Untitled Short Pet Story #1

 

“Blossom...”

 

You stand to face him with a quizzical expression at the sound of your name. His expression is one of simultaneous amusement and frustration. He haphazardly taps his fingers against his chin as though trying to figure out what to do with you. “Master?…” you begin as you start towards him- “No Blossom! Stay.” he quickly commands. He thinks for a moment before making a gesture for you to stay where you are. He then disappears up the hallway.

 

Oh no what have you done. He doesn’t seem mad. But you feel like a perpetrator nonetheless. Your little horsie brain starts to spin trying to figure out what’s going on but fails to do so before Master returns, seemingly more chipper than when you had seen him last.

 

He’s approaching you slowly, as though you’re standing in a minefield and he’s about to rescue you. You gauge the situation and make an effort not to move a muscle. Eventually, he’s standing right over you, where he secures his hands to either side of your barrel and lifts you into the air.

 

From your new aerial vantage-point you begin surveying the room below. An expression of realisation falls across your face as you spot the muddy little hoof-prints that now litter the path from the doorway to the rug in front of the TV.

 

“Master! I’m sorry I didn’t realise! I wasn’t paying attention!”

 

“You’re not in trouble, but no furniture privileges for a week.”

 

You accept your tough but fair punishment as he brings you to the bathroom, the bath already full of hot water that leaves foggy trails up the cold tiles. The water laps at your hooves as Master slowly lowers you into the water.

 

You splish-splash a little as you find stability on the bottom of the tub. Your coat is soaking up water like a sponge and you immediately feel heavier. Master reaches over to the other side of the bath and grabs the Mane ‘n Tail shampoo, which he promptly squeezes onto your head. Master rubs and massages the product into your mane and coat, ensuring you’re enveloped in a layer of fluffy white bubbles. He takes a small cup, scoops up some bath water and pours it over you rinsing out the Mane ‘n Tail along with all the built-up sand and dirt you had accrued. It’s a pleasant sensation as the subtle discomfort of little grains of dirt and sand leave your body.

 

Master puts the cup down and starts spot cleaning your coat. He’s singing Highway Fever to himself as he rubs a spot of dirt from under your left eye. Then a patch of dried mud from under your barrel. Pretty soon you’re feeling about as clean as you’ve ever been, and Master extracts his pony from the now murky water and sets you down on the bathroom rug.

 

He casts a big fluffy towel over you and your vision goes dark for a few seconds while he dries off your coat. He smushes your face with dabbing motions for a bit before your eyes break through the fluffy folds into the light. Master’s expression tells you that despite everything, he enjoys taking care of his pet pony.

 

“Master, I love you!”

 

“I love you too, Blossom.”

 

Master holds your damp little body close and picks you up, towel and all. He takes you back to the living room, where the credits of the cow movie are playing. He turns the TV to the news and you zone out to his idle drying and petting. The towel is warm from your body heat and the petting is slow, rhythmic and comforting. You close your eyes and sleep, knowing there’s no place you’d rather be.