Fluffy Shelter for the Abused

Fluffy Shelter for the Abused: Spud


You scratch the back of your neck, you were bitten by a mosquito. Be British teenager who moved to America. You recently volunteered at the Fluffy Shelter for the Abused. They were rare back in England, at least as ferals. The constant rain soaked straight through their fluff. It started out as just a way to pass the time when you weren’t backpacking. But it’s oddly rewarding in the long run for you.
“Hey Crush” you say as you step over the limb lacking ball of fuzz. The blue fluffy stares up at you, waving his wheel at you with a smile before he sets off walking again. It looked loose, you’d better let someone know, Crush seems awfully particular with who mends his ‘special leg’. Oh well, it’s his choice.
You’re not a medical expert by any means, you know just about enough to do standard check ups. But you sincerely enjoy and are skilled at being emotional support. One of the few uses of looking after your neighbours kids, you got used to the sometimes rather bratty demands. Still, most fluffies here were sweet after what happened to them.
You stop for a moment, leaning down to lift up a purple fluffy missing his back legs. Poor guy was struggling to get over a step. Leaning up with some difficulties, he smiles at you
“Fank yu missta” he says with a beaming smile. Gently, you tickle softly behind his ears. You’ve never had to treat him, so you don’t know his name, but evidently he’s a polite one. Leaving him to whatever business he has, you head to collect your work for the day.
David is manning the desk today. Kind of a short guy, you can’t help but be reminded of an Oompa Loompa. Perhaps that’s why the fluffies love him so much, his lack of imposing appearance. Looking up at you, he offers a small smile, evidently a little bored. Reaching under the desk, he hands you a clipboard.
“Special case today” he tells you “New patient coming in” you look at the clipboard briefly, trying to make sense of his rather mucky handwriting
“Stray?” you ask.
“Nah, some guys pet. Apparently he found out his girlfriend was using it for a beauty study” You read slowly through the details.
“Male, Spud, that’s unimaginative. ..She lasered his fuzz off?” you ask him, a little shocked. Some girl used their fluffy as a mannequin? Granted it’s not as brutal as some things you’ve seen, but damn, the thing must’ve been terrified.
“Yeah. According to the guy its physically unhurt. But mentally it’s having a little trouble” he tells you as he types something up, you don’t know what “You’re getting him settled, ok?”
“Ok” you tell him. You’d sort of worked that out on your own. Going over the last few details, you freeze on one key one
“It’s a Shetland fluffy? Wow, this is new one for us” you clasp the clipboard under your arm as you head to the main reception to greet the new arrival.
He is deposited fifteen minutes later in one of those cardboard pet carriers, Its recent owner, a guy in his mid twenties, looks at you sheepishly before quickly leaving. Back in England, Sheltand fluffies were one of the more common ones, being that real Shetland ponies are beloved by the population of England. From what you remember, despite being smaller than most fluffies, Shetlands are twice as strong, but quiet. Prying, you open the top.
“Hey there little guuuuuuyyaaaaaho!” the head quickly turns up to look at you. All around the fluffy’s eyes, the fluff has been permanently lasered off in a raccoon like mask. So has the top of his mane, leaving his eyes exposed. And as it turns out, Shetlands have very wide eyes, almost looking too large for their sockets.
After staring at you for a few seconds, Spud looks around with rapid eye movements, taking in his new surroundings before hooking his legs over the edge of the box to look outside.
“Fwuffy see all. Fwuffy see evewyfing……fwuffy no wike it, fwuffy want mane back wight now!” he demands, louder than you’ve ever heard a Shetland shout before. It kind of makes sense. Shetland Fluffies naturally have a mane that covers their eyes, much like your own hair comes around yours. For it to suddenly be gone must be a shock.
“All right, calm down fuzzball” you tell him, carefully grabbing him round his waist to pick him out. He doesn’t struggle, and just sits in your arms as he looks around. The moment you pass under a light however, he shoves his face into your arms, his eyes just poking out from below them. You sigh, this guys going to be a hard one.
“Ok? Is it staying on?” You ask the bundle of fluff.
“Yes nice mistah” Spud tells you, his head nodding in a little bob. You quickly grab his head.
“If you do that it’ll fall off” you tell him softly. As a temporary solution to his non obstructed view, you’ve tied a thin strip of bandage round his eyes, roughly mimicking the eyesight he would’ve had when his mane was full length. Taking the opportunity to examine him closer, you’d discovered that whilst much of his fluff was gone, beyond one or two small burns on his skin, Spud had no real damage.
The real issue is that he now seems thoroughly terrified of the fact that there is a way of seeing without his mane in the way. A way that to him that seems unnatural. And given that fluffies relish in their hugs and fluffpiles, a simple bandage won’t do as a permanent solution. For the time being however, Spud is now content to follow you around as you show him.
“That’s where we keep all the toys for you and the other fluffies” you say, pointing to a play room.
“Okay mistah”
“In that room is where we keep the blankets and cushions is you want to take a nap and you’re walking around outside the pens”
“You haf bwankies?” wow, a fluffy with enough initiative to make sure you’re telling the truth
“Yes fluffball. And this” you tell him as you lead him into a large room, divided into sections “Is where you will be staying” most of the pens are open right now, the fluffies who can move socialising or simply stretching their legs in the open. And almost immediately, two of them come up to say hello. Timmy and Andre.
“Who dis?” Timmy asks you, looking pat your legs to see the fluffy stood there. Andre however, just stood, looking up at you, no doubt expecting a hug from you.
“New guy Timmy, make him feel welcome” you tell him. Immediately, the cyan fluffy squeals and shoots past you, eager to meet the tiny new friend. Fulfilling Andres wish, you reach down to give the giant fluffy a hug, before he too walks past you to greet the new guest. Feeling safe in the welcoming committee for a moment, you check over the pens still holding mothers and their foals. You are quick to return a few adventurous foals who have ambled off back to their mothers, you hug the tiny babies tightly before thanking you.
This little ‘dawwww’ moment is interrupted by a loud squealing from behind you. You turn quickly, only to find Spud vanished, and Timmy holding the bandage in his mouth.
“Timmy, where’s Spud?” You ask him, only for the fluffy to tilt his head at you. Oh right, you haven’t told him spuds name yet.
“The new fluffy” you reiterate.
“Ohhhhh” Timmy draws out his vowels, before pointing at Andre. From just under his side, you can see a brown tail poking out. You sigh, bending down. Spud is huddled under the colossal fluffy, his eyes buried in fluff.
“Dis bettah”
“David, despite my faith in your abilities, I don’t see this being any better than my idea” you tell the man as you watch Spud happily amble around the carpet.
“What’s there to go wrong? It’s perfect” he says, leaning down to tickle the giggling fluffy. On its head sits a black toupee, its size clearly meant for a human flowing past the fluffy’s eyes and across his nose.
“Fank yoo for new mane nice mistah” he says to David, before waddling off again.
“Well, if fluffy rule holds…” you explain, waiting for fate to show itself. The hairs tickling the Spuds nose twitch a little before he stops. With a comically over exaggerated motion, the fluffy sneezes loudly, the wig shooting off its head.
“Fwuffy sowwy fow sneezies” he says, before going rigid. He can see again “WHEWE MANE, WHEWE MANE!” He cries, trying to look upwards for the missing hair. Following fluffy logic, he stands up trying to see, immediately falling on his back, legs kicking. The pair of you sigh.
“Back to the drawing board.