What Ever Happened to Sea Fluffies?

>You are Incog, 'cause Anon is a terrible name
>You're driving home after a pretty tiring day of work; can't wait to get home and play with your sea fluffy, Jaws
>Sea fluffies kick ass: all the fun and interaction of a regular fluffy, but without the worry that it'll escape outside or kill itself on the stairs
>They're even easier to clean up after, you don't know why more people don't own one
>You arrive at your house and walk through the front door, you can already hear Jaws babbling in the other room
"Daddeh hom? Daddadaddadadda-"
>You chuckle a little as you walk into your living room: Jaws is plastered to side of his aquarium that faces the front door, his little pink fins slapping against the glass as his curled purple tail wags excitedly in front of him
"Yes, yes I'm home. Now calm down there, guy. You don't want to break the glass, do you?"
>Jaws sheepishly backs away from the wall, mumbling apologies
>You doubt he could actually break it, you paid a good amount of money for an aquarium that was both large enough for a sea fluffy and could put up with one's abuse, but it always pays to be careful when dealing with fluffies
"And how was your day, Jaws?"
>Jaws begins excitedly regaling you with his adventures in his aquarium; you zone out a bit, it's always the same thing: explored the castle you got for him to sleep in, played with the bubble from the air pump, hid treasure in the treasure chest (mostly aquarium gravel)
>There is one thing different today, however
"-an' Jahs gunna be daddeh!"
>You feel your eyebrow rise in skepticism: Jaws hasn't been around ANY sea fluffies since you got him several months ago; you'd actually been considering getting him a friend, such as an octofluff, for when you left for work
"Are you now?"
"Yes! Jahs tummy aww big an' feew funneh, wike teebee daddas! Jahs gunna hab babbehs, pway wif dem aww da time!"
>You knew you shouldn't have let him watch Fluffy Week on the Discovery Channel
>You look at Jaws' stomach through the glass: there's a slight bulge, but it just looks like he's just got a full stomach; you lightly tap on the spot where Jaws' belly touches the glass, eliciting a few giggles from the purple ball of joy
"I don't think you're a daddy, dude. Have you been eating the gravel again?"
>Jaws indignantly puffs his cheeks
"Nu! Jahs nu ea' dummy wocks, Jahs hab babbehs!"
>Just shake your head: no point arguing with him about it, just got to wait 'til he shits out the rocks and his belly shrinks back down, his poor fluffy memory will do the rest
"Alright, alright. How 'bout you and I watch some TV then?"
>Jaws' practically radiates excitement at that
"YAY! JAWS WAN' WATCH TEEBEE, WEAWN BE GUUD DADDEH FO' BABBEHS!!!"
>As set off in search of your TV remote, you make a mental note to pick up Jaws up a friend this weekend
---
>Next morning, you get a nasty surprise when you go to feed Jaws
"…Daddeh, tummy huwt…"
>Jaws is looking pretty rough: he has dark circles under his eyes and keeps coughing up bubbles; his stomach has swelled up considerably, making him look like he's hiding a misshapen potato just under his fluff
"You're not looking so good, bud. Can I get you anything?"
>Jaws coughs some more as he slowly rubs his belly
"Nee' nummies *cough* fo' babbehs."
"Alright, I'll go get you some food."
