FA+
Shop
312
Views
Views
1
Favorites
Favorites
Category
Story / Human
Species Canine (Other)
Size 120 x 120
File Size 4.7 kB
Report this content
More from marked
My third entry for 
furwritersguild's Thursday writing prompts. This one is a little late. Check them out anyway here. http://www.anthroaquatic.com/forum/.....hp?topic=277.0
May scrap later, but I think I will reuse this idea in a longer story.
Martha held her two day old child on the hospital bed as she napped. The new mother rocked slowly, back and forth, back and forth. Her brown eyes were closed, and dried-tear trails stained her rosy cheeks. Her hands, so small and smooth that her husband always said they were like a child's hands, caressed the wispy patches of hair on her newborn's back. She leaned down to give her daughter a kiss on the head, and shuddered as her chin brushed the newborn's large, triangular ears.
Martha's husband, John, saw the shudder and took one of her tiny hands in his. He gave it a squeeze, as if to reassure her, but his face matched hers in consternation. His narrow lips frowned, and his sky-blue eyes were down-cast. Like her, only one question consumed his mind.
The newborn slowly awoke, opening her olive-gold eyes to the world. Her tiny, tiny fingers flexed and she wriggled like any newborn word. After she was born, the doctors did their tests: 3.4 kg, full Apger score, all the reflexes that a newborn would normally have. There was nothing that the doctors could point to say that she was anything but a normal baby.
Except for the ears. And the fluffy tail. And the soft fur that covered her body. And the black speck of a nose. and the half-inch muzzled jaw...
Taken one at a time, these facts could be explained away. Human children were sometimes born with vestigial tails, a sort of hold over from the legacy of evolution. The doctors said that inside our DNA, we still have the programming for the embryonic development of such tails, but they almost always disappear by birth. The soft down hair that grew over seventy percent of her body could be an extreme case of Lanugo, or the development of hair on newborns that was normal and would disappear with age. The jawbone could be some birth-defect, as could the nose and the ears. But taken together all these features pointed to something much different.
She had been born an animal.
Animal isn't quite right though, as she was still mostly human. The shape of her eyes was fine, as was her torso, her arms and her legs. If x-rays were to be believed, her internal organs were perfectly normal for a human as well. Genetic tests had been ordered, naturally, but they wouldn't be complete for another three weeks. She was human, but she could’ve fooled anyone.
The doctors had been flabbergasted of course. No one had ever seen something exactly like this. Usually, such a variety of abnormalities would be a sign of significant genetic or internal defects. One doctor has said she shouldn't even be alive.
The little newborn opened her mouth in a yawn, her stubby pink tongue curling up and around her lips for a brief moment.
"She's adorable," whispered John as his daughter settled down to nap again.
"John..."
"Well she is."
Martha bit her lip. "What are we going to do with her?"
"What do you mean?"
"She... she isn't meant to be this way. It's not normal. Sooner or later it will be a problem."
"It's too early to know that, " said John, "she is fine now, why would that change?"
"The doctors don't know what's going to happen to her," said Martha, her tone rising in panic, "but do you remember what they said about birth-defects. If this is genetic, than anything could happen. What if it screws up her development? Or she gets cancer? Or..."
"We can deal with it when it comes up. She's fine now, no premature birth, no ICU, nothing to indicate she'll get sick."
"She looks like a dog for Christsake… even if she is physically fine, how is she suppose to grow up like this? Go to school like this? Everyone will notice!”
"Maybe she'll grow out of it," said John evenly, his face taking on a pained look.
"You don't know that she will."
"You don't know that she won’t."
"Thats not good enough for me," said Martha, “not for our daughter."
John frowned, "What are you suggesting?"
Martha closed her eyes, still rocking with her infant.
"Surgery... to make her normal."
John looked away "That might be even worse, you’re talking about facial reconstruction, amputation... for what?"
"For the chance for her to be a normal person."
"I don't like it,” John shuddered, “two wrongs don't make a right."
Martha looked up at him from under fresh tears.
"What would you do?"
John closed his eyes. "I think she is this way for a reason. If we change her body now, we’ll never know what she could have been."
The two were quiet for a long time. Wife and husband looked at each other, each struggling with the responsibility. They knew that their daughter would live with their decisions now for the rest of her life.
John let out a soft hollow chuckle "With everything that happened, we forgot to name her. I'd start with that."
