Chapter 8
Erik felt he’d hit a stroke of genius! He’d been searching the web for shelters, and found a perfect one. It didn’t just accept fluffies, but offered help! Erik sent an email right away. It went
“To whom it may concern
I would like some help with my fluffy Sleet. She was a sweet fluffy until I bred her. Now she has turned into a bitch mare. She’s made two alicorns and two patterned fluffies. She broke the leg of the non patterned one and calls them not pretty or monsters. I don’t know what to do with her.
I have her pregnant again, but is there a way after that to fix her? Or should I just turn her over to you? Please help in any way you can.
Regards, Erik.”
The response was…shockingly quick as a matter of fact. He read through it.
“Erik,
Unfortunately your fluffy seems to be have been bred too early and the bitch-mare syndrome is
now essentially part of her development. This can be reversed with therapy but that takes a lot
of time, and you have little ones now. That she has been bred a second time rather cements the
syndrome but it is not completely reversible.
The worst thing you can do is to do nothing. The solutions I would recommend in order are:
- Permanent separation from her children and getting her fixed.
- Separating her from the rejected children and raising them in better conditions.
- Aborting the current litter.
- Pillow her.
- Surrender her to the clinic for use as breeding stock.
If you need assistance placing her offspring in good homes we can faciliate this without
charge. We do provide spaying, abortion, pillowing, and other alterations for fluffies. As your
signature line has indicated you are several hours away, I will be sending a package by
overnight courier.
Please find within:
One (1) Adult fluffy carrier
One (1) Top-opening juvenile fluffy carrier
One (1) Self-warming chirpie incubator, capacity six (6)
Twelve (12) Spare feeding nipples for incubator
Two (2) Spare fleece top-pads for incubator (machine washable)
Three (3) Spare fleece blankets for incubator (machine washable)
One (1) Hand-pump fluffy milker with two (2) spare cup sets and four (4) spare bottles
One (1) Bottle-to-incubator adapter with milk warming functionality
One (1) Leg isolation board, Adult female fluffy type, compatible with carrier
One (1) Saf-t-bite padded muzzle, adult fluffy size
Thirty-two ounces (32 oz) Instant-mummah fluffy formula, pharmacy grade
Three (3) Bad-bowel-blocker rectal stoppers, adult fluffy size
One (1) Head bag, adult fluffy size
These are provided free of charge through a grant by the Alenix Fluffy Foundation and are
certified HugBoxBros approved products. If you choose to raise the chirpies yourself we have
literature and products on-site which may be subsidized by the same foundation.
If you decide to use our services please call for an appointment.
Best of luck,
Sam.”
Bred too quick? Damn…Erik thought he’d done his research right. But these people were experts. He looked through the signatures. Well, he already pillowed her. He already isolated the foals…he supposed he would get her spayed after her current litter. If that didn’t help…well, he’d just have to get rid of her. He did plan to breed Goldenrod. Apparently stallions didn’t have the problem. They’d only want gud feews, and Erik could get them enfie toys for that.
He looked over what he was given, which was more generous than he expected. He didn’t have all that stuff for the chirpies. He could now feed them at the same time. And had incubators for the new foals. There was even stuff to keep Sleet under control. Rectal stoppers, head bags, and padded muzzles. Damn. He might let them take care of rehoming the other chirpies if he found no takers. Modifications…maybe he’d ask them about Brownie’s leggie. He saw the pictures of fluffies with wheelchairs…surely a prosthetic leg was easier. He may have to wait until she was older. He shot back an email thanking them, and asking about Brownie and her leg. He said he had to have it amputated after Sleet broke it. Was there a possibility of her getting a prosthetic?
Surprisingly he got an email back just as quick.
“Erik,
Since your mare produces both patterns and alicorns this makes her eggs quite valuable, even to a small lab such as ours. As such compensation for this could be arranged in the form of a leg transplant, rather than prosthesis. The foal would need to spend a few days with us and there would need to be a proper physical therapy regimen but providing we can find a close enough fit there would be no long term debility. The only big issue would be color-matching.
Sam"
Perfect. He’d be sure to send them both in. A leg transplant? He’d never heard of that option for a fluffy, but it would allow Brownie to live a happy life. He was sure Brownie wouldn’t mind if the color was a little off. She’d have a leg again. Already the foal knew and experienced some of life without a front leg. Having one again was sure to erase any unease about it not being the same color.
