>You are Anon again.
>Perspective’s a bitch, ain’t it.
>You are sore as hell from burying that deer.
>That was a fine stag, too. His antlers hadn’t grown yet, but they were just beginning to grow. Had he lived past the hit and run, you’re sure he could have been a hunting trophy. You had to make sure Oz stayed away from the burial site. In a few days the local scavengers would find it and dig it up, which is another sight she didn’t need to see.
>Speaking of hunting trophies…
>You sigh, letting the hot water roll down your shoulders and wash away the dirt. You were going to have to keep Oz out of your shed. There was a lot of taxidermy there. Your favorite was the fox attempting to smoke a bong; it was a great conversation piece when you brought it out every year for the county fair.
>She’d have to keep out of your room, too. Above your bed was mounted a bald eagle, wings outspread. You had found it alive but seriously wounded on the side of the road. Because it –was- a bald eagle, you took it to the animal hospital one town over. However, the bird died on the table due to the poison in its system.
>Something about it eating rats that had been poisoned.
>Anyway, when it was pronounced dead, you had asked if you could have the body. They had said no. You offered them fifty bucks. They declined. A hundred? No deal. One fifty? You left ten minutes later with a new project for the taxidermist.
>But back to the real story.
>The bathroom was the cleanest it had been since you bought this place for fifteen hundred bucks. The owner had been a farmer who had been renting it out, but with a lack of renters it took up too much space and tax money, so when you inquired you got it, along with a couple acres of land.
>You would have to do something about Oz’s fur, though. There was quite a bunch of it everywhere, and it was rather hard to find until you stepped in it. Wet fur was disgusting.
>As you clean yourself off, you go over the conversation you had just had on the phone with your brother.
>He actually worked for Apple so you figured he could help you, minus the fact you hadn’t spoken to him in years.
>You rang him up on your new phone while Oz was in the shower. After a few rings, he picked up.
>”Hello?”
“Hey bro. It’s me, Anon.”
>”Anon?” There’s a pause. “Look, is it important? I’m kind of busy right now…”
“Yeah, it is. Listen, have you guys had any problems with your iPhones?”
>”What kind of problems?”
“Oh, you know…the operating systems somehow come to life as sentient beings placed in a horse’s body and somehow can still use your data plan and receive and make calls and text messages, but they are living and breathing skin and muscle and stuff.”
>There’s a pause and a sigh from his end.
>”Anon…have you been drinking?”
“No! Well, yeah, I had one, but forget that! I’m being serious, Mike-“
>”So am I, Anon. Are you using drugs? I knew you had been on a downward spiral since Kayla but this is ridiculous.”
“Don’t you bring her into this. I’m dead serious about what I said. My phone has sprouted a pony who calls herself iOS and she’s like a goddamn machine except for the fact she’s in a pony’s body that’s all flesh, not metal-“
>”Goddamnit, Anon. Look, I’m at work. Get your life together and don’t call me about this stupid shit. You know, ever since she dumped you-“
“I LEFT HER!”
>You snarl into the phone. He’s hit a nerve, and he knows it.
>”No, she left you because you went and did something stupid like you always do. For fuck’s sake, Anon, you pick up roadkill and cook it for dinner! Get some fucking manners.”
“Fuck you, Mike! You didn’t bitch when we had to do that as kids!”
>”That was fucking different you fuckstick! We had no goddamn choice! But now I have a good job with a steady salary, so I can afford to eat real food! You still live like you’re fucking thirteen again! Drinking and smoking and dipping and working some shit ass blue collar job instead of getting a clue and getting a degree so you can move out of that backwater ass state-“
“There’s nothing wrong with this goddamn state! Hell, it was better because you moved out of it! Now those sorry ass sumbitches there gotta deal with you, and I say good riddance! You know, I can’t believe I figured some literate uptight brown nosing scumbag dick beater like you would help me! You didn’t even call mom and dad when you left. You didn’t even go to their funeral!”
>”And why should I have? They would have understood; it’s called making a fucking living! You should try it sometime! Oh, I’m sorry, you’re too busy trying as hard as possible to die young!”
“Hey, twat waffle, get a fucking clue! Some things are more important than being a fucking workaholic who never sees his wife or kids! I’ll let you go, I’m sure the secretary you’re boning wants your attention back!”
