A Dog's Best Friend

by Vic Fontaine


Story Time

“Thanks for letting me stay up late, Applejack. Especially on a school night.”

“No thanks needed, Applebloom.” Applejack swept the last bits of confetti and cake crumbs into a dust pan before turning to face her sister. “You know we Apples never miss a birthday,” she added with a wink.

“It was fun getting Winona presents and singing ‘Happy Birthday’,” Applebloom replied. “And Missus Fluttershy was mighty kind to bake a cake that she could eat without getting sick.”

“That it was.” Applejack grinned as she emptied the dustpan into a waste bin. “And judging by the amount of crumbs she left behind, I’d say the birthday girl enjoyed it too.”

Winona perked up from her usual spot near the still-burning hearth, tongue and tail wagging excitedly.

Applejack looked over to her and couldn't help but smile at the white nose and innocent-looking face that was staring back at her. “I swear, she knows exactly when we’re talkin’ about her.”

“Maybe she just… I don’t know, has a super-special bond with you or something,” Applebloom replied while she busied herself returning the various cushions and chairs to their proper places around the family room.

“She probably does,” Applejack said. “Winona and I go way back, after all.”

“How far back?” Applebloom wondered aloud.

“All the way back to the day she was born.” Applejack glanced at Winona, who had returned to lounging calmly by the hearth. “You could say that I was her first friend in the whole world.”

“Now that you mention it…” Applebloom scratched her chin with a hoof. “How did Winona come here in the first place?”

Applejack tried to answer, but the words died on her tongue; she stood still for a moment with a distant look in her eyes. A few seconds passed before she spoke.

“Look, I know you’re probably too old for this now… but would you like to hear a story?”

Applebloom’s eyes lit up. “Absolutely!”

The small clock on the wall chimed nine times, drawing Applejack’s attention.

“Tell you what,” Applejack said, “I’ll start the story while you start getting ready for bed. Deal?”

“Deal!”

Applejack quickly stoked the fire before leading her sister towards the stairs. “Well, it all began when you were barely a year old…”


*thunk*

“Ugh, come on you—”

*thunk*

“I said drop the apples!”

*thunk*

“Aw for the love of…” *thunk* “Consarn—”

“That’s strong language for such a young filly.”

“Huh? Ah—” Applejack tried to stop herself mid-buck to look for the source of the interrupting voice, but only succeeded in losing her balance and falling over in a tangled heap.

Granny Smith waited in silence while Applejack flailed about trying to regain her sense of direction.

Granny? Why’d you go and scare me like that?”

“Well, for starters, you know your Ma would be upset if she had heard you talking like that,” Granny replied sternly.

Applejack stood and wiped the sweat from her face. “You’re right, Granny, I’m sorry. But you’d be upset too if’n you’d been bucking a tree fer twenty minutes and got a whole heap of nothin’ fer yer troubles!”

“I reckon I might, but yelling at the tree won’t do ya much good either,” she said. “You have to learn how to talk to the tree first.”

Applejack nearly choked on her words. “Huh? Whaddya mean ‘talk’ to the trees?”

Granny just smiled at her. “Watch and learn.”

Applejack followed her around to the opposite side of the tree, where Granny began to brush a hoof over the bark in an overlapping pattern. “The trick is, you hafta find the soft spots in the bark.” Granny spoke quietly as she continued her slow walk around the tree.

"They only happen where two big sections of bark meet, so when you find one—” she stopped at a particular spot and retraced the area with her hoof before stepping back. “—That’s the tree tellin’ you where its sweet spots are.”

Applejack stepped past and rubbed her own hoof along the same section of bark. “Whoa…”

“See what happens when you slow down and listen?” Granny chuckled, adding a small shoulder bump for good measure. “I may be gettin’ old and grey, but I still know a thing or two about applebuckin’. Now, try it again, AJ.”

Granny Smith stepped aside, leaving ample space for Applejack to line herself up with the tree. After re-checking the desired spot, she smoothly threw her weight forward and coiled up her hind legs. A half-breath later, her legs shot out behind her and impacted the tree with pinpoint accuracy, sending pieces of bark flying everywhere. The tree gave up its treasure quickly, and soon the ground around them was covered in bright red apples.

“Wait, it’s that easy?” Applejack exclaimed as she looked around at the trove of apples.

Granny just grinned and shook her head. “As yer big brother might say… ‘Eeyup.’”

Applejack just stood there with hat in hoof and an open mouth as the whole situation sunk in. “I can’t believe it was that simple…”

Granny ruffled Applejack’s hair before snagging her still-oversized hat and unceremoniously plopping it back on her head. “Heh, you’re welcome, little apple.”

Applejack was about to protest her status as ‘little’ when the sound of hoofsteps came to her from down the main path. “That must be Big Mac. We best get a move on, Granny. Granny?”

Applejack turned to her left but saw nothing but a cloud of dust and Granny trotting away.

“Last one there’s a rotten apple!”

“Wha—” Applejack frantically shoved her hat back into place and took off after her. “Granny, wait up!”


