> Fluttershy Kicks a Puppy > by bats > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > How Could You? > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Fluttershy tore off the end of the gauze with her teeth and finished wrapping the squirrel’s leg. “There you go, little one,” she cooed, patting the critter on the head. “Isn’t that better?” The squirrel flexed its bandaged foreleg and grinned. Leaping up, it hugged the mare around her neck, nuzzling her face with a furry cheek. Fluttershy giggled and waved as it scampered back into the trees. Dropping the bandage roll back in her first-aid kit, she perked her head up and scanned the park, searching out any other wounded animals in need of help. Golden sunlight dappled through the thin canopy of expertly pruned trees. The smell of fresh-cut sod and evaporating dew filled the park with a spellbinding distillation of early summer. Fluttershy smiled broadly, caught up in the seasonal magic. She loved autumn’s rich red and gold palette, winter’s muffled and crisp introspective white, and spring’s vibrant greens of new life, but summer was her true passion of warm golds and earthy greens. A season of activity for her furry friends: the big city bustle time that all wildlife took part in. Fluttershy was in her element. Finding no more patients in need of assistance, the mare took another long breath of the sweet air and grabbed her pack. As she lifted the first-aid kit in her mouth, something hit her back leg with a soft thump. A soccer ball drifted half a foot back from where it struck, shiny and grass-stained in the afternoon sun. A group of ten colts and fillies waved at Fluttershy from the open field several yards away, chagrined smiles on their faces. Disheveled manes and dirtied coats matched their displaced ball. A chestnut-colored colt cupped his hooves around his muzzle and called out, “Sorry! Little help?” “Yes of course!” Fluttershy chimed, far too quietly to be heard by the foals. She set down her medical supplies on the grass and lined up to kick the ball over to the group. Not a pony for sports, she frowned in concentration, dead-set on a clean and well-aimed strike. It would be embarrassing for the ball to go wide, or fall too short. They were just foals, but their derisive laughter would be awful. She suppressed a shudder, willing the echoing chant of, “Fluttershy, Fluttershy, Fluttershy can hardly fly,” from her head. Those fears had been conquered. Resolutely, she swept a foreleg back. The high-pitched yaps came too late. Chasing after a worn and bitten tennis ball, a shaggy golden retriever puppy, barely larger than a cat, bounded in front of Fluttershy’s accelerating hoof. The mare’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open in shock, her pistoning leg not responding to her frantic mental commands to stop. Her blood ran cold as her hoof connected to the puppy’s rib cage. With a yelp of surprise, the dog was lifted from his paws. To Fluttershy’s horror, her leg continued on its trajectory, sweeping the dog into the soccer ball. For a moment, the puppy was suspended in mid-air before her face, his tongue lolling from his open jaw, eyes wide with confusion, shaggy blonde fur splayed out in the breeze. Time froze in that instant as waves of regret crashed around the quiet pegasus. The dog was just a baby, innocent to the world and its cruel jeers. Nopony had ever called him worthless, she suspected. Nopony accused him of wasting time with fears, or making a big deal out of nothing. A fresh-faced babe with his whole life ahead of him, full of hope and wonder. And she, Fluttershy, a mare dedicated to helping all life, had taken that innocence and kicked it. With a whine, the poor beast landed four feet in front of her, rolling to a stop. A mewling whimper punctuated his breathing, tongue still hanging from his mouth. His eyes regarded Fluttershy with dazed surprise. Fluttershy, so intuitive and empathetic with animals, could read a thousand thoughts in those watery orbs. Pain was clearest; she hadn’t wounded the critter critically, but he was suffering. Possibly for the first real time in his short life. Next she saw confusion. The poor dog didn’t fully comprehend what had caused his predicament and was still processing what had happened. Below that was the worst thing. Fluttershy saw the betrayal. His was the same look in the eyes of a foal when he discovers for the first time that an adult has lied to him. The death of innocence. The soccer ball, thrown clear from the momentum of the kick, rolled listlessly back to the wide eyed foals. Frozen in place, the soccer players felt the joy of the game bleed out of their bodies. The