September 4th, Three days after adoption
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It hadnt even been close to a full week, and already, something went down.
I adoped fluffy pony foals. I usually don’t adopt animals before researching them, but… i thought they were in such a sad scenario, i had to. The leader, Millie, said their mummah and her… “special friend” werent around anymore. Huh. Fatherless and motherless. Wow, i thought. Poor guys. I had an unused room, that id use for pets i had, when i had them. Ill, at the very least, let them stay until they become an adult. I hoped they werent assholes. Ohh boy, i was in for it.
Seriously, i cant believe i took in these guys. I know, ive heard of these things being stupid, so really i shouldve expected something to go bad.
It started with that fat yellow one… Daisy? I think? The ponies introduced themselves, but i could barely understand their baby talk. Moss, im pretty sure, is Daisys main caretaker. But she isnt a very competent one. I was about to enter, to top off their food, when I heard Moss talking. “Nu! Nu, daisee! Why yuu nu teww me yu nee make poopies!! Nuu!” So thats what all that fucking peeping was, I thought. I enter, and of course, theres a HUGE, and i mean MASSIVE, pile of shit behind Daisy. Massive for a pony, anyway.
“Moss, whats this?” I asked. “Uh, uhm… pwease nu be angy at Daisee… Daisee jus wittle sensitibe babbeh!” Alright, that alone pissed me off. You cannot. Be that stupid. Assuming being a ‘sensitive foal’ is similar to, like, autism or something, that does NOT make you stupid. Hell, take my cousin. He has it, and he happens to be smarter than my whole family combined! But, you know what, one of them has to take his punishment.
“Moss, thats your name? Youre the main caretaker?” Moss nods at both questions. “Okay, well, how old are you both.” “Bowf ob us awe fwee weeks owd.” And, judging by pther animals, thats old enough… i thought.
“So, realistically, then, youd heard his peeps many times.” He nods. “So you should, realistically, know the difference between hungry, needs to poo, and so on?” Moss nods again. “And NONE of you, let alone you as main caretaker, heard the peeping that even ive heard for, say, 20 minutes, and thought ‘hey, he needs to take a fat dump?’ Not once did that cross your mind?”
Moss was silent. Didnt even nod. Millie steps in. “Daddeh, in Moss’ defense… she was pwaying wib us.” Seriously? “I dont care what she was doing, Millie. He has responsibilities. That means, if you need to do something. Do it. Especially for living beings.” “Buh- buh-” Millie keeps trying. “But nothing, Mil. Moss has responsibilities. This makes me wonder how often Daisy has gone hungry, or shat where he cant, because of neglect. From all of you.”
The foals exchange glances. Thinking of a way to excuse themselves, probably. “Well, Moss, id assume if shes ‘just a sensitibe babbeh,’ she cant do punishments.” Moss frantically nods. “She nu deserbe no no time!” “So youll take it for her?” … A pause. “Wew… i mean… uh…” she tried to think of an excuse, to no avail. “If youre the main caretaker, but she cant even rely on you to help her poop, youre the next in line for punishment,” i say.
Did i mention this was a carpet? And, no, i did not have another room to put them in, for the record. This is it, the only room in my house i had free. I dont need a spare room, i got that already. Office and work space is in my basement. I dont need a storage room. Got that. The room was unused. Most animals, youd think, would have anything in their brains telling them ‘hey, i cant poo here. My brother cant poo here.’ But- no. Of course im aware animals have accidents! Hell, my old cat lulu, from when i was a kid, always puked on the rug. But the difference is he didnt necessarily know better. These things can fuckin talk, man. Theyre obviously capable of some thought beyond ‘miao, meow, tuna and litter. I puked.’ if they can make full scentinces, surely they have something.
Anyway, i grabbed rubber gloves and put one on. I took a different plate and put the poop on it. “Clean,” i said blankly. Moss looked at it, looked at me, back at the poop, back at me. “Nu can nummies poopies!” She said. “Nu can poopies on floor,” i respond. “Daisy cant be punished for being disabled. You actively ignored her. Eat.” She held back vomit as she ate.
I think i was too brutal. Thoughts?
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September 5th, four days after adoption.