“Granny Smith the prankster?” Applebloom asked as she climbed into her bed, having finished her necessary preparations. “She seems way too old-fashioned to be playin’ jokes on anypony!”

Applejack shook her head and chuckled. “She can’t get around too well now, but back then, she was no pushover. You just wait, though; once you’re a bit older, she’ll start prankin’ you too!”

Applebloom frowned at that, but it quickly transformed into a mischievous grin. “Hey, sis, you think you could give me a hint or two when Granny’s planning to prank me?”

“You can bet on it,” Applejack replied with a sly grin of her own. “‘Sides, I told her I’d get her back… I just never said exactly how.”

They both stifled a laugh before Applejack continued. “Now, where was I… Oh, yeah. We got back to the house just in time for Big Macintosh to pull up…”


“Welcome home, Mac!” Applejack chirped as she tried to catch her breath after running back to the house.

“Eeyup,” Macintosh replied as he stepped out of his harness and walked toward the back of the wagon. “Did you finish seeding the vegetable garden out back?”

“You bet! I even got a bit of applebuckin’ in too!” she replied. “Thanks to some timely help from Granny, that is,” she added with a sheepish grin.

“Good to hear.” He unhooked the wagon’s gate and climbed in. “Now, give me a hoof with these baskets.”

Applejack moved to the rear of the wagon, where Macintosh began passing empty baskets and other goods to her, though Macintosh lifted the heaviest objects himself – much to his sister’s chagrin.

The sound of hoofsteps caught their attention, and Macintosh turned to see Granny approaching from the same direction that Applejack had come from. “Well, how did we do this week?”

“Not too bad, considering,” he replied while stepping down from the wagon. “Sold two full bushels and a bit of the third b’fore market closed for the week.”

Granny scuffed a hoof through the dirt. “That’s nearly half a basket less than last week. Surely, ponies need—”

“Yes, Granny, ponies need their apples,” Macintosh spoke in as soothing a tone as he could muster. “But they need bits to buy them, and with a thin harvest this year, things are tight for everypony.” He ran a hoof through his mane while he took a moment to think. “Next week I’ll bring two fresh baskets and whatever’s still good from this one here. If I sell them first, but for a bit less than normal…”

“Then we skip how many meals as a result, hmm?” Granny Smith huffed impudently. Applejack stood in perfect silence as the discussion continued around her. She had learned not to interrupt these sorts of conversations, but she also knew to keep one ear perked.

        “Celestia knows we’re doing the best we can, Mac, especially with your Ma and Pa gone.” Granny nodded to them in turn. “But we can’t feed all of us on sweat an’ good intentions alone, to say nothin’ of little Applebloom.”

“I know, I know…” Macintosh sighed. “But, we’ll figure it out; we Apples always do. Now, how about we go—”

Ruff!

Macintosh’s eyes went wide, as if he had been caught with his hoof in a cookie jar.

Ruff!

He looked back to the wagon and the burlap sack that had been hiding his latest - and most unexpected - find at the town’s market. He turned his gaze back to his family and saw one thoroughly confused look… and one disapproving glare.

“I can explain…”


Applebloom cut in with another question. “So, Mac brought Winona home, then?”

Applejack shook her head a bit. “Not Winona; Winona’s ma.”

“Oh, okay…” Applebloom scratched her chin with a hoof as if in thought. “But where did he find her?”

“Actually, she found him. The way Mac told it, she musta climbed into the wagon while he was tending t’ his stall. He didn’t even know she was in there until he was halfway back to th’ farm. Granny wasn't too happy about having another mouth to feed, but she’d never turn down a creature in need.” She glanced at Applebloom. “Especially one that looked to be starving, and nearly ready to have puppies.”

“Wait, you mean— Ohh…” Applebloom sighed as the pieces clicked together. “So, how long did her mother stay here?”

Applejack grew quiet for a moment, stealing a glance out the window to look at the clear night sky. “Barely two weeks...”


“Applejack, when yer done there, could you check on Applebloom for me?” Granny asked while she tended to a row of tomato plants. “Make sure she’s still takin’ her afternoon nap.”

“Yes, Granny.” Applejack quickly deposited the last onion bulb in its newly-dug home on the opposite side of the vegetable garden. “Be right back.”

After dropping the empty onion bulb tray into a nearby cart, Applejack began moving towards the front porch. She had gone but a few steps when her ears twitched.

“Granny, was that you?”

“No,” she yelled over her shoulder. “Why?”

Applejack’s ears swiveled back and forth quickly, trying to catch the sound again. “Oh, okay; just sounded like somepony was callin—”

“Applejack! Granny!”

She spun on her hooves just in time to see Macintosh come tearing out of the field of high grass that bordered the Western edge of their homestead. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Granny jump to her hooves as well. “What in tarnation?”

“Granny, get help!” Macintosh yelled frantically as he raced across the property towards their home. “She’s hurt!”

“Hurt? Who’s— Oh no…” Applejack saw the look on Granny’s face and the thought clicked in her own head a moment later. “Oh stars, not her!”

They ran out to meet Macintosh as he charged through the front gate while trying his best not to jostle the small bundle draped across his back. “I… I tried t’ stop– to stop her…” He panted through labored breaths.

