Chapter 4: Shit Happens
Cleaning the safe room was absolute hell. Erik thought he could handle it. He’d cleaned up Sleet’s poop all her life. He was wrong. Sorry poopies was a defense mechanism. Something about the hormones in the fluffy made sorry and scared poop smell absolutely horrid. Erik had to dash out of the safe room to vomit in the toilet. Normally it wouldn’t be so bad…but the room walls and floor were COVERED in it! He groaned. There was something… Erik had to look through one of his storage rooms…there! A partner’s mask! Next to the paint cans he planned to use…someday… He really had to paint the basement like he planned a year ago. Erik put the mask over his face and gathered his tools once more. He felt like he was going into war. The war was certainly raged on his nose.
It took an hour and a half. Not straight cleaning. Erik had to take bags of trash out a few times, and throw up again. Also throw out a set of clothes from when he slipped. It was something he’d rather forget. He had the look of a haunted changed man after the trash was all taken out and he took two showers. He still remembered the smell. Ugh. Sleet was out of control! She’d NEVER done sorry poopies at him before. He’d gotten her fairly young from a reputable breeder. They said they only sold well behaved fluffies. Was this what he feared? The bitch mare syndrome? He groaned to himself as he dried off. He’d have to fix her behavior. No way could he let her raise babies like that! He was showing her the videos, at least. The ones that told her that alicorns were the same as other fluffies. That all babies were good babies. Color didn’t matter. Erik feared that they would fall on deaf ears as well as his lessons.
Alright. He had to punish her. He hated to have to do this, but it was inevitable. He decided to install something he’d gotten a little earlier. A camera. He’d planned to put it there to watch the babies without disturbing them, but now it would be to keep an eye on Sleet. There was a mic attached so he could listen to what she said. He also read wheats made fluffy stool more solid. He’d added only a little bit to Sleet’s meals, but he was adding more. Hopefully this meant any sorry poops would be logs. She’d also be immobile soon. He wanted to look good to Sleet. Being a ‘Munsta daddeh’ or ‘meanie’ was the worst outcome for him. Yet he now had Sleet in a sorry box and muzzle downstairs. He’d enjoyed sorry sticking her and giving her a cold bath. Where had that anger come from? Oh well. He’d sleep on it. He’d retrieve Sleet in the morning.
The next morning Sleet seemed repentant. She was crying, her fur stained with tears. She was apologizing with her name. Erik took her back into the safe room and got her soon mummah kibble with some bread in it. Until he could get some proper grains for his fluffy, he’d put bread in it. “Okay, Sleet. Rest today. Watch your FluffTV.” He said gently. He turned on the soon mummah programming. He’d ask later what was on to see if she even listened to it…
Erik did some chores he neglected yesterday due to cleaning before he settled down to play some video games. He wanted to chill out before dealing with Sleet. There was likely to be another problem. Erik wanted to have his time to relax before that.
Three hours later, it was time to check on Sleet. She seemed to be watching the show. She was staring in that direction. Erik wanted until the show was over, and more commercials were on. “Hey, honey.”
“Name am Seet. Nu am huney.” Sleet said.
Erik chuckled. “It’s a nickname.” He said, petting Sleet. “So what were you watching?” He asked, watching her carefully.
“Teebee was tawking bout mummahs. Seet nu wemembah wut dey said. Was watchin’ babbehs.” Sleet said, wagging her tail.
Oh god no. Erik felt his eyelid twitch. “Well, you should listen to them.” He said. “I know your instincts tell you about how to be a mummah, but these are for the things fluffies don’t know.” He said.
“Buh Seet knu ebweting bout babbehs.” The fluffy claimed, puffing her cheeks.
“Not everything. That’s why these videos are made. For first time mummahs. Things you won’t know until you experience them. And how to take care of babbehs.” Erik was worrying now. She wasn’t even listening! “Plus about how to treat babbehs. Equally. No matter what color or type.” He said.
“Buh dose am dummeh babbehs.” Sleet protested.
Dammit. Nothing got through. Nothing! “Sleet…you shouldn’t think like that. If that was true, your mummah wouldn’t have liked you because of your color and spots.” It was a low blow, Erik knew, but the only way he could think to get through to her.
“Nu twue! Seet is pwetty fwuffy! Am bestest mummah!” Sleet tried to struggle to her feet, but found her belly was still on the ground.
“Looks like you’re immobile now.” Erik said. This meant no more physical punishment beyond a flick in the nose. The foals were too vulnerable. He gave her a flick.
“Owies! Why huwt soon mummah?!” The fluffy protested, her arms not reaching her snout.
“Because you were calling yourself the best mummah while also discriminating against your unborn foals. You’ll need to treat them all equally, Sleet.” Erik said, his voice a bit coldly. “I’ll be watching carefully.”
He left the room after, IMing the stud’s owner. He told him about how Sleet was acting differently and likely had bitch mare syndrome. He had cameras, but needed advice.
The response was near immediate. Keep an eye on her. It was good he had a camera, but he had to be there for the foaling. Keep formula on hand just in case. If she showed any negative reactions to the foals, separate her and them. Hand rear if necessary.
Erik sighed. Nothing about how to deal with Sleet. He asked, and got a bad response. She was a lost cause. She was fine before all this, and was acting up now. She was too lost by being a soon mummah. Erik refused to believe this. Somewhere in there had to be the Sleet he remembered. The sweetheart who sat with him on the couch…this had to just be the pregnancy hormones. This was what his heart said, even if his mind told him the breeder was far more experienced than he was. He must have seen this before. He even mentioned he moved onto studs because he was sick of dealing with mares.
Several days passed, with Erik trying to break through the mentality Sleet developed. It was a poor amount of success. She somehow thought she was the best mummah to have ever lived, despite having no experience and serious issues about species and color. Nothing worked. he’d have to make sure he kept a close eye on her when it was time to foal. Judging by how round she’d been getting, it was soon.
Sleet was getting demanding. Erik had put her in the mummah bed since she could no longer move. There was a litter box behind, her food and water in front. She was in front of the TV. Yet she still screeched and demanded things. The most disgusting and recent was demanding ‘licky cleanies’. Erik knew she wanted to be clean. He used wet wipes, but she kept trying to get I’m to use his tongue. He was NOT going to do that no matter what. Wet wipes, or he’d take her back to the bathroom if that wasn’t good enough. The threat of a bath was the only thing to shut her down.
Just when Erik thought he was going to go crazy, he heard the cry “BIGGEST POOPIES!!!” It has begun.
