We Know Not What We Do
Part 6
“Hewwo bwokies.” Prince then made a face and a higher pitched voice, “hewwo Pwince, wanna pway wif bwokies?” “Yus, pwince gon stack yu su gud.” Prince struggled to lift the block on top of the other, he was almost out of breath. He splayed out after exerting himself that much, he was still just a babbeh, barely a month old. He looked over at the ball, “Pwince gun pway baww su gud.” Back with the same high pitched voice, “baww wan pway!”
He pushed himself up and ran to the ball, pushing it as hard as he could. For a fluffy of his size, and with room being carpeted, it rolled an impressive foot away. Prince was quite proud of himself. His tail swaying as he pranced to the ball. Another big push sent the ball past the threshold and into the hall. He continued to push, making his way to the living room. Which is where he saw Mocha crawl out from under the couch.
The ball quickly forgotten he ambles up to Mocha, “wut yu du?”
She looked away, almost nervous. “Nuffin…”
He was too curious to believe her. He loved his sister, but he knew she was dumb. Under the couch he crawled, squeezing under the stiff decorative fabric. It was dark under there. Before his eyes could adjust, he smelt it. He could smell it before he could see it. Piles, too many piles to count, not that he could count. Poop all over the carpet. Prince’s hooves pushed him backwards as fast as his tiny legs could.
“Mocha, yu poopies in dewe?” He asked, upset that she was such a bad babbeh, and scared of what daddeh will do to her and possibly him.
“N…nu. Dat fwum munsta.” She sheepishly lied, rubbing the side of her face with a hoof as she looked away. She knew it was a lie. Prince knew it was a lie, and Mocha knew that he knew.
“Bad babbeh!” Smack! Prince’s hoof smacks Mocha across the face. She chirped, more out of surprise. Neither had the strength to really hurt anything, much less each other. Smack! “Yu!” Smack! “Aw!” Smack! “Poopie!” Smack! “Babbeh!” Smack!
Mocha fell onto her side, her brother smacking her on the face, “Yu bad fwuffy! Yu poopie fwuffy!” Smack! Blood trickles down the front of her snout, her peeps and chirps drowned out by Prince’s yelling. “Yu jus dummeh poopie babbeh!” Smack! “Yu ugwy poo-”
The door swung open, Prince interrupted by Steve yelling “What the fuck!?” Steve was seeing red, Prince standing over Mocha, hoof raised and blood on her snout. Before Prince could react he was there, his foot moving fast towards Prince. He felt the impact, the world spinning as he took flight. His right front leg smashing into the wall with a crunch, then the thud as his body hit the floor.
The wind was knocked out of him, Prince gasped for air as he was sprawled out on his side, watching daddeh picking up Mocha. Everything was on fire, worse pain than when his daddeh made his skin all owies. Struggling to get up his weight shifted to his right leg, “CHIRP! chirp chirp!” He couldn’t walk! The rush of pain putting his pupils to points. Daddeh was gonna give him foweba sweepies! He tried again to get up and crumpled to the ground chirping. Daddeh was coming for him. He lunged forward with his back legs, his front half falling back into the carpet, forcing out a loud peep.
“Where the fuck are you going?!” Steve watched at Prince somehow made it under his favorite chair, not that it protected him, Steve just lifted and moved the chair easily. Prince kept chirping with every movement, the adrenaline propelling him forward. To no avail, Steve grabbed Prince by the scruff and lifted him eye level. As his hooves left the ground panic fully set in, poop and piss dripped down onto the carpet.
Mocha ran up to Steve, pounding her hooves against his ankle, “daddeh nu hewt Pwince!” She begged and pleaded to stop giving her brother hurties. “Daddeh am munsta! Nu huwt bwuddah!”
Something about a tiny talking immature baby pony calling him a “munsta” brought him back to some semblance of reality. “Why were you beating Mocha?” Prince couldn’t respond, his scruff putting pressure on his shattered leg, he just kept chirping, his breathing fast and shallow.
Mocha looked up at Steve, “Mocha am poopie babbeh,” tears in her eyes, she told daddeh the truth. “Mocha makin’ bad poopies… Nu huwt Pwince! Wet bwuddah gu!” Her tiny hooves making soft taps against Steve’s ankle again.
