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2746 15.29 KB 246
2746 15.29 KB 246
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>Be Anon
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>Lonely, got some spare cash from overtime you put in last week
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>Walking home from work, it's not that far
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>Walking by the pet shelter
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>Maybe a dog or something would help the dating situation, girls like dogs
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>Girls. You like girls
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>And going on dates
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>Shelter is dimly lit shithole, poster of cute puppy on the wall a more apt advertisement for preemptive euthanasia than adoption
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>4/10 blonde at the desk, looks like a voulenteeer
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>"Oh, Hello! Looking to adopt"
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>No, You are here to drink deep of the scent of dying animal
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"I am, what do you have?"
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>"Come on back!"
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>Back room smells like dogcat pissshit, might have cleaned it in the last couple of years
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>"Feel free to look around" Says volunteer femanon
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>A deeper pit of despair you have never seen
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>Dogs all shivering
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>Cats all hissing at you
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>Keep walking further back
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>See the most fucked up looking bright red dog on earth
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>Adopting Clifford would certainly be a conversation starter for all those parties you host
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>Dog looks at you
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>That shit is not a dog, looks more like a small brightly colored horse
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>It unsteadily gets to it's legs and walks the pace to the chainlink wall
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>Damn thing is about four feet tall at the shoulder, looking at you with fucking huge green eyes
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>He's a mess, his dusty yellow mane shaggy, tangled and looking stained with something
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>His red coat is tangled and matted
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>His hooves look brown with mud and you don't want to know what else.
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>"Oh, that poor thing" Femanon says "He was just dropped off here a month ago, between you and me it's almost time for E-U-T-H-E-N-A-S-S-I-A"
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>Bint is spelling like the damn thing can understand words anyway
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>The pony shivers, the motion making a large green apple shape clear on his hip
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>He's cute in a disgusting, dirty, pathetic sort of way
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>He might just do, looks like he could carry groceries for you or whatever, isn't growling, just starting at you
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"How much?"
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>Femanon prattles on about registration fees
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>Long story short, you buy the freakiest second hand dog in the city
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>Good going Anon, you are the best at shopping
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>Walk back into the storage area with femanon, she unlocks the cage
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>Pony-thing is sitting in the back corner, still shivering
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>"It's time to go home with your new daddy, cutie!"
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>You seriously can't stand that "pet daddy" shit
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>Femanon walking closer to the shivering pony and ties a some rope around its' neck
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>Damn, you'll need to buy it a collar and everything
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>Pony looks around for a moment, looking ready to run for it's life as femanon hands you the rope
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>You give it a soft tug and the pony stands, turning quickly and picking up a ragged, filthy looking you don't even know what. A teddy bear or something
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>"Oh, he doesn't go anywhere without that"
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>Gross, but whatever
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>You start leaving the area, ponything follows you easily enough, shaking but keeping pace with you.
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>Score, a pre-leash-trained pet.
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>The smog-stained air still smells better than the deathpit.
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>Ponything sways his short, tangled, gross tail in something like a wag, gross teddybeast in his jaws still
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"Well... uh, home's not far, and there's a petstore we can stop at"
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>Damn, now you're talking to it like it can understand words.
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>No, not it, it's a boy ponything, you think.
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>You start off down the street, the ponybeast keeps pace, even though this is the most he's walked in a month
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>Actually he's kind of a trooper in his own filthy, gross way
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>Trooper might be a good name
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>Get to "Smallest Pet Shop"
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>You have no idea why they call it that, damn thing is in an old Petsmart.
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>Go inside, get hate-glares from cash-slaves
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"Umm... do you have stuff for ponies?"
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>Cash-slave points you to the back corner and goes back to playing farmville
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>Find some pony food and salt licks, apperently having small colorful house-equines is a niche market
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>Even find a nice collar for Trooper, and a leash to go with it
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>Even manage to find a saddlebag the right size for him
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>What, you're not carrying everything when you have a miniature pack horse
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>Pick up some pony-wash and food bowls on your way out
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>Cash-slave rings everything up while begging her friends to water her virtual plants
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>Trooper is wearing his bag and carrying most of your purchases, still on the rope
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>Not going to put his collar on until he gets a bath or something
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>Walks home with you without leaving your side or falling behind
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>Return to shithole apartment building
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>Enter just barely not shithole apartment and take off Trooper's saddlebag with some difficulty, taking out the pony wash
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>Now that you're inside, you notice Trooper smells like dogcat pissshit
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>Use the rope to lead Trooper into your cramped bathroom and take the ponywash with you
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>Lock door and remove the rope, starting the shower on the hottest setting, lukewarm
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>Trooper looks suspiciously at the shower as you gently corral him in; setting down his ragbeast on the toilet cover, the pony startles under the water for a moment before relaxing, sitting on his haunches. The water coming off him is already a shit-brown.
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>Trooper seems to slowly relax as you pour the ponywash down his back and in his mane, avoiding his freaky-huge eyes
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>Work the ponywash into his tangled mane, the big thing twitching and making a soft whinny as you tug on the knots
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>You slow down, still trying to work out the tangles and deciding only a trimmer can fix this.