noises of the park fell away for them; the bird calls, the chirping insects, the distant laughter, all muted by the unfolding horror. Sound came back all at once when a frost blue-coated filly shouted, “How could you!” with a wavering trill of threatening tears on her voice. Fluttershy started, scanning the group of soccer players. Jaws hung down in abject shock, angry and wet eyes trained squarely on the timid mare. Their voices wove together in a tapestry of hate. “That poor puppy! What did it ever do to you?” “Somepony help that dog!” “That evil mare kicked that puppy!” “How could anypony kick a puppy?” The words crowded around Fluttershy as if given physical substance, bearing down on her mind. Knees shaking, she grabbed her first aid kit and hurried to the fallen dog, but the foals rushed her and blocked off her path. She shrunk back a step as their tones shifted from reproach to rage. “You stay away from that poor puppy!” Fluttershy, her voice devoid of any power, squeaked out, “Um, excuse me, but I treat animals and—” “Haven’t you done enough damage?” a mint-green unicorn filly yelled, drowning her out. “It was an accident and I can help—” “Just get out of here!” Fluttershy’s voice grew more and more falsetto as the tirade continued, and she quaked under the accusatory stares. Their voices grew angrier still, tearing and biting at the mare’s psyche. She struggled to push through to the dog, but the force of their presence held her back. Mentally, they were joined by the cajoling taunts of her past; a dozen classmates calling out her weak wings and lack of confidence. All at once, her nerve broke. Anger and cruel laughter plaguing her mind, she fled from the jeers and stares. Galloping hard along the cobbled path through the park, she blinked the tears from her eyes as best she could. She charged through downtown Ponyville, chased by the ghosts of both her past and her present. Beads of moisture sprung from her eyes to trail behind her in glittering specks as she weaved through the busy market and past town hall. Her vision blurred past the point of easy discernment, but she continued to race down the dirt road leading to her cottage, relying more on memory than sight. Finally, after far too long, the hazy smudge of her home loomed into her partially impaired view. Breathing hard, she flung the door to her house wide, bolted inside, and slammed it shut with the full weight of her body. Blinking furiously, chest heaving like a massive bellows, she slid inch by inch down the door. Midway down, her hindlegs gave out and she collapsed to the floor. The first aid kit in her jaw mocked her. With a loud shriek, she sent it sailing across the room. She curled up in a ball to cover her face and trembled with shame. “Oh no!” she cried into her hooves. “What did I do?!” She sobbed softly, rocking back and forth on the bare wood floorboards. “What did I do, what did I do, what did I do?” A soft, furry tap to her knee pulled her back to reality. She sniffled wetly and rubbed at her face with both forelegs, peeking a bleary eye out into the cruel world. Angel stared at her expectantly, his head cocked so far sideways that one floppy ear rested on his shoulder. She sniffed her snout clear and shakily sat up. “Hi Angel,” she said miserably. “What’s the matter?” The little bunny shrugged his shoulders and tapped on her belly. “Oh, you’re hungry?” She started to pull herself up until Angel shook his head emphatically. “No?” He grabbed her hoof with his tiny paws and gave her a big-eyed stare. Fluttershy’s ears flattened. “Oh…you wanna know what’s wrong with me…” She laid back down on the floor, staring off into space. “Nothing’s wrong…” Angel hugged himself to her chest, nuzzling her with a whiskery cheek. “Nothing’s wrong except I…I…” She bit back a sob, tears running from her eyes. “I kicked a poor little puppy!” She covered her face again, curling around the little rabbit. She wrapped her tail around herself and whimpered. Time passed at a crawl. Eventually, Fluttershy’s eyes dried and her quivering ceased, leaving her motionless and staring off into space. She thoughtlessly tracked dust motes sailing through sunbeams, an all-encompassing lethargy gripping her limbs and pinning her down. Uncomprehending of the passage of time, Fluttershy only became aware of her surroundings as her body’s complaints slowly sliced through her cloudy mind. Her hip and shoulder throbbed dully, pinned against the unforgiving floor. Her throat, already complaining from the frantic run, felt cracked and rough. She swallowed dryly to keep it from gluing itself shut. The need to relieve herself crept slowly up from minor annoyance to