He decided to check on his little ones. They were playing Hide and Seekies. Though whenever a foal was found, they got a hug. The alicorns were the ones who’d helped explain the rules. They were the same age, but the two were more advanced. He loved that about them. It was a shame he’d have to give up Midnight, but he did make a deal. And he was kind of done with mares, even if he had a soft spot for Brownie. They were all getting along without prejudice. Erik had to step in to resolve little arguments, but beyond that it felt perfect. He’d been told by the doctor he had to be better with discipline, though. He’d managed to do so with litterbox training, though it stung his heart to use a flick on them when they didn’t use it.
It was easier to be frustrated with Sleet. She should know better. He’d raised her from a foal, and thought he’d taught her fright from wrong. Yet she chose wrong. She chose to call her babbehs ugly. Hell, she chose to try to hurt them! Erik couldn’t blame her if she didn’t like a color, but she chose violence against her own children. He was careful to keep up her punishment, but it was a razor’s edge. He couldn’t stress her enough for her to abort the babbehs. He did have the mummah lessons playing a lot. On repeat. Maybe, just maybe something would get through. He knew it wouldn’t…but it was something he could hope for. Sleet’s mood seemed to have improved since she was singing mummah songs again.
Luckily this pregnancy was far less drama filled. Erik only had to use the sorry stick once when Sleet had tried to scream for sketti. He used the new paddle muzzle sent over and put her in the sorry box for a while. Other than that, Sleet didn’t make any demands. She asked for plenty, but got very few things she asked for. Erik did keep up on her nutritional needs though. He wasn’t risking the new foals.
His life fell into a routine he liked. Taking care of the chirpies, feeding Slate every so often, and watching TV with the little ones. They were still on milk and learning. He got to hear all about their day, even if it was mundane. Even if he saw half of it already. He checked on the cameras once in a while while he did chores or work.
Finally…the day happened. He’d been hoping to watch TV for a while, when he heard that fated cry.
“DADDEH! BIGGES POOPIES! BABBEHS COMIN!”
Erik was awake in an instant. It was early in the morning. He glanced at the clock. 3-ish in the morning. Ugh. This would be a long, long day. He got a few things ready. The chirpie incubator with the bottles. He turned it on to let it get warm. He moved Sleet with her birthing mat into the kitchen so he could get some bottles with formula ready. He’d had everything set up for the past few days. It just needed to be turned on and warmed up. He’d known Sleet had been close to birthing.
“Calm down, Sleet.” Erik said. He had a hand on her back so she couldn’t flail and wiggle like she was. He was ready this time with wet wipes. Sleet’s contractions hit, and Erik could hear the foals had woken, and were distressed. “Don’t worry, guys. I’m fine. The screaming will be over soon. Babbehs are coming.” It didn’t do too much to soothe them…but he knew he had to concentrate on the babbehs here. The first one was coming out.
It was beautiful. A pegasus, beautiful light blue with white spots. It was a filly with a white tail nub Erik noted, as he cleaned her. He put her in the chirpie incubator, letting her suckle at the warmed milk between peeps.
“Whewe babbeh? Wan see bab-SCREEEEE!”
Another contraction overtook Sleet, saving Erik the need to answer.
An orange blob came out next, and Erik was quick to clean…him as it turned out. A sunset orange earthie colt, but the color lightened like a gradient towards yellow. Erik felt awe as he cleaned this one off, and led it to the next bottle in the incubator. His sister had already rolled off, a full belly and gave a tiny burp. Erik had put some paper toweling down where their rears would be. They were prone to release their bowels after a full stomach.
“Daddeh, wan see babbehs!” Sleet demanded.
“You’ll see them after they’re done.” Erik said, a bit forcefully. Truthfully, she would only be able to see them. He was the one who would be taking care of them and raising them.
The third one was being birthed, cherry red with white streaks in its fur. A unicorn too. And…a girl. Erik cleaned her off, putting her next to the brother who was still drinking milk, but slowing down as his hunger was sated. Now that he had another sister by him, the boy was a bit bigger than expected.
The fourth babbeh was coming out, and it looked like this would be the last one. Dark blue. Erik cleaned them off, and gasped. An alicorn! Beautiful dark blue, and a had a purple tail nub. A colt. He cleaned this one off, putting him on the next auto feeder. He was right about the pegusus boy. He was larger than the rest of his siblings.
