a white mane, she was a very pretty fluffy, Mocha thought.
For the next hour or so, Mocha and Blue talked and talked. It was all nonsense. Every time a tech walked by Mocha would call out for attention. “Mocha am dancie babbeh! Wan huggies!” She did her best at dancing, wiggling her body, her hooves flailing. It was a terrible dance, but Blue loved it. It was never enough to get one of the techs to take her out, but she tried and tried.
“Am Mocha Bwue’s babbeh?” Blue asked after her dance was rejected again.
“Nu, Mocha hab daddeh, an he da bes!” Mocha was not smart, definitely below average for a fluffy. No mother, no FluffTV, and sadly very little human interaction.
“Bwue tink Mocha am Bwue’s babbeh!” She started pounding against the cage door, “Bwing Mocha tu Bwue! Mocha am Bwue’s babbeh! Gimme babbeh!” The cage door rattling and shaking adjacent cages, the dogs and cats trying to sleep getting agetated, a cacophany of noise filling the room. It didn’t bring the attention Blue wanted. A tech walked in and glared at Blue. Without a work Blue was yanked from the cage and promptly thrown into their version of a sorry box. It was just a cardboard box with the flaps laying closed. Only muffled cries could be heard.
Reflexively she shoved her hoof into her mouth and gagged, it tasted worse than the kibble Steve fed her. The vet tech that put Blue into the sorry box was the same that brought Mocha to her cage. She looked in at the gagging fluffy, “you look lonely, how about a friend?”
“Nyu fwend?” Her head tilted, ears flopping. The tech opened the cage door and put in a small stuffed bear the same size as Mocha, a darker shade of brown than the fluffy. “Nyu stuffy fwend?” Her eyes went wide and the tech pushed the stuffed bear into Mocha’s outstretched legs for the biggest hug ever. She squealed and giggled, falling over and hugging the bear. Hugging onto the bear was just enough excitement to push her into exhaustion and she dozed off hugging onto the bear.
Mocha stirred when they brought Prince and the divider for the cage. It was just a clear acrylic, but it separated the space, keeping Mocha from getting to Prince. She was trying to be a very good fluffy and didn’t interrupt or ask questions of the vet tech. After the woman left Mocha rolled away from the bear and saw a clear bag with a tube attached to Prince and gauze wrapped around his chest and where his leg used to be.
She sat and stared at him through the plastic. Mocha am happeh dat Pwince nu go fowebah sweepies. Buh Mocha hab heawt huwties. Something caught her attention, her head turned and she jumped. A scary looking man was watching her. “He…hewwo?”
He looked at the charts, first Prince’s, then Mocha’s. He recognized Prince, how could he forget him, it was just a few days ago he operated on the fluffy. “So, you’re Prince’s sister, huh? Mocha?” She nodded. He opened the cage, grabbed her roughly by the scruff, and was about to walk away but grabbed the bear as well. The fluffy operating room was dark and the table was cold. A small desk lamp illuminating the mostly sterile room.
“You know,” he began, eyes narrowing on Mocha, “Dr. Clark took a liking to you and Prince, so I can’t hurt you. Not physically. And, that’s a shame. But. Your friend here,” he pointed to the bear, Mocha latched onto it, always the defender. “Your friend is fair game.” He yanked the bear easily from her grasp.
“Nu! Gib stuffy fwend back!” The difference from this room and the other operating room, this one had better insulation. People were less willing to pay for anesthetic for fluffy surgeries. There was too much screaming and they couldn’t scare the customers away. “Pwease nu. Pwease gib back stuffy fwend? Pwease?” Her eyes teared up as she gave the universal huggy sign, sitting on her rump with her legs held out.
“No, I don’t think so. You see, I heard you were a bad fluffy.”
~GASP!~ “Dat nu twue! Da nice wady teww Mocha dat Mocha am gud fwuffy!”
“She lied. She told me. She told me you were a bad fluffy. A very very bad fluffy.” No acting skill necessary, fluffies were too easy to trick, and Mocha, unfortunately had not gotten any smarter yet. He held up the small bear in front of his face, his voice going higher pitched. “Why is Mocha such a bad fluffy? I’m gonna get owies because you’re such a bad girl.”
She started to believe it, Mocha am bad fwuffy? Her ears drooped the more that thought ran through her head. Softly, “nu… Mocha am gud fwuffy.”
Still with the fake high pitched voice, “OW!” He punched the stuffed bear, which was just him shoving his fist into it, smashing it into his palm. “If only you were a good girl I wouldn’t have the worst owies!”
“Nu! Stahp! Nu huwt fwend!” Her cries didn’t sway him, she begged and pleaded.
With his normal voice, “do you know what happens to friends of bad fluffies?” A quick tug ripped the arm off the bear.
“NUUUUUUUU!”
“See what you did?” He asked and threw the bear’s arm at Mocha, she scrambled to pick it up. And with a final push, he used the stuffed bear’s voice, “why is Mocha such a bad fluffy? I hate her so much! She caused the worst owies! I have so many owies because of her… Just like Prince.”
She squeezed her eyes tight and sobbed, snot running down her muzzle, Mocha am da wowst!
A giant smile spread across his face and Mocha cried and cried all the way back to her cage. Mocha, the stuffed bear missing an arm, and the arm all unceremoniously thrown back in. She hugged the bear, blubbering and sobbing and begging for forgiveness.
Everything was blurry. And uncomfortable. Something was stuck to his hind leg, something wrapped around his body tightly. He was tired, but, in a different way. Prince noticed he was very hungry. He knew he wasn’t back in the room, everything was unfamiliar. He couldn’t manage words though, and he couldn’t even see Mocha. Only chirps and peeps came out. He attempted to crawl around but couldn’t go far. It wasn’t long before another vet tech gingerly picked him up and feeds him from a bottle. He really was just a babbeh.
When he finally woke up and had more coherent thoughts he rubbed his eyes. Mocha was across the cage, sleeping with a stuffy friend. He struggled to get up, chirping in pain. Mocha woke with a start, her eyes bloodshot. As loud as she could she yelled for help. Dr Cheryl was nearing the end of her shift and made her way over, “well good morning, babies.” She talked sweetly to Prince. One hand held the IV bag and the other lifted the three legged fluffy. She rubbed his stomach the way a mother would, and induced him to poop and pee into a litter box. Still treating him like a baby, she held him and told him what a good fluffy he was as he suckled on a bottle.
“Now Prince, you were very sick. Not even huggies from Mocha could fix it. So you gotta not touch this tube on your leg. And you can’t mess with this wrapping, okay?” He nodded, understanding most of it. Prince was returned to the crate, as Dr Clark closed it, she paused. “Mocha, did you do this?” She pointed to the bear’s amputated arm.
“Mocha am bad fwuffy… Dat mean munsta man tol’ Mocha dat. Den he gif stuffy fwend wowstest owies…” She hugged onto the bear very tightly, closing her eyes. She didn’t see the look in Dr Cheryl’s eyes. Nor did Mocha see her grab the sorry stick and storm out.