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>Work the soap into his coat, rubbing his belly and sides gently, the pony colder than you would expect of an animal and his ribs easy to feel
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>Trooper has earned his name, even in the face of malnutrition
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>Do Trooper's tail, finding it equally tangled and unruly
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>After half an hour, the ponybeast smells like soap instead of death.
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>Shut off the shower and towel him off
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>Trooper starts shivering as you dry off his chest and nearly visible ribs
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>Open bathroom door and get an old blanket from your room
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>Find Trooper in the bathroom, laying on his belly with his ragbeast between his forelegs
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>Drape the blanket over him and dig out your beard trimmer
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>Clip on the longest head and start it up
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>Trooper twitches and looks up at the source of the noise, holding his ragthing closer
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>It's cute in a gross way, you don't even want to know what that thing has soaked in over the past month, you'll throw it away tonight
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>You sit next to your tiny horse and start to trim his mane
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>Trooper looks ready to run, but stays still as you take out all the knots, leaving his mane a mostly uniform short-ish length
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>You do the same to his tail
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>Now he looks like a tiny warhorse or something
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>Girls will love a tiny brightly colored warhorse, it's feminine yet masculine. You'll be complex
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>Take out the scissors and take out the worst of the coat tangles
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>Trooper now looks patchy but dignified
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>You give him a little pet and leave, setting his bowls in the kitchen corner and filling them with food and water
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>You whistle
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>Okay, you can't whistle, you sort of blow air
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>Trooper gets the message and trots over to you, his newly-clean hooves a flat yellow
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>You have a sensibly colored technicolor tiny house-horse, score a second time
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>Trooper picks up the pace when he sees the food, eating everything in under a minute and lapping up the water in twice the time
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>You leave him and find his gross ragbeast
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>There it is, in the bathroom
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>You pick it up with two fingers and start toward the trash can
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>Trooper rams your hip with his head and starts whining, forehooves pawing at you gently, eyes locked on the ragthing
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"Trooper, this thing is disgusting, I'm throwing it away and getting you a new one"
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>There you are, talking to it again
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>Push past him and drop the offending cloth filth-sponge in the trashcan, Trooper pawing at your thighs and whining the whole time
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>He starts nuzzling at the trashcan afterwards, still whining
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>Go and get his collar while he's busy
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>Clip his collar on, making sure it's not going to fall off but loose enough not to choke your mighty tiny warhorse
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>It's a dark brown, kind of a nice color on Trooper you think
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>He's still trying to get the trash open
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"Trooper, you don't go into the trash"
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>You say this and tug on his collar, he whinnies again and whines, lowering his head and flattening his ears
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>You let him go, and he doesn't go back to digging in the trash
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"Good boy"
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>For his obedience, he gets an earrub
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>Walk over to your couch and flip on the television
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>Well, it's a few feet away, you sort of shuffle a yard and sit.
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>You pat the seat next to you.
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>Trooper jumps up and sits down next to you, curling up and looking tired
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>Watch television with your ponybeast, petting his side and ears
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>He seems to like it, you think. Or he could just be asleep
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>Yeah, he's asleep
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>Nothing to stay up for, you turn off the lights and walk into your bedroom
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>Still no gf. Want a gf. Definitely.
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>Fall asleep
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>Crash, bang, someone swearing loudly
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>Fuck, someone has broken into your shithole apartment building and is in your kitchen
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>Dynamicly exit your bed and grab the kendo stick you keep for just this purpose
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>Burst out into your kitchen-living-entry room
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>Find nothing, just Trooper looking sheepish with that damn filthsponge in his mouth surrounded by garbage, trash can tipped over
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>Check your front door
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>Still locked, must have hallucinated the yelling, or it could've been Mr. McYellsAtTheTV downstairs
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>You look around at the grabage and the pony now laying on his belly, looking like he's trying to hide under his forelegs
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"Trooper, what did I..."
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>You stop, talking to animals is a crazy cat lady thing to do.
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>At this point it might just be easier to wash Trooper's filthbeast tomorrow
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"Whatever"
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>You walk back into your bedroom, flipping off the lights as you go
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>Getting comfortable as you see Trooper in the doorway
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>You pat some of the open space on your bed
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>Trooper gets the message and climbs onto the bed, settling on top of the cover
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>You pull the cover out from under trooper and cover him
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>The ponybeast makes a gentle happy noise, drops the smelly rag-beast in the bed and snuggles close to you, licking your cheek softly
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>Trooper is really affectionate, it seems.
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>You pet is newly-clean coat, stroking through his mane and hugging him close
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>The pony falls asleep within moments
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>His soft breaths are actually kind of relaxing, his breath smelling a bit like hay, his side rising and falling under your arm
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>You fall asleep with this massive teddy bear of a pet in your arms
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>Morning of the second day
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>You wake up as you feel the pony stirring next to you, his hooves pressing into you as he stretches
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>It's freaking dawn.
