Applejack stares at the patch of dirt. She smiles.
Soft barks drift over the acre that had been dedicated to apples. Rosy, the bark makes the fireflies come out and light the world pretty. The warmth makes ponies sleepy. It’s been a good day.
The bed is soft, made from carefully selected feathers shed by birds. As inviting as the bed is, its time has not come. First, a hat is tenderly placed upon a table. Although the hat is not new, Applejack still remembers it fondly. Then a puff of gentle air. What’s left in the lantern is drops of wax, already turning cold. In the darkness, orange hooves feel for the bed.
A long day makes those hooves sluggish. When the first hoof finds the bed, the rest flop on, like caterpillars. Then comes the squirming, as if she’s caught up in some mad escape from evil. Finally comfortable, her body stills. It is in this realm of death and life that she begins to see.
Murky at first, the world begins to solidify from cloud of black. They are soft and fluffy and wet and slobbery. Grass sprouts, green and lush. Mostly, Applejack feels at home. Familiarity causes her to smile fondly, even though she isn’t quite sure what is real. But barking in the distance causes her to grimace. Now she remembers.
The puppy is a sorry little thing. Its ragged coat is dull and muddy brown. And it’s different. But it tries. In the distance is a orange thing. The puppy hasn’t seen such a creature before. Maybe this time, it will be able to succeed. She runs up to the orange, and barks a little. The orange thing doesn’t run off, but it doesn’t. Yet it doesn’t seem like it’s going to attack either. So she lifts her hind leg, and marks the soil.
Applejack watches as the puppy destroys what is perfectly good farmland. She sighs. Agriculture is hard, and every bit of land counts. Not that she’s angry at the poor thing. She can’t be, especially since the puppy was thrown through the Everfree Forest. If it were her, she bet she would be just as desperate. Besides, the pup could be useful for herding cows.
Her family is very accepting when they see the pup. Even Granny Smith, who Applejack isn’t quite sure about seems to like the new addition. Things are clear though. Like it or not, the puppy desperately needs a bath.
When the suds begin to pierce their way into the puppies eyes, everypony knows something is going wrong. The puppy won’t stop squealing and squirming. It’s because of the peaceful lives they’ve held. All they know about puppies are the nice and gentle kind that are soft and cuddly. This feral side is new, although not entirely unwelcome. A little fighting spirit doesn’t hurt when there are still rows upon rows of trees left to harvest, or cows left to herd.
It’s Applejacks favorite birthday gift when she knows the pup is there to stay. Secret at first, it’s soon revealed after the pup herds the cows successfully for the first time. Magically, the family appears, hidden behind haystacks and gallop towards Applejack, who still doesn’t know what is going on, and half frightened off her rockers. With a thump, the orange mare is obscured by a cloud of loose hay.
Sickening pools of slobber bathe her. Slightly disgusted, Applejack is reluctant to open her eyes, despite the incessant pawing on her coat. She just lays there for a while, basking in the glorious truth that yes the pup is there to stay and no it’s not just a dream and maybe the santa pony exists after all.
After a while, when the pup settles in, and everypony is content, Applejack’s worried. She’s worried because the pup isn’t as glowy as before. Instinctively she knows what’s wrong. The pup is no longer a pup, and as happy as it is to be with her, and them, it’s lonely, not having being brought up in an artificial environment. But at the same time, she’s reluctant to say anything, because she’s not sure how her parents will take it, with how much work the first pup is.
Maybe she’s asked enough of her parents and Granny Smith to warrant asking of them again. Or maybe because it’s hard work to take care of the pup, because even she, proud as she is needs to get help from her brother sometimes. And another pup would be even more trouble, let alone the children that would inevitably result.
Day after day, the question gnawed at Applejack, because as much as her self-gratifying feelings of helplessness justified her inaction, she also couldn’t lie to herself. It wasn’t fair to her pup or her parents if she never brought it up, and besides the pup needed it. If she couldn’t take care of the pup, then maybe she wasn’t the one to take care of it anymore, as much as she selfishly wanted to hold on.
And that was when tragedy struck.
Because the pup, unlike the pony, had a lifespan of a dusty old book. A dusty old book that had been run over by a train and subjected to mud from various foal’s games and pegasus weather gone wrong and generally been bullied out of existence. But the pup, unlike the book could understand, and had found a friend in Applejack, not that Applejack had been the best of friends. The bond that Applejack had forged with the pup was one that could not be broken.
