Pinkie Pie's Exotic Pet

by Ponyess

Rating: teen
Tags: Pinkie Pie, Twilight Sparkle, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Human, Other, Comedy
Length: 1133

I had decided to get a new pet, exotic and helpful, as opposed to the ever fun Gator I already have. Not that I am envious of Twilight, but her Owl helps her in her daily tasks in ways my bet never could. With that I set out and found the girl.

I wanted a new pet, exotic like a Human Girl. I had asked Twilight to help me with the mandatory changes in order for her to conform to the life in Ponyville.

Then I had managed to find her, the girl where she had no hope, so I pulled her back to the village with me. Twilight was true to her words, now my new pet is finally mine.

Raising an exotic pet comes at a price, I had to follow strict rules. I had to raise her to fit in, within the Community of Ponyville, Equestria.

She would need hooves, tail and a name, aside from a collar she was to wear at all times. I’ll have to care for her, of course.

Published 2015-09-08 18:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2015-09-08 18:30:01 UTC

Pink Episode: 1

Author's Note

Pet's POV

Pink Episode: 1

I was woken up by stray reflections from hoards of blue and yellow balloons covering the ceiling as if it had been an ocean; hitting my face. Celestia had apparently just pulled her sun up on the sky. Looking around I notice a few brave pink balloons scurrying back in to the safety under Pinkie Pie’s bed.

Once I had managed to blink more of the sleep out of my eyes I realised that I still wear the top and skirt Pinkie had granted me as I had followed her to her home as a part of the adoption process. This is all new to me. I now live in the village of Ponyville in the middle of a land known as Equestria, ruled by Princess Celestia who apparently raises the sun each day, and her younger sister, Princess Luna, who is in turn raising the moon each night.

The abrupt contrast from the land of pity-full despair, and the candy coloured Ponies in a bright light of joy is almost too deep for me to grasp. I will have some problem grasping this new development. Besides, here I am an exotic pet, not a woe full girl you spit on and kick down at.

I carefully fold the quilt up towards the wall before I slide my feet down off of the bed, only to find the floor several feet down there under me. Now I fold the quilt back into place, smoothing it over in order to make it look neat.

As I look down I find my green hooves. Then I lift my hands up, only to see the delicate changes her friend known as Twilight Sparkle had granted me. Where my fingers had previously ended in badly managed nails, I now have miniature hooves otherwise identical to my hind hooves. Sensitive to the touch and hard front, just like all equines hooves are.

With care, I then slipped my tail out, critically looking it over. In surprise I noticed it was exactly the way I vaguely recall from the previous day. Not sure if this was the old dream, the fantasy I had been maintaining the best I could, for all these many a year.

Once I slide down and hit the floor, I hear a very different and unexpected sound; that of a Pony’s hooves, just more to the noise of a rubber toy hitting the floor. Confused, I stand up, looking around. Carefully. Had I startled anyone, or was that any Pony now? The words came back to me in a blur. I am not yet accustomed to the Equestrian dialect of the local village of Ponyville, but I guess it will come to me in time. In a way, it is like moving from one community to the next. Words and pronunciations had these curious difference, the distinctions that made others involuntarily laugh before they realised it.

All of a sudden, I felt self-conscious about walking on my hind hooves. As if I had never been walking upright in a bipedal stance before. Of course, I had been walking on my feet, but with no tail to aid my balance back then. I have no idea as to exactly how the new place changed anything for me.

On the other hoof, why would anything actually truly change? Aside from the fact that Pinkie Pie was now my legal guardian. I may be her pet, but I felt more secure in seeing her as a parent; since that is a concept and a situation I was accustomed to. Bypassing all the new and unfamiliar.

Of course, she had promised me to look out for me. I felt it as if she meant it, she will look out for me. If she is a Parent; or a Mother, it is natural for her to do that. Or, it is the way they had taught me in school, all these years back. That is a past, to which I had no interest to return. I do not want to rekindle the feelings associated to it.

With my bed made, I could continue, but alone, I have no idea as to where to go or what to do. I will have to rely on the Pony who liberated me, from where I had been.

Strangely; the collar she had given me is still in place, even though I can barely feel it, unless I lift my hands up to my neck in order to explore it.

All of a sudden, the door goes up and Pinkie Pie bounces into the room. I can see the characteristic smile on her face. Her deep pink mane tightly curled up in a sign of the joy. She is truly the element of laughter.

“Finally. You are awake. I expect you to be hungry!” she merely exclaimed in a giggle.

“Yeah. I am always hungry!” I responded, looking up at her.

“Good. Now I have the cure for that little problem. These should stuff your cute little tummy!” she pointed out as she placed a large bowl of Muffins on her desk by the window opposing the door.

Of course she also had a pitcher of milk for me. I guess she knew I need something nutritious to drink. Just that I can’t even spell the word. School never was my thing. They never gave me reason to care, as if that would never really do me any good in the first place.

“My little girl should never have to go hungry. I hope these are to your taste!” she pointed out.

I pick up the first Muffin and take a tentative bite, before I started to eat, only to realise that I enjoy the taste. It is fresh, almost newly baked, even if it is from the stash they did not expect to sell, due to being left over from the previous day. Apparently, the café has a very high standard. The Ponies of Ponyville are doing very well for themselves. Doing well is something I am not familiar with. I had never really done well for myself, or done well by just about any standard, where I came from.

In the end, I had chewed down every last Muffin, but she had made it clear that they were for me. I had also gulped down all the milk she brought me. The liquid had a strange and unfamiliar flavour to it. I never had the fortune to drink anything this fresh, not in the time I could recall. Maybe I had pushed the memories out, but shouldn’t I still remember something like this?

“I love your Muffins. They are yummy!” I exclaimed.