>Go find the can of fish flakes, then call into work and let them know you won't be coming in today; your boss isn't too happy, but since he hasn't managed to remove employees' sick days (yet), there's not much he can do about it
>Pour some flakes into the tank and watch as Jaws tries to catch them: he's moving slow, even for a sea fluffy, and his added belly weight seems to be keeping him to the lower half of the tank
>Go get your laptop, type in all Jaws' symptoms into a search engine, hoping it'll turn out to be nothing major: get directed to a few forums, owners asking questions similar to your own
>You're not liking the responses
>The most common conclusion is that it's something called dropsy: a build up of fluid underneath the fluffies skin, which is often just a symptom of a worse problem; the most common solution is putting the afflicted sea fluffy in quarantine so it can't infect other sea fluffies and hope it doesn't die
>Yeah, that's not acceptable; you keep scrolling through comments, looking for alternatives
>Ignoring the more callous responses (such as "have a fish fry"), the only other solution seems to be taking the sea fluffy to a veterinarian that offers services to fish, which are apparently hard to come by
>You go get the yellow pages and start looking for vets: you try calling several, but none have any experience with sea fluffies; the few that don't just say they can't help just tell you to clean the tank and hope for the best
>Jaws has a minor freakout when he sees you pulling out his "sorry bucket", and your attempts to explain to him that its just so you can clean his tank are met with hysterical babbling about not wanting to be a bad fluffy; you finally just get him a dried piece of squid to chew on while you place him in the bucket, the combination of treat and punishment confusing him lasting long enough to let you clean the tank
>As you scrub the inside of the tank throughly, you're overcome by a feeling of helplessness: you have no idea what to do to make Jaws better, there doesn't seem to be anyone willing to help you; the conclusion seems inevitable
>Jaws is going to die
>You shake your head angrily: NO! Can't think like that, can't give up now
>Just have to think: dropsy is a symptom, right? Maybe… maybe if you can catch the other symptoms, watch Jaws really carefully for the next few days, you can figure out what's wrong with him
>Won't be able to keep skipping work though, your sick days aren't unlimited; gonna have to be hypervigilant in your off-hours, get home as soon as possible
>Your social life might have to take a plunge for a bit, but it'll be worth it to keep Jaws alive
---
>The next few days are stressful to say the least: during the work day you mostly about Jaws, your boss even yells you several times for surfing the web looking for advice on sea fluffies
>Can't even relax when your home, got to keep vigilant
>Jaws isn't getting better: his belly keeps getting better, which you've been unable to convince him isn't because of babies; between the arguments over his "pregnancy", the more frequent tank cleanings, and his own deteriorating health, Jaws has taken to mostly staying in his castle sulking
>After a week though, you finally catch a break: while moving Jaws back to the bucket for another tank cleaning, you notice the area where his fluff meets his fins is discolored, looking much darker
>A quick search online gets you your answer: fluff rot, a bacterial infection very common to sea fluffies; it eats away at the fluffy's fluff and fins, inhibiting their ability to float and maintain their body temperature
>It also has an exceptionally high mortality rate, most of the time if you can tell your fluffy has it, it's far too late
>Keep looking for solutions: there are anti-bacterial shampoos, but only a few are suitable for sea fluffies and the ones that are hard to find and expensive; you're not sure if you could get the shampoo in time
>The other solution is to shave off the fluff to keep the bacteria from reaching the fins: by raising the temperature of the water in the tank, you can keep Jaws from freezing to death before his fluff grow back
>If you did that, though, you're not sure how Jaws would react; normal fluffies react very poorly to loss of their fluff, you doubt sea fluffies are any better
>Mull it over awhile, and make your decision
---
"Jaws, do you trust me?"
"*cough* Jahs *coughcough* twust Dadda. Jahs wuv Dadda *coughcoughcough*"
"Alright, I'm going to do something you might not like, but it'll make you healthy again."
"Tank *coughcough* yuu Dadda. Jahs nu wan mek *cough* babbehs sickies."
"…I know, little guy."
"*cough* wha' toy fo', Dadda?"
*BZZZZ*
"NUUU-"
---
>A week later, you're fucking miserable
>Boss is getting up your ass, starting to fantasize strangling him with his goddamn tie
>Going home offers no comfort: Jaws hasn't stopped sulking since you shaved him, just sits at the bottom of his tank sobbing, a sad little purple lump of misery
>His belly has only gotten bigger and more horribly swollen; you had to remove the gravel at the bottom, as it was scraping up Jaws exposed belly due to him being weighed down by the increased size
>You've also noticed his fins are looking a bit raggedy lately
>Walk through your front door, are surprised by the lack of sobbing; maybe something's finally distracted him from his misery?
"Jaws?"
>No response
>You walk into the living room with a feeling of dread
>It's quickly justified
>There, floating at the top of its tank, is the lifeless, misshapen, fluffless body of your pet
>Walk out of the room, go to your fridge, and grab a beer
>Sit down on your couch facing the tank
>Remember when you first got Jaws, how excited and happy was, how everything you showed him made him giggle with excitement
>Take a drink
>How he filled up your house with laughter, even if he could be annoying; how he'd always listen to you complain about work, even if everything you said was way over his head
>Take another drink
>And you didn't even get to say good bye
>Finish the can, put it down and stare at the ceiling
"Bye, Jaws…"
---
>You'll eventually get over your grief
>You might even get a new pet to keep you company in your lonely home
>One thing's for sure, though
>It won't be a sea fluffy