>"You fuckin' idiot."
"It's not my fault!"
>"Uh, yeah. It is. Don't you know like, 25-"
"Percent of fluffy ponies die from drowning each year, yeah, I fucking know, but he won't wake up. He needs some kind of help now!"
>How is it that vets can never find good help
>The tired woman looks down at skittles, unconscious in your arms
>"Looks stable to me. Sit over there and we'll get to him when we get to him."
"What? He needs the doctor now!"
>"Sir, with all due respect, fuck off and sit your ass down."
>You sit, not happy
>You feel like you should be doing something for Skittles, like trying to wake him or something, but you're afraid you'd do more harm than good
>Skittles is completely still, but breathing
>You're lucky he's alive
>Fuck
 
>After a whole god damn half hour the doctor comes out for you
>"Mr... Anon?"
"Yeah, that's me!"
>You walk with him out into the hallway
>He seems flustered, as many doctors do
"It's my fluffy, he almost-"
>"Drowned? Let me guess, you tried feeding it without a bottle?"
"Yeah."
>"1: Fuck yourself. 2: Get a bottle. 3: Read a god damn book about owning a pet before you buy one, ass-clown."
>He grabs Skittles out of your arms effortlessly and lays him on the table
>He inspects him a bit, including opening his eyelids
>"Yeah, he's dying."
"WHAT!?"
>"Shut the fuck up, I can fix this."
>He reaches to the counter in the room and pulls a little tool off of it
>He places two soft prongs from the tool on Skittles' belly
>"1, 2, 3."
>He presses the tool down onto Skittles. Nothing happens.
>"1, 2, 3."
>Nothing happens
>"1, 2, 3."
>Jab
>Nothing happens
>Skittles has stopped breathing
 
>"Well, fuck."
"What do you mean?!"
>"He's fucked. He's got water in his lungs, but I'm not getting a response out of him. He's still alive, but he'll be dead in a few minutes."
>A silence enters
>The doctor isn't stirred by this at all
>You don't blame him; these things must drop like flies, given the amount of owners who are as shitty as you
>Oh man, he's dead
>"Yeah.... I'm calling it."
>He sees your depression and hesitates a moment before resuming his job
>"You can see the receptionist on the way out. I gotta go, you know... more of this shit."
"Yeah, no... sure thing... thanks..."
>Silence
>"Hey, buddy, don't worry about it. I've seen worse owners than you."
>The comment doesn't make you fe-
>
>Skittles' right forehoof wiggles and his snout erupts in a fountain of excess water and mucus
>His eyes open wide and tear up
>He's wiggling around the table like a madman
>The doctor springs into action and grabs a sponge and washcloth off of the counter to clean up all the shit
"What?! What happened?!"
>He looks at you
>"Dude, it's a little fluffy pony. Fuck if I know."
>Skittles is shouting
>"Why tummy huwt! Owchies, daddy!"
 
"Skittles!"
>You go in for a hug, but the doctor stops you
>"Woah woah, buddy, I need to clean this up first. We're not out of the woods."
>"Daddy dis pwace *cough* scawyyy!"
"I know, I know, kiddo, just relax, it'll be okay."
>"Daddy..."
>You're all silent while the doctor finishes wiping
>After he's done, he backs off
>Skit is fine, just wet a bit
>You come in to pick him up and pull him to your chest
>Skittles is crying
>"Daddy i sowwy, Skittows sowwy!"
"What? No, no, you didn't do anything wrong!"
>"No wan' spwashies no mow!"
>The doctor tosses you a spare bottle
>"Yeah, you're gonna want one of these, idiot.""
"Thanks, thanks, man..."
>"Yeah, that's gonna be 20$."
"For a bottle?"
>"Fuck you, I just brought him back from the dead."
>You hand him the money, trying to calm Skittles down
>He's down to a slow whimpering
"You think he's, like, immortal or something?"
>"Don't be retarded."
"Don't be Ableist!"
>"Get the fuck out, I gotta go save people's pets."
>"Daddy i dun wike dis fweind..."
 
>After another joyous talk with the receptionist, and a perfectly reasonable fee, you and Skittles arrive back home
>He can't wait to see George again
>By the time you open the door his fluff has dried and he seems to understand what you did was an accident
>He still seemed a bit more wary, though, he might be a bit scarred
>As soon as you get in, he starts wiggling his hooves mindlessly toward the living room
>You take him there and he catches up with george
>"Geowge! Geowge! Skittows missed yow sooo much!"
>He doesn't even check for a reaction before the huggies start
>You crouch down to see them better
"You miss george?"
>He turns his head to you and nods yes furiously
>"Daddy why did we go to dat scawy pwace?"
>He doesn't even remember what happened
>You don't know if you should baww, daww, or be thankful
"Daddy tried to make you drink some water, but I didn't think too far ahead and I screwed up."
>"But Skittows was thowsty!"
"I know, but I should have fed you from one of these special bottles, see? Daddy made a huge mistake, and he almost killed you."
>Skittles coughs up some water on George
>"Skittows is sowwy, wat did skittows do?"
>He lacks the capacity to understand the idea of authority figures making mistakes
 
"Skit, you didn't do anything, it was an accident."
>"Assadint?"
>Fuck it
"You still thirsty?
>"Skittows hungies and thowsties."
>Pick up Skittles and take him to the kitchen, he still has george hanging out of his snout
>Feed him from his new bottle
>He dubs it a "nummy-bub"
 
-END-