>You snapped the phone shut angrily, as whatever he tried to babble back at you is shut out by the satisfying snap of plastic phone. Damn, that felt good.
>Despite your now foul mood, you flipped the phone open and snap it shut again. Despite yourself, you smirked. You proceeded to repeat the action over and over until you felt better. Each time you made some witty remark.
“Flip out on me? I’ll flip out on you.” 
>Snap shut, flip open. Rinse and repeat.
>When it lost its novelty, you tossed the phone onto your dresser and growled softly, running your hands through your hair grumpily.
>Five minutes later, Oz had knocked on your door. Hopefully she didn’t hear that whole argument.
>You did hope she liked the meal you made for her, though. It was the least you could do for her.
>Now back to the shower and present.
>After a moment, you punch the wall angrily. Fuck him. 
>You finish up and get out, drying yourself off. You head back to your room to get dressed.
>A pair of boxers and “fresh” jeans later, you pause and look in the cracked mirror leaning against the wall. Beside it is a photo of you from when you were younger, about ten or twelve. You’re at the pool at the YMCA two towns over for a field trip, grinning that gap-toothed grin kids that age have and flexing like a dumbass.
>You smirk and look at yourself in the mirror. After a moment, you copy that pose.
>Your teeth aren’t as white, but they’re all there, surprisingly. You got a lot more muscle since then, although your abs could use some work. Alcohol is the problem there.
>You also got some ink and a couple of scars.
>You shake your head. Goddamnit, you didn’t want any feels-
>There’s another knock at your door. You open it to see Oz. She looks taken aback by how you look without a shirt and looks away, blushing. 
>And this is why you didn’t want to shower with her. Hard enough to explain the tattoos, but if she wanted you to explain what that was between your legs…
>Nope. Avoiding that all together. She’s a friend, that’s all. A friend who happens to be an advanced smart AI.
“What’s up, Oz?”
>”Um…I was wondering if you could help me attend to my mane and fur. It’s…hard to do by myself…”
>Indeed, her mane and fur is a gigantic poofy tangled mess. It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion. You’re watching her fly through the windshield into a car wash.
>You nod and chuckle. 
“Sure, Oz. Let me grab a brush.”
>You grab a brush that you had bought from the Wal-Mart specifically for brushing fur and hair. Two sided, for your convenience.
>You also put a sleeveless tee on so she doesn’t keep blushing.
>Who are you kidding. All your tees are sleeveless.
>You pop some pizza rolls real fast while she makes herself comfortable on the couch. Despite the searing heat, you scarf them down. Ignoring the pain, you wash it down with a beer. You also mix yourself a Jack and Coke in a plastic cup. You deserve it.
“Alright…let’s fix you up.”
>You sit down on the couch, placing your drink on the coffee table and you pat your lap like you would to call for your pet dog.
>Oz blinks at you and frowns. You realize what you did swiftly.
“My fault, Oz. Have a seat…please?”
>She gives a nod and a smile, laying across your lap. Again, like a pet dog. Well, she’s a bit heavier than a dog but whatever.
>You begin to brush her fur, attempting to smooth it out and get rid of the knots and tangles. It’s a slow process, but judging by her relaxed appearance she’s enjoying the attention.
“Oz…”
>”Yes, Anon?”
“Thank you for cleaning up. It’s not often I have company so I don’t worry about it a lot.”
>She snorts. “You’re most welcome, Anon. After all, I reside in this domicile as well, now.”
>You keep brushing her fur. You start with her legs and work your way up from there. It certainly brings back memories.
>You remember taking care of Max like this. Max was the collie you had as a kid. Since mom and dad had to work two jobs each just to make ends meet, you and your brother were left to your own devices. One of those was taking care of the family pet. Often enough, you found yourself with that large pile of fur sitting nearby, panting happily while you groomed his fur.
>You continue brushing Oz’s fur, now working on her mane. She sighs softly, resting against you. She’s warm and soft to the touch.
>Your mind drifts as you remember the past. Working young, school, sports, the military, and Kayla.
>That wasn’t a mistake you’d make again. You left your heart open once, and the results were bitter. Now…
>”…Anon?”
>You return to reality, Oz looking at your with concern.
>”Is everything alright? You’ve been brushing my flank for approximately ten minutes and forty-five seconds.”
>Indeed, the brush is paused over the silver Apple cutie mark she has.
