It was time to get a little work done, but not just any work—this was, perhaps, the best work, it was time to help Boulder. It was time to indulge in their shared secret hobby. Maud sat down at her wooden roll-top desk, rolled up the cover, and pulled Boulder out from his pocket in her smock.
“Today, we become ‘Dear Aggy.’ Are you ready, Boulder?” While she spoke, she plunked Boulder down upon the desk. “It’s like being a superhero, but it can be done with a pen and a bit of free time.”
Years ago, when this had started, Maud had thought it a foolish venture, but she was glad that she had listened to Boulder’s idea. Maud’s pet rock had a hobby, a mission, a burning passion that he needed her assistance with. Boulder gave advice to the lovelorn, those confused in love, and even those love-weary. Her pet rock had become Dear Aggy, and she functioned as his writer, his translator, his dutiful assistant.
Of course, she also offered her own advice, mixed in with his.
“What’s that, Boulder?” Maud asked, tilting her head so that she might listen to her pet rock better. “No, I didn’t forget the mailbag. It’s right here. Boulder, do you need glasses? Are you getting old?”
The stone did not reply, perhaps indignant from the remark about his age.
The mailbag was rather full, filled with about twenty pounds of letters. Maud was determined to sort through them all, find the good ones, and write out Boulder’s answers to them all. These replies would get sent off to the newspaper office, would be printed, the readers would read, and matters of love would be straightened out. Dear Aggy would come to the rescue.
Opening the sack, Maud found a letter poking out that didn’t have a stamp. That was curious. One eyebrow raised, a measurement of micrometres, something almost invisible to the common equine eye. With her hoof, she pulled it out, held it up, sniffed it, and then tore it open with her teeth. Inhaling, she then blew into the opened envelope, spreading it, and then she shook the letter out. It fluttered down like a downed drunk butterfly, and flopped on the wooden surface of her desk.
Using her hoof, she unfolded the letter and pressed it out flat on her desk. It read:
Dear Aggy,
Long time reader, first time letter-sender. I’m a big fan with an even bigger conundrum that I was hoping that you could help me with. You see, I really love my wife, she’s also my best friend, and my teacher too. Because of her, I graduated Summa Cum Maud, and I can make her Summa Cum Loud. She’s a really awesome wife, and she loves puns. She’s adventurous, both in and out of the bedroom.
She is also a really hot wife, she’s amazing, she really is, and there is something I want to tell her, but I don’t know how to say it. You see, when she’s pregnant, her backside gets big, and she gets these big jiggly thighs, and she looks amazing.
But how does one say all of this without getting trampled? Is there a proper way to tell your wife that yes, her butt looks big? That you like a yard of plot? Is there a way of communicating this without sounding like a big-booty loving deviant? I’m worried, I don’t want my wife thinking I’m shallow minded. I try to respect her body. I try to be a good husband.
I’m conflicted, I want to tell her how I feel, but I’m scared and worried about saying something. So how do I go about telling her this without sounding like a pervert, or hurting her feelings, or generally ending my marriage?
Sincerely,
Mister Coffee Pot.
Maud’s eyes narrowed, and she read the letter once more, this time in silence, to herself. Afterwards, she lifted her head, licked her lips in a shocking display of reaction, and then focused her intense gaze upon Boulder, who sat on her desk. Reaching out her hoof, she gave her pet rock an affectionate caress.
“Wait a minute, I know this writing, and I have a sneaking suspicion about this Mister Coffee Pot fellow. Hang on, Boulder, I have to go and answer this one face to face. Excuse me, but I have to go and sort somepony out. These puns are untenable and unforgivable.” Rising from her chair, Maud stretched her legs, adjusted her smock, and then departed the room, leaving Boulder on the desk guarding the letter.
About one hour and much barnyard noises later…
Maud, her mane a little curly, and still a little damp from her shower, returned to her desk, to find Boulder right where she had left him. A smile, invisible to most, could be seen upon her muzzle, and when she sat down, she did so gingerly, as if she was sore or just worn out back there. She sighed, a satisfied, happy sound, and got herself settled so she could return to work.
“Sorry about that, Boulder… things got out of hoof,” Maud deadpanned. “I had to percolate Mister Coffee Pot and make him boil over. It was great. Now that he’s sorted out, I can get back to work. Let’s check out the next letter, shall we?”
