John Sampson's Story

As the train pulled into the Ponyville station we grabbed our bags and prepared to debark. AJ had come to Canterlot for our first date so now we were going to her farm for the second and possibly final date. There had been much correspondence and legal negotiation in between but we were coming down to the finish line.

Swift’s saddle bags and my pack were loaded with gear and trail supplies. It was our plan to spend some time with the Apple family then camp in some isolated woods on the backside of the Apple farm. If we chose to go ahead the heartbonding would likely take place while we were camping. There was little chance that we would make it back through town without Pinkie throwing us a reception but that was the price of life in Ponyville.

I had hoped that AJ would meet us in town for lunch but the stationmaster had a note from her informing us that one of her wholesalers in Manehatten had filed for bankruptcy owing her for a year’s apples. It was show up and make a claim right now or forget about a year’s profits. She would be back in a couple of days. It wasn’t like Big Mac was a stranger and I would get a little extra time to play with Fred. And we had already waited months for this moment so an extra day or two wouldn’t matter.

Sugarcube Corner gave us a chance to eat and face Pinkie in one quick move. She seemed to accept that the date for the marriage wasn’t set yet but you can never be sure with Pinkie. A quick hike up the road brought us to the front gate of the Apple farm. Every field I could see had been plowed and was set up for planting in spring. That kinda disappointed me. I had wanted to try my back at pulling a plow. I had friends that did it and I never had.

Granny Smith was rocking on the porch. She motioned us to approach. “Put your stuff in the last room down the hall on the right. Bathroom’s across the hall. Big Mac is in the west 420.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” We dropped our luggage in the bedroom and went looking for Big Mac.

As we crested the hill on the west road, we ran into a filly headed the other way. “Anypony with a mane that exact color has to be related to Big Mac,” Swift said.

“And being dead up in the middle of Sweet Apple Acres couldn’t possibly have anything to do with it?” she fired back.

So I picked it up, “I’ll bet it’s Apple Bloom.”

She looked at me and said, “And I’ll bet you’re that human trying to steal AJ.”

Uh oh. “You, my darling filly, are confused. AJ is trying to trap us on the farm.”

“Really?” apparently she likes that idea. “If you’re looking for Fred and Big Mac, they’re about two hundred and fifty yards that way.” pointing west on the road.

“Thank you, Milady.”

She went on her way giggling and we continued on ours.

Sure enough, just down the road and behind some trees was Big Mac and Fred plowing a field. ‘Plowing a field’, oh boy, I get to try it after all!

“Hello Fred. Hello Big Mac.”

They both shrugged out of the harness and came at a full gallop.

“Hey, John! AJ had ta go ta Manehatten. She’ll be back in two days.”

“Yeh, we got her note. We got a week and more for the asking. Did she tell you how the Guard feels about this whole thing?”

“Eeyup.”

“So we’re here for a vacation too. I’ve even been thinking about trying my shoulder against a plow.”

“So pick one, big stallion.”

I stripped my shirt off and passed it to Swift. “By the way, we ran into Apple Bloom on the way up here. She was mad at me for stealing AJ but I reassured her that AJ was actually trying to trap us on the farm. She liked that idea.”

“John, be careful. She can talk ponies into anything. You may find a bear trap in your bed tonight.” Big Mac warned.

“Okay. I’ll try your plow first.”

I trotted over to the single bottom plow Big Mac favored and shrugged myself into the harness. It fit fairly well. I took aim on the far side of the field and leaned into it. It was a soft bumpy trip because this was a second pass, made at an angle to the first. I was coming back when Big Mac shouted at me.

“Slow down, John. You’re throwing the dirt too far.”

So I stopped next to Fred’s three bottom plow and moved over into his harness.

It was a little big on me. But I wrapped my arms around the collar so it was against my upper arms and tightened up. I took a step but the dirt just moved back under my foot. I took a deep breath and concentrated, feeling my muscles and my strength flowing down my legs and into the ground. And just walked forward. It wasn’t hard, it felt good.

I’d made eight passes down the field and back when,

I laughed, “Fred, because I love you, I’m going to teach you a valuable lesson. On the strength of your evaluation of me as a ‘show off’, I am going to stop doing your work for you.

“Big Mac! What have you been teaching my horse? I’m shocked.”