Martha smiled for the first time in what seemed like a long time.
furwritersguild's Thursday writing prompts. This one is a little late. Check them out anyway here. http://www.anthroaquatic.com/forum/.....hp?topic=277.0May scrap later, but I think I will reuse this idea in a longer story.
Martha held her two day old child on the hospital bed as she napped. The new mother rocked slowly, back and forth, back and forth. Her brown eyes were closed, and dried-tear trails stained her rosy cheeks. Her hands, so small and smooth that her husband always said they were like a child's hands, caressed the wispy patches of hair on her newborn's back. She leaned down to give her daughter a kiss on the head, and shuddered as her chin brushed the newborn's large, triangular ears.
Martha's husband, John, saw the shudder and took one of her tiny hands in his. He gave it a squeeze, as if to reassure her, but his face matched hers in consternation. His narrow lips frowned, and his sky-blue eyes were down-cast. Like her, only one question consumed his mind.
The newborn slowly awoke, opening her olive-gold eyes to the world. Her tiny, tiny fingers flexed and she wriggled like any newborn word. After she was born, the doctors did their tests: 3.4 kg, full Apger score, all the reflexes that a newborn would normally have. There was nothing that the doctors could point to say that she was anything but a normal baby.
Except for the ears. And the fluffy tail. And the soft fur that covered her body. And the black speck of a nose. and the half-inch muzzled jaw...
Taken one at a time, these facts could be explained away. Human children were sometimes born with vestigial tails, a sort of hold over from the legacy of evolution. The doctors said that inside our DNA, we still have the programming for the embryonic development of such tails, but they almost always disappear by birth. The soft down hair that grew over seventy percent of her body could be an extreme case of Lanugo, or the development of hair on newborns that was normal and would disappear with age. The jawbone could be some birth-defect, as could the nose and the ears. But taken together all these features pointed to something much different.
She had been born an animal.
Animal isn't quite right though, as she was still mostly human. The shape of her eyes was fine, as was her torso, her arms and her legs. If x-rays were to be believed, her internal organs were perfectly normal for a human as well. Genetic tests had been ordered, naturally, but they wouldn't be complete for another three weeks. She was human, but she could’ve fooled anyone.
The doctors had been flabbergasted of course. No one had ever seen something exactly like this. Usually, such a variety of abnormalities would be a sign of significant genetic or internal defects. One doctor has said she shouldn't even be alive.
The little newborn opened her mouth in a yawn, her stubby pink tongue curling up and around her lips for a brief moment.
"She's adorable," whispered John as his daughter settled down to nap again.
"John..."
"Well she is."
Martha bit her lip. "What are we going to do with her?"
"What do you mean?"
"She... she isn't meant to be this way. It's not normal. Sooner or later it will be a problem."
"It's too early to know that, " said John, "she is fine now, why would that change?"
"The doctors don't know what's going to happen to her," said Martha, her tone rising in panic, "but do you remember what they said about birth-defects. If this is genetic, than anything could happen. What if it screws up her development? Or she gets cancer? Or..."
"We can deal with it when it comes up. She's fine now, no premature birth, no ICU, nothing to indicate she'll get sick."
"She looks like a dog for Christsake… even if she is physically fine, how is she suppose to grow up like this? Go to school like this? Everyone will notice!”
"Maybe she'll grow out of it," said John evenly, his face taking on a pained look.
"You don't know that she will."
"You don't know that she won’t."
"Thats not good enough for me," said Martha, “not for our daughter."
John frowned, "What are you suggesting?"
Martha closed her eyes, still rocking with her infant.
"Surgery... to make her normal."
John looked away "That might be even worse, you’re talking about facial reconstruction, amputation... for what?"
"For the chance for her to be a normal person."
"I don't like it,” John shuddered, “two wrongs don't make a right."
Martha looked up at him from under fresh tears.
"What would you do?"
John closed his eyes. "I think she is this way for a reason. If we change her body now, we’ll never know what she could have been."
The two were quiet for a long time. Wife and husband looked at each other, each struggling with the responsibility. They knew that their daughter would live with their decisions now for the rest of her life.
John let out a soft hollow chuckle "With everything that happened, we forgot to name her. I'd start with that."
Martha smiled for the first time in what seemed like a long time.
