A sort of sideways silly look at life on the Apples farm, about how they might have animals to provide meat for the communities non-vegetarian residence. Specifically how various critters meet their demise at the hooves of AJ, Bigmac and Granny Smith. These three short chapters are a twitter reward for 300 followers.
"This one’s not laying no more," called Apple Bloom, her muzzle appearing around the side of the chicken coop.
Applejack frowned, "Chase it out here so I can get a good look at the critter."
Soon she heard the sound of small hooves on wooden planking, followed by squawking and angry clucking. Waiting patiently in the early morning sun, AJ wondered how old the bird was. Was it past its best? Before she could work it out a ball of feathers blasted through the hen house door and made for the gate. Realising the gate wasn’t shut properly, she bucked it shut, but far too late.
"Woah!" Exclaimed Apple Bloom as she studied the decapitated head lying next to the gate, its eyes wide and beak open. "That was amazing. Let’s try another one."
"No can do, little sis. We need as many eggs as we can get."
Giving the gate a good tug, it opened with a jolt, immediately freeing the larger half of the chicken. Upon release, the chicken made a dash along its original escape route, now completely blind due to its missing head. It got up quite a velocity before crashing into a water trough, a trail of blood marking its course.
Apple Bloom studied its adventure with fascination. "They say a chicken can live for weeks without its head if you feed it with a funnel."
"Why in tarnation would we want to do that fer? It already stopped layin'."
The commotion had already attracted the attention of Winona, who sped into the yard to check out the fun. She could smell the blood and made straight for the chicken currently running in circles around the farm yard. One good crunch of bone and she was off with the bird, one wing dragging uselessly on the ground as she headed into the nearest hidey-hole with it.
"Well," mused Applejack, "I guess we don't need to kill anything else for a few days. If’n there’s anything left, I’ll send it on for Gummi. Now, you'd best get your butt to school afore y'all is late!"
"That critter’s past its best," called Applejack from the side of the meadow.
Big Mac had been scything off the worst of the weeds in a bid to give the grass a chance to grow in the dry summer air. He knew what was coming and sighed heavily.
"Yep."
It had been his job since he was young to sort out the animals that were really sick or injured. If he could fix them up, it was a feather in his personal cap. If he couldn't, then things weren't quite so rewarding. He followed AJ to the pig sty.
"That one thure, the old sow. I wouldn't ask, but..."
Between them they had split the work load up as best they could. Big jobs like planting new crops and harvesting were shared equally, but for other stuff they played to their strengths. As AJ was the chatty one, she ran the apple stand on market days, holidays, and special occasions. If there was a big cart load of apples to take any distance, it fell to Big Mac.
Applejack was right on this one though, even if he wished she wasn't. The old pig she pointed to was nearly off its feet and clearly in some considerable pain. It was hardly unreasonable given her age and the harsh winter they had all just endured.
The red stallion picked up a bucket of slop and led the hungry old sow toward the farm pond. He felt like he had known her all his life and it had certainly been for all of hers. She’d been the runt of the litter, and he’d been given her to look after when he was a foal. Maybe they thought it would be good practice, and if it didn't work out it, was no real loss.
Contrary to expectations, he had taken very good care of the piglet, staying up all that first night to feed it regularly and keep it warm. Maybe this was what brought on the special bond between them over the many years that followed. It wasn't unusual for the colt to come home from school and sneak her out of the pig pen before chores.
As he carried the bucket in his mouth, he thought back to the fun they’d had chasing each other around the orchard. But time had moved on, and the idle fun of youth had turned into a long list of farm work that left him with no free time.
Before he knew it, he was standing in the cool water, watched carefully by the aged sow. He knew it couldn't end any other way and if he didn't do it, then AJ would. Somehow that seemed wrong. He placed the bucket down and watched as the sow’s happy face disappeared into the bucket.
Positioning himself to the side, he drew in his back legs, lined himself up, and bucked as hard as he could. The sound of breaking bone sounded like a tree snapping. His large hooves caught her a mid-rift, collapsing her rib cage and knocking her into the water. She was made of stern stuff and a kick that would have killed a larger animal merely stunned her. Her labourer breaths came rapidly as her confused eyes looked up at her life-long friend for answers. He had none as he sat down next to her.
Reaching out a hoof, he stroked her head delicately in a bid to comfort her. This felt like the worst betrayal, but he couldn't let her suffer. The final act was simple enough as his eyes glazed over. Pressing her head into the soft mud, he pushed her snout under the water. She barely twitched as the bubbles became less frequent, until they finally stopped completely. Turning, he saw Applejack close by.
"I'll take it from here," she said.
Big Mac got up slowly, water and blood dripping from his coat. Giving a half-hearted shake, he wandered toward the orchard to ponder how simple life used to be.
Granny Smith had been quite the talent with a lasso back in the day. It took practice as well as precision, but to be top notch, it also needed flexibility. Unfortunately, time had eroded agility, and now she struggled to snare a fence post.
Luckily, age brought knowledge as well as experience, and few were more adaptable than the old mare. Her salvation had arrived in the form of a large crossbow from one of the better catalogues. It came with a hoof winch as well as a clean release motion, so anypony could fire it. With that crossbow she was back in the roundup.
For best effect, old Mrs Apple would wait for sick critters to walk past the porch where she sat snoozing on her rocker. Having animals screaming around the farm with crossbow bolts sticking out of them wasn't on though, so she had upgraded it to a mini harpoon.