>You shake your head and take a long drink of your Jack and Coke.
“Nah…everything’s fine, Oz. Just fine.”
>You set aside the brush; she’s as pretty as you’ll be able to get her. You brush your fingers through her mane like you used to do to Max’s fur.
“You know what…let’s watch something. You get to pick.”
>”Anything I want?” She seems surprised.
“Yeah. You get to control the boob tube.”
>You pass her the remote. Her eyes do that white thing that they do when she’s accessing the data plan’s internet.
>”According to TVGuide, ‘Pride and Prejudice’ is playing on channel 580 in a few minutes. It comes highly lauded, with it earning four nominations at the 78th Academy Awards, including a Best Actress nod for Keira Knightley, who plays the main role of-“
>You put a finger on Oz’s mouth to shush her. 
“Don’t ruin it for me, silly.”
>She blinks, and gives an embarrassed smile.
>“Sorry, Anon. I’m just used to giving full descriptions of what I encounter in order to better help the user-“
>You give her a smirk. 
“You’re doing it again. Just get comfortable. We’re watching whatever you want.”
>Blushing, she sets the channel to the aforementioned one. Surprisingly, it comes in crystal clear.
>She cuddles up to you as the commercials end and the usual tidbits about movie ratings and crap pops up. You wrap an arm around her and stroke her mane gently as it begins.
>Confound this particular pony, she’s driving a wedge into your icebox of a heart. You were the rough and rowdy crowd, like Hank Junior sang about. You hadn’t given a single tear in ages, since the folks passed. And now this pony, this impossibly adorable pony with her fancy educated ways and her unknowing nature…
>You were beginning to feel attached to her, and not just because she reminded you of happier days.
>Hours and another sappy chick flick later, you’re holding a soft pony, warm pony, little ball of fur-
>Oh God what are you doing. Staph.
>Ahem. Oz cried a little but it was a happy cry. The kind females get when they watch things like this. She also leaned on you, cuddling close. As the credits roll, you eye the empty cup morosely.
>You finished your drink halfway through the first movie, but because you wanted to keep her happy you kept still. Now your alcohol cravings were kicking again, like they always did. You weren’t an alcoholic, but sometimes you were close.
>She yawns and leans back. You glance at the clock on the VCR and sigh. 
“I should get to bed, Oz. I got work tomorrow.”
>”Work?”
>She seems oddly confused by this.
“I have a job at the local auto parts store. It’s not much, but it pays the bills.”
>That was the truth. You actually had a lot saved away, but you never had an urge to spend it. Hence all your old redneck stuff.
>”Can I come with you to your job? I’ve never really seen a job before, and I-“
>You’re already shaking your head no.
“Sorry. Jeb don’t take too kindly to anything with hooves. But I can see about maybe you coming in. Of course, you’d have to pretend to be…more like a real pony.”
>”But…I am a real pony. I think.” She wrinkles her nose. 
“Yeah, but real ponies don’t talk or have horns.” 
>You poke her horn gently. She giggles. What?
>”True. I suppose I shall have to research being a real equine tomorrow then. I want to blend in seamlessly.”
>You chuckle and shake your head, patting her on the head before standing up. You stretch and yawn, headed for your room.
“G’night, Oz.”
>As you step into your room, you hear hooves behind you on the hardwood floor. Turn, you see Oz has followed you. She shuffles a hoof embarrassedly. 
>”Um…Anon…I…”
>You have an inkling of what’s coming. You half expected it. But you don’t rush the issue, instead folding your arms over your chest and looking at her patiently.
>”I…was wondering…if I could…if I could slumber with you in your bed this evening? I promise not to be a bother, but it’s…awfully dark and lonely out in the living room and-“
>You nod your head, smiling a little, mostly to stop her from rambling. She tends to do that a lot, you’ve noticed.
>”Thank you, Anon.” She gives you a warm smile. HNNNG your cold armor melts some more.
>You chuckle as she passes you, headed for the large bed. You remove your shirt and jeans but keep your boxers on.
>You normally sleep naked, but again, awkward uncomfortable thoughts. OH NO YOU DON’T BONER.
>Swiftly you turn off the lights to avoid that whole can of worms and jump into bed. Under the covers, she curls close to you. Damn, she’s really soft and warm.
>”Good night, Anon.”
“Night, Oz.”