Category Story / Human
Species Canine (Other)
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 4.7 kB
A very charming little piece that is equally dialogue-driven and rich in appropriate expository narrative. The issue of discrimination against anthropomorphic animals by the people proper has been done to death by the fandom, but the fact that the story gives the reader very little in the way of indication whether little Miss Jane Doe's appearance is a completely isolated bit of genetic combinatory trickstery or a portent of the dawn of the chimeric neo-species that would, in accordance with the Hollywood tradition, inevitably take over the human world and cause some tardy astronaut to drop down on his knees in front of a half-buried monument and cry.
In the latter case, the story is exceedingly touching for a patient-zero introduction, with the turmoil in the new parents' minds very evident and well-conveyed. And it isn't merely a parental concern - the baser fear of the unknown, the unprecedented, and the knowledge that however they would choose to decide the young girl's fate, the world out there will eventually impose its own way of dealing with the wild cards upon the already inherently troubled child.
The clarion clink of reassurance that the parent's faint consensus at the end brings was genuinely heartwarming.
Thank you for all your entries in the Thursday Prompt project ! I have right in the world to take on a condescending tone where writing is concerned, but as a fastidious reader, I have to say that your works so far have been exposing a very daring creative mind that pushes against new genre and stylistic boundaries with every new entry - a symptom of relentless artistic evolution at work. Whatever the end product of that brainstorming activity may be, it's bound to be something great, bearing the seeds of something greater.
No pressure, though.
In the latter case, the story is exceedingly touching for a patient-zero introduction, with the turmoil in the new parents' minds very evident and well-conveyed. And it isn't merely a parental concern - the baser fear of the unknown, the unprecedented, and the knowledge that however they would choose to decide the young girl's fate, the world out there will eventually impose its own way of dealing with the wild cards upon the already inherently troubled child.
The clarion clink of reassurance that the parent's faint consensus at the end brings was genuinely heartwarming.
Thank you for all your entries in the Thursday Prompt project ! I have right in the world to take on a condescending tone where writing is concerned, but as a fastidious reader, I have to say that your works so far have been exposing a very daring creative mind that pushes against new genre and stylistic boundaries with every new entry - a symptom of relentless artistic evolution at work. Whatever the end product of that brainstorming activity may be, it's bound to be something great, bearing the seeds of something greater.
No pressure, though.
Thank you again for your kind words Astronommy. As always, I feel just a tad embarrassed by your comments though: I have a bad habit of thinking that anything good said about my work is biased in my favor, and thus meaningless. Why, I couldn't tell you. I'll have to take your word that this as well as my other works is objectively good.
I think a really funny/ironic extension of the hypothesis of this story would be: what if a mutant furry child was born to a couple involved with the furry fandom? Sounds like a dream come true on the surface, but what would really happen? Would the parents reject such a mutation when it crossed over from being fantasy into reality? Would they resent their own child for being what they want for themselves? Wouldn't the child want to be a true human just as much as they had once wanted to be something other than what they were? Delightful little questions I say!
I think a really funny/ironic extension of the hypothesis of this story would be: what if a mutant furry child was born to a couple involved with the furry fandom? Sounds like a dream come true on the surface, but what would really happen? Would the parents reject such a mutation when it crossed over from being fantasy into reality? Would they resent their own child for being what they want for themselves? Wouldn't the child want to be a true human just as much as they had once wanted to be something other than what they were? Delightful little questions I say!
Not to sabotage the rainbow factory or anything, but every commentary on your work is biased, except it's not anything more specific than the preferences of the commenting party. That is to say, a creator would be justified in feeding a paranoia about the audience praising the creators' works because of some base, unsavory fetishes that the readers might have rather than because of any "objective" merit, but what kind of life would that be ? Any kind of praise, no matter how flowery, is just a fellow's opinion - biased, slanted, compromised, skewed, misaimed or whatever - but it is a notch in your favour; get enough of those - and you are "objectively" acclaimed and accomplished, even if all the individual votes in your favour are subject to doubt and suspicion. The ways of fame and recognition are hardly fathomable.
And as for the furry child: I'm afraid that no matter how you slice it, it's still a lifetime of grief, complications and difficulties for that family - as if the perfectly ordinary child-rearing wasn't a profoundly troublesome enterprise already. It would be just a lashing of irony for their personal Hell.
And as for the furry child: I'm afraid that no matter how you slice it, it's still a lifetime of grief, complications and difficulties for that family - as if the perfectly ordinary child-rearing wasn't a profoundly troublesome enterprise already. It would be just a lashing of irony for their personal Hell.
Comments