He turned his attention to Sleet, and the after birth gushed out. He cleaned her up, taking his time. After all, she could wait. She’d resumed her whining of wanting to see the babbehs. Only after he was done cleaning did he turn her around.
Sleet gasped. “Babbehs am su pwetty!” She seemed to have not noticed one was an alicorn. “Babbehs am cum to mummah for huggies?”
Erik only looked at Sleet. “They’re not your babbehs. I’m raising them.”
Sleet looked shocked. “Wha? Buh…am Seet’s babbehs!”
“You rejected your other children. So you don’t get to have babbehs.” He said sternly.
“Nu! Gib babbehs! Dummeh daddeh! Am Seet’s babbehs!” She screamed, flailing her little stumps.
Entitled little bitch… Erik thought. He grabbed the sorry stick, and went at it with Sleet. Ten strikes was what he went for. The whole time Sleet cried and screamed.
“SCREEEEE! NU! NU HUWT FWUFFY! NU DU ANYTING! FWUFFY SOWWY!” Sleet screamed, squirming.
“I. Am. Not. A. Dummeh. You do NOT call me that.” Erik snarled. He finally let up, and put the sorry stick on the hook. He had…a lot more than he wanted to now. They had to be constant reminders to Sleet to have them around. “And after how you treated your babbehs last time, I’m not letting you near these ones. You don’t get to decide to parent one set and neglect another.” He left Sleet crying there, sitting her own urine as he carefully picked up the incubation box. He was taking it to the other babbehs to see their new siblings.
The foals had an accident, unfortunately. In their bed. Erik sighed, and the foals hurriedly started to apologize. “I know. You guys were woken suddenly and scared. Just be more careful next time.” He told them. He got the blanket out of the way. “I have a surprise for you five.” He said. “Be careful with them.” He set the incubator down. “These are your siblings.” He said. “They were just born. Too little for names.” He said.
Goldenrod gasped. “Dawk babbeh am wike Wod and Nite!” Goldenrod had taken to calling himself ‘Rod’ for short and Midnight was Nite.
Erik smiled. “Indeed he is.” He said. He stroked the alicorn with a finger.
Spot joined in, looking for a fluffy like him. “Bwue babbeh wike Spot!” He said, wagging his tail, his front hooves having him dance in place.
Erik nodded. “A pegusus like you. But she’s a filly.” He agreed.
Camo crept forward shyly. “Wed babbeh am wike Camo?” She said in a question.
Erik nodded again. “A unicorn filly…” He said to Camo, lightly patting her head.
Finally Brownie toddled forward. “Bwite babbeh wike Bwonie?” She asked.
Erik smiled. “Yes. He’s a colt, but he’s and earthie like you.” He said.
He stroked each new babbeh, and had pet each foal. “They’re too little to play, but I’ll bring them in here when I can.” He smiled at Brownie. “And Brownie, honey, I have great news. We can get you a new leg.”
Brownie looked up, hope in her eyes. “Weally?” She asked.
“Really. I’ll take you to a special doctor. They’ll give you a new leg. It might hurt a little, and your walkies will be a little hard at first, but you’ll have a new leg. You’ll be able to run again.” He hugged the filly close as she gave a happy girly scream of excitement. The other foals were cheering, glad for their sister’s happiness. They’d seen the frustration their sister had with a leg missing. The idea she could run like them made them so happy. “I’ll take you tomorrow, okay? I have to take the mean fluffy too. She’s not getting legs, though. She’s getting a checkup after having babbehs.” It was a lie…only partially. She was getting fixed. She was letting the facility harvest her eggs before fixing her. In exchange, they gave Brownie a leg transplant for free! Pretty good deal.
Erik played with the foals, letting them celebrate. He watched them play huggie tag, and read to them after giving them new, unsoiled blankets. When they fell asleep, he carefully took the incubator to his room. He changed out the paper toweling under their rears, since they’d soiled it already. Erik also finally cleaned Sleet up, and moved her to her closet room. She was still crying over not being able to care for her babbehs. Well, that was her fault. All hers. Erik sighed and set alarms for when he’d have to wake to feed the little ones, but other than that, he was free to sleep.
Tomorrow…would be eventful.