Breakfast is apple fritters at six AM in the family kitchen. Granny might be old but she’s no slouch in the kitchen. I was extra hungry. Using my magic has that effect on me.

I quizzed Big Mac, “I’d like to find a good camping spot. We could set up and come back here for any work that needs doing. Where do you think we should start?

Big Mac thought for a moment, “From where we met yesterday, follow the fenceline north. In about six hundred yards you’ll cross a creek. Follow the creek east and you’ll find a clearing. It’s a pretty place.”

I got up and started gathering dishes when, “Don’t you touch that!” it was Granny. “I’ll say who touches my dishes and when!”

“Yes Ma’am.” Setting them carefully back on the table.

“Damned stallions. You gotta keep on top of them every minute.” Granny grumbled.

I looked at Big Mac. He shrugged, “Eeyup.”

We left a few clothes behind as we gathered our gear and slipped out the back door. It was a pleasant morning with just enough chill to be invigorating. I’ve got my mare by my side and we’re heading out to live wild and free for while. This is how life should be lived.

We followed Big Mac’s instructions and there it was, a little pocket pasture with the creek flowing through it and trees all around. This is where I could spend eternity with sweet grass, clear water, and protection from the miseries of the world.

I threw the pop tent and anchored it between two trees so we would have shelter if the weather turned but I left our sleeping pad in the open in front of it. Swift put our groceries in the tent to discourage curious critters and I stripped down to get in touch with my inner pony. We walked out into the grass and just grazed for a while. My neck didn’t let me graze like I wanted to but I could pick tender blades to chew as I stood beside my mare in our little domain.

I found a spot that looked oh so comfortable so I laid down and rolled. Of course I ended up with little bits of crushed grass all over me so Swift came over and started picking them off and eating them. I laid there and dozed in perfect contentment. After a bit I felt a push between my shoulders. “My turn lover,” Swift said. We traded places and after she had rolled, I picked.

Coming up on noon we decided to go back to the house and check in. I started back down the creek when Swift spoke up, “It really does feel like home, doesn’t it?”

I stopped, confused, “Well, yes, but why is that significant right now?”

“You haven’t put your pants back on.”

“Do I need them? The trail is clear.”

“What about Bloom?”

“She’s lived her whole life around Big Mac. I’m sure she’s seen balls before.”

“But Big Mac doesn’t walk around at half mast all the time.”

Oh. I had forgotten that. “You’re right. She needs some time to adjust to the human side.” So I went to the tent and put my cargo shorts on.

“Have you realized, John, that this is the first place where you have felt completely comfortable outside? I’m used to the fully natural you but it’s not something you show to many ponies.”

I thought on that as we walked along the fenceline. My inner pony was conflicted about hiding anything from ponies I called friend. When we passed the field where Fred and Big Mac were working, I noticed that the plows were standing alone. It was definitely lunch time when we got to the house.

Granny was on a tear, “Well now. You seem to have lost some of your clothes in the woods.”

“Granny, I don’t wear clothes at home. I lost all of them for a while.”

Granny eyeballed me carefully, “But you had to put some on to come here?”

“I almost forgot to but Swift reminded me that some of my human idiosyncrasies disturb ponies that are not used to them. If what you are asking is ‘does this feel like home to me?’ the answer is ‘Yes!’”

“Good, then you can wash the dishes.”

That’s Granny. The smallest and weakest in body and always in charge.

Swift put the dishes up after I washed and Bloom dried. Granny was impressed with how quickly hands could reduce a complex task to a completed job. After all was done we headed back up the road after Fred and Big Mac. I spelled both of them on a plow while Swift kept the cool water flowing. I just felt so right with the world working the land with my family. My inner pony was in heaven.

We were nearly done but it was time for dinner and, as it was explained to me, there was no ‘late for dinner’ with Granny. If you were late, there was no dinner. And that would have been truly sad. We had roasted corn, stewed carrots, garden salad, and extreme apple pie.

Granny put me on dish detail again but I made quick work of it. I told Big Mac that we were going to spend the night in the tent and would probably eat breakfast there then meet him and Fred in the field. He just grinned and nodded.

As we walked up the road toward the setting sun, side by side with my hand caressing my mare’s withers, I reflected on just how lucky I am.