Reaching down, Maud jammed her hoof into the mail sack in a manner reminiscent of a bear reaching into a honey tree. For a brief second, her tongue poked out in concentration, and she made a faint hiss when her backside pressed up against the hard edge of the chair. One leg twitched, her muscles quivering beneath the coarse fabric of her smock, and she pulled out a letter in a pale blue envelope.
With a sleepy, bored expression, Maud went through the routine of opening it, and then shook the letter out onto the desk. There were a few thumps as she unfolded it, smoothed it out, and made it lay flat. Right away, the letters on this one stood out, the script was a little messy, as if it had been written by a foal. It was also loopy, a bit doodly, and there was a distinct feminine touch to it, to those who knew how to see such things.
Dear Aggy,
I wrote this all by myself, without my mother’s help. I even left the house on my own to take it to the mailbox, so I really hope you’ll read it and reply to it. It’s tough to leave the house, because I’m shy. You can refer to me as Canary. I’m sorry, I know it is a lousy name, but it was just the first thing that came to mind.
This is all really tough, and I don’t know how to say all of this. I am the only one of my kind in Ponyville. I am alone. All of my friends are growing up, and some of them are getting flirty with each other. There’s a lot of flirting. So much flirting. And snogging. Yes, there is a lot of snogging. And I can’t snog, even though I want to, because, reasons.
But I’m watching all of my friends as they’re starting to flirt and play with one another, and it makes me feel really lonely. I want to do what they’re doing. I want to be flirty. But there is no one else like me, and I am all alone. It’s made me really depressed, and when I get depressed, I start binge eating. It’s made me a little chubby.
No, to be honest, it’s made me fat. Well, my mother says I’m chubby and my father, he refuses to answer me when I ask him, but I think I’m fat. And now that I’m fat, I feel even worse. When I feel lonely, I eat, when I eat, I get fat, when I get fatter, I feel guilty, and then I feel like I’m too fat to be loved, and then I feel even more alone. So I keep eating and this feels like a never-ending cycle.
How do I fix this?
I just want to loved.
Sincerely,
A Canary in search of somebirdy to sing with.
Reaching out, Maud picked up Boulder and pulled him to her barrel. She blinked a few times, feeling very much like her namesake, Maudlin. With Boulder pressed against her, she rubbed him, and thought about the letter. She wasn’t certain that she could answer this letter, and she hoped that Boulder had something, because she didn’t.
“What’s that, Boulder? You say she should seek the help of Princess Cadance?” Maud nodded, and one ear twitched as she listened to her pet rock. “I agree.”
Maud went silent and stared down at the letter, her eyes moving at a glacial pace from side to side as she read it once more. She still held Boulder, and stroked him, feeling his exquisite, comforting smoothness against her frog. In Maud’s embrace, Boulder purred, but it was more of a geological hum, a sound that only Maud could hear.
“You’re right, Boulder, we can’t put this one in the paper,” Maud said to her pet rock. “We can’t ignore it, either. I think I’m going to have to deal with this in pony, and hope that Silver Lining will keep our secret. She’s a good girl, Boulder, she deserves better than this.”
During a long silence, Maud’s ears perked, and she nodded. “Yes Boulder, I know, Pebble also struggles with emotional-overeating. What do you mean, you have an idea? Wait, are you telling me that they should seek help together and form a support group? That’s a brilliant idea, Boulder. Thank you.”
Leaning back in her chair, Maud heaved a troubled sigh and stared at the letter. She blinked once, twice, and then her head bobbed up and down while she continued to hug Boulder while hanging upon his every word.
“Why, yes Boulder, I think I might have to call in some backup on this one. That’s what sisters are for, right?”
Leaning over, Maud reached into the mailbag to fish out another letter, this time with the hopes that it was one to which she could write out a long, satisfying response. She had a brain itch that needed scratching, and Boulder was in dire need of a little intellectual stimulation himself. She treasured these collaborations between her and her pet rock, these tender moments of togetherness most of all.
“Here we go,” Maud said to Boulder as she pulled out a bone-white envelope. “This one has a lovesick feel to it, Boulder, wouldn’t you agree? I have a good feeling about this one, let’s open it up, shall we?”