Prince was being held down on the cold metal table. It was dark times but it was so bright in this room it hurt his eyes. He could hear his daddeh, but couldn’t turn his head to see him. He could see the strange man in front of him, holding him to the table. Ever so slightly the man would shift his hand, daggers shooting into his leg forcing out more peeps and chirps. Prince couldn’t even muster the strength to talk.
“So, you’re telling me this was an accident?” The strange man asked.
“Yeah, pretty much. I came home to him beating on his sister and calling her a “poopie baby,” and I kinda over reacted.”
The man shrugged, he didn’t seem convinced. “Look, it’s 3am and you’re here at the emergency vet. Most people with fluffies would’ve waited for the morning, so, maybe you didn’t purposely break his leg, that’s between you and god.” The man kissed his fingertips and raised them to the air.
“Can you fix him?” Steve asked, worry in his voice. Prince could only keep his eyes on the strange man.
“You’ve got two options,” the veterinary said earnestly, “we can x-ray, sedate, and then repair the bones. He’ll probably need pins. Fluffies don’t have the strongest skeleton, but he’ll be in a cast for about a month. And…” He paused, “that’s going to start at around two thousand.” Steve started to respond. “Starts at two thousand. If we have joints to repair, it’ll be even more.”
Daddeh gun fix Pwince’s weggie? He became hopeful, so very hopeful. He tried to turn around, struggling against the strange man’s hand, only to jostle his leg, chirping again.
“Or, for two hundred, I can remove the leg. He’ll learn to walk with just three legs. Plenty of animals successfully maneuver with just three legs.” NU! NU TAKE WEGGIE! Prince started to panic under the hand, which only caused it to push harder, and into his broken leg. “Since you seem like a younger guy who I think has less money than smarts, I’ll even do it for $150 if we skip the sedation.”
“Why so cheap?” Steven was skeptical.
“Because you’re obviously care about him, why else would you be here at 3am?”
Daddeh! NU! Dun wet dem take weggie! Babbeh need weggie fo huggies and wub! Prince started chirping, just the thought of losing his leg was enough to send him into a panic attack.
“Alright. Remove his leg. Just, make sure it doesn’t hurt.” His daddeh sounded so sad, but it offered little comfort to Prince. The man called in an assistant to take Prince back, the last thing he heard was Steve saying he’d be back in the morning.
The strange man quickly became the scary man. Prince was held down on his side by straps, he could only look forward and to the ceiling. “What’s your name?” The scary man asked from above, he couldn’t quite make out his face, the light was just so bright.
“P…p-p-pwince…” It was a struggle to get out his name.
“So, Prince, is it? Do you know what I’m going to do?” He waited, Prince didn’t say a word. “Your daddy, well, he doesn’t like you very much. He told me you’re a bad fluffy. A very bad fluffy.” Tears started to form in his eyes, maybe from the words, possibly from the light, but he was having the worstest heart hurties. “And because you were such a bad fluffy,” the scary man held up a scalpel, "your daddy said you don’t deserve to have that leg anymore. He said, and I quote “that dummy fluffy doesn’t deserve to play with blocks or give hugs EVER AGAIN!”
Prince choked back a sob, it was true. He knew it was true. He was a bad fluffy, that’s why daddeh hated him so much.
“And because I’m a nice man, I’m going to do what your daddy wanted. But…” he sat down on the stool, now much closer to the foal, “I’m gonna give you a chance to make this go easier. If you can answer my question, I’ll give you a nice shot of painkiller. It’ll make you feel goood. It won’t hurt at all when I cut off your leg. But if you can’t answer my question, then I’m going in raw.” He leaned closer to Prince, “Does your daddy love you?”
Prince knew the answer, he didn’t want to say it, but the pain was too much. Softly, ever so softly, “… nu.”
“That’s right! And I’m gonna reward myself instead!” Prince could feel the knife cut into his leg. Little did Prince know, that his man hated fluffies. And that sometimes, a screaming foal at 3am was the best way to pass the midnight shift. Prince hit a new record for the doctor, he screamed for the entire procedure without passing out.