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>Birds are chirping and everything
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>Trooper retrieves his stinkrag and hops out of bed
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>You grumble and growl at the world for having the audacity to be morning, and get out of bed
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>"Horsefeathers!"
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>You hear in your kitchen, accompanied by a heavy crash
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>Kendo stick, dynamic entry
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>Trooper is laying on the floor on his side, holding one foreleg to his chest and whining
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>And noone else is in the room, front door still locked
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>Sherlock mode engaged
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>Hear a voice in a room occupied only by your pony...
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>Wait, shit, Trooper is hurt
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>Kneel next to the pony, almost slipping on some of the trash still on the floor
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>He's still whimpering and holding his foreleg, looks like he's crying
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>You try to touch the leg to examine it with your doctorate from WebMD
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>"Don' touch that!" Trooper says
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>Wait, what.
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>Trooper slaps his one good foreleg over his mouth and looks terrifyed
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"Umm... Trooper, did you just talk?"
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>The pony looks at you, the away, going back to cradling his hurt foreleg
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"Trooper, you definately just spoke just now"
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>The pony remains mute and tries to nuzzle one of your palms
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>You stroke his mane and ears, then stand to start picking up the garbage
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"Well, I'll just throw this away then"
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>You say, getting closer to his ragmonster, leaning down to pick it up
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>"Wh-wait! Don' do that!"
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>Trooper lunges to you, hugging around your legs with his good leg
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>"Pleas' by the godesses is all ah have an'..." Trooper starts gibbering, tearing up and burying his face in your calves, half his words cut short by sobs
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>You awkwardly turn around and manage to sit on some dry floor, Trooper still gibbering something about " ah wanna be a g-good pet j-jus' lemme keep that..."
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>You reach down and stroke his ears, which just seems to make him whine more as he awkwardly pushes himself closer, head buried in your stomach
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"Uh... Trooper, slow down"
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>You say, free hand feeling for concussion marks, whatever those feel like
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>Trooper takes a shuddering breath and hugs his hurt leg to his chest, good leg around your back
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>"P-p-please mister ah wanna be a g-good pet d-don' send me b-back"
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"Hey, hey I'm... not going to send you anywhere, alright?"
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>Trooper just sobs in response, shoulders heaving
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>You pet down his ears and neck, trying to comfort the bizzare talking ponybeast
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"I won't throw away your... whatever it is"
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>"Sm-martah pants..." He manages, pressing into your petting
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"Smarty pants... alright, how'd you get that?"
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>Trooper snivels and whines softly as he puts a little weight on his foreleg, getting more of his weight in your lap
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>"G-gift from ah 'nother pony I kn-knew... b-back in the trainin' facility"
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>You start petting Trooper's neck now, the action seeming to calm him down
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>"Is all ah have t-ta remember mah friends and family..."
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"Oh, you... well, how long ago was that?"
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>Trooper sniffles, tears slowly stopping
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>"Ha-had ta be more than' ah year ago... I w-was b-baught by my firs' master..."
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>The pony moves in closer, hurt leg moving around your back with a slight wince
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>"Ah-ah triah'd to be good for 'em, I listen'd and didn' talk when they didn' want me ta..."
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>Trooper starts shuddering, sniffling and sobbing returning in fits and starts
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>"An' ah really trah'd! Ah d-did! B-but tha master I was bough' for didn't wan' me..."
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>You hug the pony close, careful of his hurt leg
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>"H-he c-called me freaky and stupid... ah' just wanted ta be ah good pet..."
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>You stroke Trooper's ears
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"You're not stupid, Trooper"
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>A true statement, considering he's the only talking pet you know
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>"Ah-ah... triah'd!" The pony sobs
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>You pick him up, belly-up in your arms.
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>He's heavy, but you set him on the couch on his side and start petting along his chest, leaving his head in your lap
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>He hasn't stopped talking the whole time
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>"An' ah I jus' wanted to help clean' up b-but I slipped and now yer gonna send me back to the shelter an' ah'm n-never gunna s-see mah family again an'"
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>You shush the pony gently, if only to stop the barrage
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"Trooper, nobody is going back to any shelters, okay?"
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>He hugs you with his forelegs, only answering by crying loudly
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>You stroke the ponies' ears and mane, the crying intensifying
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>"Na'body wan's me..."
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>You wrap the pony in your old blanket, touching his hurt leg only drawing a little wince, he must of only pulled it a little
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"I bought you, didn't I?"
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>"Y-yer gunna send me away like mah first family an'-an' nobody want'ed me in th' shelter an'"
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"Why would I do that?"
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>"Ah-ah'm a b-bad pet an' nobody wan's a bad pet..."
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>You wrap the blanket a little tighter, stroking his ears
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"I don't think you're a bad pet"
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>"B-b-but ah' am or ah'd still be with ma first master o-or frien's"
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"Trooper, it's okay..."
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>You wrap him in a tight hug, the pony awkwardly draping his forelegs around your neck as he rests his head on your shoulder
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>"Mah Gr-granny n-named me M-Mac, B-Big Mac"
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"Alright, it's okay Big Mac"
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