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Got lots of responses yesterday. Shockingly, more people said that theyve seen worse than forcing a pony to eat its sisters shit. I expected more people dunking on me, for even considering that punishment. I decided to do research on these guys.
Apperently theyre low key, like, a biotoy from… Hasbio? An extension of Hasbro or something? But then Peta fucked everything up, and now these fuckers roam free, not finished, and theyre apperently super shitty for… everything, actually. So people just… kill them? Some get it worse than others with how theyre killed, apparently…
Look. Im against animal abuse, but… these things are barely animals. Theyre man made, not… created by an outside force of some kind. You know, evolution or a higher being. They shouldn’t be here. We made them as humans. Many people said to just “use them as anger management until they die off.” Im so going to hell for even considering agreeing with that, arent i?
Edit, 1hr later: many people said that, until they really anger me, i could play mind games with them, maybe include pics of everything since these forums arent monitored for any abuse. That would be funny shoutout antifluff226.
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September 7th
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I had the idea of finding where i buried their dead brother, after that incident.
I actually wondered how it was killed off so fast. Apperently, apon looking it up, brown foals are… “poopie foals,” and due to not having bright colours, theyre often rejected or abused by family.
I decided to taxidermy him. Hear me out- i have him in the corner. A pony does something bad, and i just tell them to look at their brother who was once rotting in the soil.
Edit, 20min later:
Picked him up, after posting. He looks so good all things considered. I know there are still fluffy lovers on the site, so i wont say where i went for the protection of the taxidermist, just in case they dont like… this idea. Whicg, fair enough. I cant have anyone going after the taxidermist though.
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September 8th
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I set it up. The foals are scared of him. Good. Heres a pic of Lav… growling? Sounds more like rabies gargling. To be fair, his shit looks like… not brown. Garenteed he has, or had, and infection.
Whatever. He looks like an idiot here.
SPEAKING. of Lav. Hes a shitrat, literally. I know his poop is reddish brown because of what he did just a bit ago.
So. I opened a new bag of kibble. I pour it in their food dispenser, right? He rolled his eyes and groaned, “kibbwe again? Sewiouswy! Snawty wan WEAL nummies fow famiwy!” Skye, groggy from his nap, speaks up. “We wucky to eben get dis, Wab. Dere was a poin were us fwuffies got bawely anyting. An ih was dangewus to num owr nummies, too! Wemembah da angey foxie munstah?” Lav stomped his hoof and poofed his cheeks.
“Wab nu cawe! Wab wan sketties, NEOW!” I step in. “If you dont accept this, you get nothing, Lav. Your brother got nothing, and look at him now.” The others look at their poopy brother, and dispite thinking less of him before, they scarf down their share of morning kibble, so they dont starve. Lav, however, only stomped harder on the floor.
“NU! NU AM WIKE POOPIE! NU AM! ME WAN SKETTIES, NOW!” He then fucking shat, all over the remaining food. The way the feeder works, is it puts out a specific amount of food at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He just ruined his breakfast portion, and any lunch and dinner portions he coudve had. I didnt kake him eat it, though. I said, kibble or nothing. Besides, one fucker already ate shit. Gotta be original.
“Fine,” i say. “Dont eat your food. Dont eat anything today.” His eyes widen a little. “NU. ME WAN FOO, ME NEED NUMMIE!” I grabbed the box their food bag came in. It had handles cut in to it, so he could breathe still. I shove him in and put the open part on top sp he couldnt crawl out. I close the top of the box, just to be sure. “NU! NU, WAI! TOO DAWK! TOO CWOSED! NU, SMAWTY NU WAN SOWWY BOX!” Shoulda thought that through, i thought. Also, sorry boxes, apperently, are legit any dark, closed space. Perfect for punishment and/or abuse from what i read. Dead brother isnt motivation enough for ya, asshole? Fine. Starve in here all day. One day wont kill you.
I cleaned the bowl out.
“Smawty sowwy… pwease wet smawty ou…” he wined.
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First more story based post rather than intros n shit. I had the idea of having the owner go online and find a blog, so he can get advice and shit.
I have like, no writing experience. Any constructive critisism will help a lot, and i thank you in advance!!