mounting urgency. Fluttershy slowly stood. At some point during her exile from conscious thought, Angel had rolled himself into a ball and fallen asleep against her belly. She moved carefully to not disturb him, stepping silently over his snoring body and skittering down the hall to her restroom. Empty bladder and full glass of water in tow, Fluttershy silently wandered through her living room. Assorted supplies for animal care, covering every conceivable inch throughout the cozy space, kept arresting her attention. Gilded bird cages. Carpeted climbs for cats to scratch. Plastic tubes for hamsters or ferrets to scurry through. Bags of feed, bags of sawdust, bags of bedding. There was no way for her to deny the truth: Fluttershy lived in a fully stocked pet store. She sighed and climbed onto the couch, sipping her water. She felt empty. Scanning the room, all she could find were reminders of her animal friends. When she felt down, Fluttershy would take refuge in her work, tending her menagerie and helping the wild creatures that always found their way to her doorstep. Sometimes they weren’t even hurt, just looking for a kind ear and a hug. Fluttershy loved to provide hugs. The mare’s mind began to wander. She often found herself reflecting on her life and experiences with other ponies. Ponies weren’t like animals. With animals, Fluttershy always knew what to do, whether it was dressing a wound or settling a dispute. Even temperamental critters, from irate cockatrices to rampaging dragons, fell to her force of will. But ponies couldn’t be controlled like that. Ponies didn’t listen and Fluttershy spent most of her life in fear of others. She never knew what to say, or where to put her hooves. When she made eye-contact, her voice wavered and her joints trembled. She was afraid of their laughter and their anger, but she was also afraid of their compliments. It was all a form of attention, and in the spotlight of another pony’s gaze, Fluttershy didn’t know what to do with herself. Thinking about it made her anxious. Most things having to do with ponies made her anxious. With ponies, she was out of her element. So, she would escape. Her animals didn’t judge her the way ponies did. When they directed attention at her, she didn’t quiver. They had been her salvation all those years ago when she fell from the sky—her true calling, her destiny. When the world of ponies got to be too much, she would turn to the critters. In social situations she’d reminisce and escape, if only in her mind. Setting the empty glass carefully on the floor, Fluttershy laid down on the couch and hid behind her mane and hooves, blocking out the room. How was she supposed to escape, when everything to do with animals reminded her of the puppy? The rays of golden sunlight moved across the floor. Fluttershy laid in a complete stupor as the world passed her by. With a languid stretch, Angel woke up and hopped over to the couch. “Not now, Angel,” Fluttershy sighed, rolling away from his poking paws. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He hopped onto the couch and prodded her more forcefully. She sighed again. Reluctantly, she rolled back over and faced the little rabbit. “It’s that puppy, Angel. I didn’t mean to kick him; I was trying to kick a soccer ball back to some foals. He jumped in the way and next thing I knew, I—” her voice hitched, forcing her to swallow thickly, “—Oh, it was so sad! I didn’t mean to hurt him, I really didn’t.” Angel nodded solemnly and patted a hoof in consolation. “And all those foals! They were terrible; I couldn’t even look at the little dear to make sure he was okay!” Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Angel shrugged and raised an eyebrow. Fluttershy sat up and gave the bunny a reproachful look. “Well of course I tried! They wouldn’t let me through. They just kept yelling at me.” Angel blinked at her. “…I guess you’re right. They were just foals. I should have been more forceful…” A floppy ear twitched. Fluttershy nodded with resignation. “That’s exactly right, Angel. They got loud and I got quiet...and next thing I knew...” She inhaled deeply through her snout, closing her eyes. Slowly, she released the held breath and fixed her gaze on the rabbit. “...I was back in Flight School.” She pinched the bridge of her muzzle with both hooves and rubbed her face vigorously. “It’s not fair, Angel. I thought I’d gotten over this.” Angel cocked his head to the side. “Yeah,” she agreed miserably, “I guess some things you never get over all the way. I wish I knew what to do now.” Twitching his pink nose, the bunny gestured to the door. Fluttershy’s wavery eyes hardened and she sat up straight