A length of rope now led from the bolt and up over the hand rail to a coil on the floor. The free end was securely tied to a stout stake hammered deep into the ground. Originally it was tied to the rocker, but initial testing had seen granny 'chair-skiing' behind an injured cow. Apple Bloom had learned many new words that day!
Another plan that had failed was herding animals past the house so Granny could pick off the weak ones. This kicked up a lot of dust, obscuring the already poor vision of the old dear. Applejack’s hat had found itself skewered to a nearby tree, at which point she refused to help ever again.
Right now, one of the neighbours goats was walking across the front yard toward the pond. Being a newbie to the farm, it was oblivious to the killing zone avidly avoided by their own animals and the postmare. Creeping forward, Granny Smith rested the end of the weapon on the hand rail.
Twang!
The goat made a run for it, but the barbed bolt was deeply embedded in its neck. Turning for home, it soon reached the end of the rope and made a half back flip as the tether tightened. Granny was already half loaded with a broad-head bolt which she kept razor sharp. Gauging her mark between its leaps she caught it in the back of the neck, severing the spinal cord.
"Yea haw!" She shouted, dancing a stiff jig as the goat fell silent.
It was at that moment that AJ and Apple Bloom hurried around the corner.
"Wow, Granny! You sure stung that critter good!" beamed Apple Bloom.
AJ didn't look so pleased. "What in the hay do ya think ya doin'? That ain't even one of ours! Apple Bloom, get it dragged into the barn before somepony squeals on us and don't let Winona have none. I don't want her turnin' up at ours neighbours back door with the leg off their best goat!"
Granny tutted, grumbled something about "back in my day," and went into the farm house.
Sweetie Bell looked up at the huge machine with some concern. Apple Bloom was currently stood at the controls with her rear legs in the steering stirrups and front hooves playing with various levers and buttons.
"Can't be that hard to drive this critter. My sister were all over it like bees on a flower and it says here that'n it's so easy to work that 'even a foal can drive'. Look, there's even a picture."
Sweety Bell caught the instruction book in her magic and studied the cover. It did indeed have the caption with a nice art work of a colt driving the machine across a field. "Well, I guess it can't be that hard if a colt can do it. You do a lap around the yard first and then I can try."
Opening the book to the first page she began to study the index, but was interrupted by whirling noises from inside the belly of the machine. Looking up she saw an expression of sheer delight on Apple Blooms face who was still busy pulling various levers.
Eventually the small filly found the right combination and took off with a lurch across the farm yard. All was going well as she trundled across the cobbles as though she knew what she was doing. Her expression soon turned to deep concentration as she made best efforts to turn before they ran out of space. To Sweety Bells surprise the heavy piece of equipment kept going in a straight line until there was no time left to turn.
The fence did nothing to dissuade the rampaging beast, but the shallow ditch on the other side did. This new violent route threw the panicked filly sideways toward one of the large metal drive wheels. In response she made a desperate attempt to hang on via any means possible. With her body lurching toward a good mangling it was all she could do to grab the largest control lever available.
It was a poor choice...
That one fateful lever made all the difference to the situation and was conspicuously obvious, as it was the one used most often. With hoof tensed and mouth wide open she arrested her fall by pulling the speed control to maximum.
With near instant response the wheels dug in hard, throwing up lumps of grass as the tractor launched itself from the ditch. Apple Bloom screamed as her left rear hoof slipped from the drive stirrup, leaving it waving uselessly. The machine instantly made a sharp left hand turn while still pulling a 'wheely'. It made two full rotations before she successfully slammed her foot back down.
Looking wide eyed along it's bonnet she now had the whole length of field to figure out what to do next. As long as the cows moved she was probably home free?....
Sweety Bell was now fully engaged in events and was screaming advice read from the booklet. "Check the oil and the Lug nuts before moving off!"
Apple Bloom spared a second to turn and shout back, "Page five, Page five, forget page one, I need to stop this monster!"
Far off in the middle of the field the day was progressing at a slower pace. Mrs Dandelion was the last to move. She had seen a lot of the comings and going around the Apple's farm over the years. The Apple family had always kept her safe and there was no reason to assume today was any different. It was true that the little one did crazy noisy stuff, but even she had always appeared to wish the best for cow-kind.
Luckily most of the herd wasn't so convinced and legged it in all directions with gusto. With tails and hooves flailing they easily outran the newcomer to the farm. The frantic cries of; "Git outta the way," certainly helped.
Apple Bloom realised she needed to take evasive action as soon as the only remaining animal was the one in her path. Mr's D had the same thought at the same moment and broke left just as Apple Bloom released the left stirup, making a sharp left turn....
Left, right, moo, left, moo, shriek. It looked as though it might work, but several times the cow snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. Eventually fate won out and Mrs dandelion disappeared out of view under the front of the machine.
Although she fitted under the front she didn't fit under the back and machine heaved upward as it's metal spiked wheels climbed over her body. Apple Bloom just managed to ram the speed lever fully forward into the stop position as she was thrown clear. Landing in a heap she turned to see the tractor come to a sedate stop just past the unfortunate bovine.
Sweetie Bell came cantering across the field to admire the situation. She opened the booklet with her magic and placed it in front of her friend. "Page Two is all about the speed lever," she beamed.