“What the hay happened out there?!” She glared at Macintosh while carefully taking a hastily tied bundle off his back and setting it down. Applejack could see blood staining the cloth. “I thought you were watching her!”

“I– I was, I swear!” Macintosh stammered. “She was right there next to me, I turned to buck a tree, and the next thing I know, she’s tearing off into the woods! I ran after her, but by the time I found her, it was too late.”

Applejack was stunned into silence at the scene before her. She didn't know much about the dog beyond its love of playing fetch with her, but even she could see it was badly injured. “What happened to her?”

“Young timberwolf,” Macintosh replied somberly. “Musta come separated from its pack; probably thought the woods out past the Western fields was the same as the Everfree. She must have smelled it and ran out after it.”

The dog let out a series of pained howls as she tried to roll herself to one side. Macintosh reached in with a hoof to assist. “Granny, what’s she doing?”

“Oh, no, she’s going into labor.” She turned to them with wide eyes. “Applejack, go to the house and get the first aid kit! Macintosh, get the wash basin from the barn! Hurry!”

They all returned a minute later with the necessary supplies. Applejack remained silent through her tears as Granny barked orders to her and Macintosh, while the injured dog filled the air with one painful howl after another.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, all was silent. Applejack looked to her brother, his own eyes red from tears. Then, a new cry rang out.

Instead of pain though, it was a cry of new life.

“Y’all c’mere.” Granny turned as they approached, and they gasped at the tiny newborn that now rested in her hooves, cocooned inside a spare bath towel. A large streak of white ran down the middle of its brown coat, while smaller bursts of white covered its feet and the tip of its nose.

“Oh my…” Macintosh whispered.

“It’s a girl,” Granny added softly.

“She’s adorable,” Applejack muttered, “but, what about—”

“I’m sorry, AJ, she didn’t make it.” Granny looked down as she spoke. “Honestly though, I think she held on ‘xactly as long as she needed to.”

Silence reigned for a moment, save for the Apple family’s sobs and the puppy’s soft whines. Finally, Applejack choked back her tears enough to speak.

“Granny, Mac, is… Is there any way we can keep her?”

They looked to each other for a second before Granny spoke again. “Yes, we can keep her. In fact…” She leaned forward and gently placed the puppy into Applejack’s outstretched hooves. “She’s yours. Consider her yer first big ‘solo’ responsibility.”

Applejack smiled through the last of her tears as she cradled the puppy like it was the most fragile thing in the world. In a way, it still was, and the responsibility weighed heavily on her.

“What about a name?” Macintosh asked. “Poor thing needs a name, after all...”

“I don’t know,” Applejack replied meekly. “We never even got t’ name the poor thing’s mother.”

“What about ‘Winona’?” Granny waited for Applejack to look up before continuing. “Before our family came to Ponyville, your Grandpa and I used to sell apples to the nearby Buffalo tribes each year. I managed to pick up a word or two of their language along th’ way.”

Applejack arched an eyebrow inquisitively. “So, what does it mean?”

“It means, ‘first born daughter'.”

“That’s a pretty name. I like it.” Applejack stared at the puppy for a moment before smiling and hugging the tiny bundle against her chest. “Well, howdy-do, Winona. I’m Applejack!”

Winona squirmed a bit and mewled quite loudly in response.

“Well, I’d say you just made yourself a new friend,” Macintosh chuckled as he shed a happy tear of his own.


“And that, Applebloom, is how we got Winona.”

“Wow, that’s an amazing story, sis.” Applebloom looked up to her sister. “Guess that explains why you seem to know her better than any of us.”

Applejack stood from the bedside and stretched. “I was her first friend in the whole world, and in a way, she became a second sister to me. She’s just as much a part of this house as you, me, Mac, and Granny; it just wouldn't be the same without her.”

Applebloom started to respond, but the words turned into a long yawn instead.

“You best get some rest, okay?” Applejack gave her sister another hug before moving to the door. “Good night, Applebloom.”

“Goodnight, Applejack. Thanks for the story.”

Applejack nodded to her sister before softly closing the bedroom door behind her. She made her way down the stairs to the living room, where she was greeted by the warmth of a still-burning hearth and the jingling of a dog collar.

“You’re still up?”

Winona looked up from her customary spot near the hearth and gave a soft yip in response.

“Yeah, must be nice not havin’ to get up with the dawn every day,” Applejack plopped onto the well-worn couch with a chuckle. “Alright, birthday girl, come here.”

She patted the cushion next to her and within seconds, Winona had jumped onto the couch and curled up next to her. Applejack wrapped a hoof around Winona and lazily scratched at her favorite spot, just behind her right ear.

“You know, Winona, the two of us have shared a lot together over the years.” Applejack gazed up to the portrait of her parents on the far wall. “And we've both lost some things along the way.”

Winona nuzzled closer to Applejack’s leg and sighed.

“Somehow, though…” Applejack looked down into Winona’s brown eyes. “...I think we met at just the right time.” She leaned in, placing a soft kiss on the top of Winona’s head.

“Yer a great dog, Winona, but I think you’re an even better friend.”