and tall. “You’re right, Angel! Just because my fears got the better of me doesn’t mean I have to give up! It’ll always be a problem, but that’s not what this is about. It’s about how I deal with the problem!” She puffed out her chest and leapt from the couch. “I just have to march myself back to that park and check on that puppy. It’s the right thing to do and it’s what I was born to do!” Hefting the discarded first-aid kit off the floor, she continued, “Everypony makes mistakes. That doesn’t ruin who somepony is. It’s what they do to fix those mistakes that defines character!” She lifted a hoof triumphantly, shaking it at the cruel world. She turned a radiant smile towards the puffy rabbit. “Thank you, Angel. You always know just what to say.” Angel bounced on the couch twice. “Of course you can! Hold on.” She trotted into the kitchen, humming gently to herself. She grabbed a knife from the woodblock and a cucumber from the pantry, slicing it quickly onto a plate. She plopped the plate onto the floor and cantered out of her cottage as Angel hopped to his meal and gobbled it down greedily. Fluttershy held her head high as she trotted along the road. The late afternoon air held promises of strengthening growth and the pegasus found a bounce had entered her gait. She hummed merrily, swarms of butterflies racing through her memories. She made her way back through Ponyville, torn between enjoying the scenery and getting back to the park and checking on the dog. When she arrived, she found the group of foals were still gathered around the puppy, blocking it from view. Fluttershy approached cautiously, nerves settling back over her frame causing her heart to race and her hooves to tremor. She quelled her rising fear and cleared her throat. Ten heads swiveled, expressions shifting from curiosity to animosity as they regarded the pegasus. The chestnut colt opened his mouth, but Fluttershy spoke first, injecting confidence into her voice. “I know you’re angry at me, but what happened was an accident. I take care of animals; I was here at the park to treat some of the wild ones when this happened. Let me through, so I can help the poor thing.” The colt looked mutinous. Standing with hackles raised, he started to advance when the mint-green filly caught his shoulder. “She was just kicking our ball back.” “But—” Fluttershy strode past the two foals and knelt down over the puppy. The dog immediately recognized her and whimpered. “Shh,” she cooed, “It’s okay. Let’s take a look at you little guy.” He quieted down and Fluttershy pressed a hoof to his muzzle. She felt around his ribcage and checked his heart rate. It became apparent very quickly that after the surprise wore off, the dog started milking his injuries for attention. His side was a little tender, but no worse than a bruise. His cold, wet nose and gentle heartbeat told the story clear as day. “Oh, you little faker,” she teased. Opening up her kit, she pulled out a dog biscuit. “Here you go, sweetie. A treat if you jump for it!” The puppy sprung to his paws, lunging for the cookie. His shaggy blonde tail wagging excitedly, he bore down on his front legs, rump wiggling in the air. Fluttershy giggled and tossed the biscuit. Flashing into the air, the puppy snapped it up and crunched away happily. “He’s okay!” The foals cheered together and crowded around the dog, petting his head and scratching behind his ears. Grinning, Fluttershy picked up her kit and turned to leave. The chestnut colt stood behind her, his ears flat to his head and eyes downcast. “…I’m sorry, ma’am.” Fluttershy shuffled awkwardly. “It’s okay…I love animals, too. I’d be angry if I thought somepony was mistreating one on purpose.” He looked at her hopefully. “No hard feelings?” She smiled warmly and extended a hoof. He shook it and beamed. A small whine brought Fluttershy’s attention back to the puppy. The other foals had begun playing with the puppy using their soccer ball and after several tosses the dog had begun breathing hard. Fluttershy frowned and reopened her kit. She rooted around and found a small bottle of painkillers. “C’mere little one.” Limping slightly, the puppy came over and sat, wagging his tail idly. She pulled off the cap with her teeth and dropped a pill onto her hoof. “This’ll make you feel all better.” The dog eyed the pill warily. “Go on; it’s medicine.” A pink tongue darted out and slurped the white speck away. “There you go…” Reared up on its hindlegs, the puppy lapped at her cheek and she giggled. “Oh, you are just such a sweetie.” She frowned, scanning the park. “Whose are you, anyway, fella?” She scratched behind his ears. The chestnut colt cleared his