It happens when the pup is out on a run with Applejack. Maybe it’s just bad luck, or maybe it’s some kind of terrible plot device, but the pup stumbles. At first, Applejack doesn’t know what’s happened. The pup has stumbled before many a time, and Applejack can’t see what’s wrong at the moment, because the pup has always gotten up before. So she waits for it, as she always has. She waits for the pup to get back up and say that everything is okay. She waits for the pup to say that it’s going to be alright. She waits for the pup to confirm that she hasn’t been a terrible friend recently, and that the pup will forgive her. But this can never happen. The pup doesn’t get up and it’s not a fairytale, because it turns out that the best lessons stem from the mysterious force that decides that nopony should be equal, despite how hard Princess Celestia tries, and Luna knows who else. Because the pup getting up would make Applejack less of a pony than she is and she will be. Because of some cruel thing that is called character building.
And because the one thing we wanted to say was goodbye.
The pup’s brown fur begins to blend with the mud after a while. Applejack is still there in a daze. She already knows of course, but as always, it’s hard to believe, and even harder to accept. Part of it is her stubborness. She doesn’t want to wallow in tears, as she had found it nonsensical and a waste of time. Yet the truth is never quite the way anypony expects.
It’s only after that ponies start to flock to see why Applejack is sitting doing nothing that she takes action. She lifts the pup by it’s neck and starts running. She runs towards the hospital, south. Running and running and running, in what seems like hours into days. And she can’t stop.
Just like that, Applejack’s done with running. She’s done with everything. She’s put down the pitchforks and the horseshoes. All of it is washed away, swept by the torrent of tears. They are all consuming tears. She knows that it’s her fault that everything turned out this way. It’s all because after a while, the pup had become a liability. Her standing with her family had become more important than her responsibilities.
Shameful
That wasn’t the way that she had been brought up. She was going to do what was right. So she started home. Because worst comes to worst, she was an honest, hardworking pony. Down the dirt path she trod, thinking about everything she had been through with the pup. It had been years of fun, not that the fun they had was completely trouble free.
One time, Grandma Smith had caught them rolling in the hay when it had been freshly bundled. It had seemed like a good idea at first, and she had always liked the smell of hay. So did the pup too apparently, when he dived right in as she had just opened the barn door. Of course, she should have expected it, as the pup had done that many times before. But maybe that’s exactly why she did it. There was almost never a moment of rest on Sweet Apple Acres. It was always pick this, buck that, clean this, wipe that, and on and on. A never ending list of chores flowed out from the mouth of Granny Smith, down through into her brother’s dung heap.
And it wasn’t just one time. She was an addict, hooked to the notion that there was more to the cycle of life than doing an honest day’s work at a dingy old farm in the corner of nowhere. And even though her visit to the city proved disastrous, it had opened her eyes to the world. It helped her see through the fog enshrouded truth. Applejack had discovered something that most had taken for granted: fun.
Granny Smith never failed to give Applejack a scolding of course, as it was true that farms had suffered gross economic loss over the years ever since the records went, back when legends told of a kind Nightmare Moon. A Nightmare Moon that hadn’t prevented crop growth and caused famines. But Applejack never minded, because it was a small price to pay for the precious moments.
That is why Applejack isn’t afraid when she opens the door to the house that contains her room and other important memories. Behind every scolding was the trademark honesty that marked the Apple family, and she realized that none of this was anypony’s fault but her own. She wants punishment and redemption. But that was not what was to await the poor Applejack.
What awaits Applejack, is Granny Smith to be sure, but not the screw-loose, crazy grandma type Granny Smith, but one that is a great deal more mellow and mature. And even though Granny Smith has a saggy old hip, she seems beautiful, in a melancholy sort of way. This is exactly what Applejack didn’t want. Pity was never a great cure for more pain. For most, pity is a way to say, theres nothing we can do for you, now leave.
Granny Smith continued to stare sadly as Applejack turned round through the door again. It was never an easy lesson to learn, although one that was necessary. For time stopped for no one, something that only the alicorns had ever learned.
And because Applejack stared at the dirt and smiled, she learns to cherish what she has even more. Even as she’s getting slobbered with a tongue unnecessarily wet and joyful.