throat. “He’s, uh, mine. His name’s Copper.” “Copper, huh? Oh, such a nice little doggie you are, Copper.” She turned her head and smiled at the colt. “I’m awfully sorry I kicked your puppy. It really was an accident.” “I know,” he sighed, looking down at his hooves. “I shoulda been keeping a better eye on him. I just got so wrapped up in the game I didn’t notice when he wandered off.” His blue eyes were trained on the grass, partially hidden under his dark brown mane. “When I saw what happened…I was angry at myself too. I took it out on you.” Fluttershy gave Copper one last pet, flopping his ears back and forth, and turned all the way to face the colt. “What’s your name?” “Fetch.” “Well, Fetch…” Fluttershy swept her mane away from her face and offered the colt a knowing grin. “Everypony makes mistakes sometimes. If we didn’t, we’d never learn anything. But that doesn’t ruin who somepony is. It’s not that you made a mistake…” She lifted his head with a hoof. “It’s how you deal with the mistake that says the most about you.” She turned and looked at Copper. The medicine had already kicked in and he was back on his paws, rambunctiously chasing the other nine foals as they kicked the soccer ball back and forth. He barked with excitement, diving on the ball when it came close, making it bounce away between his legs in a random direction. “Copper’s gonna be fine, so don’t you worry.” Fetch grinned, wiping at his muzzle with a hoof. “Thank you, ma’am. For coming back and looking at him.” Fluttershy smirked, mischief glittering in her eyes. “As I said, everypony makes mistakes and it’s how you deal with them that says the most about you.” Fetch chuckled and ran back to the discordant game of soccer. Fluttershy sat on her haunches and watched for a few minutes, feeling the weight that had settled on her heart melt completely away. Copper had responded well to her immediately. The foals had given her a chance and she had made things right. In the end, they had given her their thanks and let her be. No eyes on her to make her feel anxious, no derisive laughter, no glares, no hate. When she closed her eyes, she saw the puppy reared up tall to lick her face. The squirrel nuzzling her cheek. Angel hugging her chest. Her fears and worries quietly crept away and locked themselves in the back of her mind. It was summer. Animals flourished in the warmth: a time of activity, a time of exploration, a time of growth. Spring was a time for newness, but summer was a time for strengthening. Fluttershy was in her element. She opened her eyes when she felt a tap at her hoof. The soccer ball, leapt upon by Copper, had shot free of the foals and skidded over to her sitting place. Fetch smiled warmly at her, holding onto the excited puppy. Fluttershy grinned and stood up. She cocked her leg back. The ball fired straight and true from her kick. Fetch’s eyes went wide as it approached, far faster and higher than either he or Fluttershy had expected. Too late, he tried to raise his forelegs to block. Smashing into his muzzle, the ball rebounded sharply to the right and into the left eye of the mint-green filly. As Fetch fell, clutching his red-streaming snout, the ball ricocheted into another foal, directly in the ear. The green filly began to rub at her darkening eye as the ball continued its reign of destruction, bouncing sharply off of jaws, snouts, necks, and knees. Defying the laws of physics, the ball picked up speed as it bounced from one player to the next. The park filled with surprised yelps. Fluttershy stared in horror. Half the foals were down, grasping their bruised and battered faces and moaning wretchedly. Tears and blood streamed from faces, purpled and swollen snouts wiped at miserably. The hitching whine of surprised crying covered the groans from the smallest filly, rubbing at her cuffed ear. The other half of the players, mystified by their good fortune at avoiding the bouncing sphere of pain, stared back at her numbly. The groans of their friends at their hooves gradually cut through the daze, and their eyes slowly narrowed from shock to anger. Fluttershy, jaw slack and eyes wide, glanced from one fuming face to the next, then down at the fallen fillies and colts nursing their wounds. Her eyes trailed to the grass- and blood-stained ball, resting where it had rolled listlessly away from the group. Copper yapped and pounced on it again. Fetch sat up slowly, his eyes puffy red. His voice, made unnaturally nasal by his mashed muzzle, was filled with hurt and betrayal; the voice of a foal discovering for the first time that an adult had lied to him. The death of innocence. “How could you?” Fluttershy screamed in anguish and ran.