Applejacks, Baby

November 15, 2025
​Big tropical rain drops plummeted from the sky.

"Why do you suppose Dude decided to set up his horse trap elsewhere?"  Skye asked Grace.

"Respect.  Ha.  Or maybe fear of retaliation" Grace said, smiling.

"I have a hunch I know where it is" Skye said.

The storm had stalled out numerous times.  The heaviest local rainfall was supposed to be over before 9 AM, but it lingered into the afternoon.  At one point, the girls thought they might get a chance to ride, but before they could decide who to ride, it was raining again.  Unlike most rains, this one seemed to be going into the ground, as if the hydrophobic soils had collectively agreed to harvest the water.

Rivulets of water began to come together to fill seasonal streams. Skye's hunch about the new location of Dude's horse trap didn't pan out.  Either he hadn't gotten started yet, or they were in the wrong place.

"This rain is going to foil his plan, isn't it?"  Skye mused.   "There's going to be plenty of new green grass now, and there should be more water too."

"It's going to be a much harder sell, that's for sure."

From the dry comfort of home, Grace leaned over the table, studying an email from the boss on the laptop.  

"What's up?"

"This is weird.  So the boss says Petrichor's original name might be...are you ready for this? Applejacks."

"What?"

"Dude was asking the boss what my horse looked like.  Remember, you told him Petrichor was mine."

"Yes I did!"

"So the boss sent him a picture of Petrichor.  And he said he wondered if that was the one Francis called Applejacks."

"What picture did she show him?"  Grace stepped aside so Skye could see.

"Oh that's one of the boss's pictures."

"Apparently Gramma Francis spent a lot of time with the wild horses, especially the ones born on the property.  And there were a couple of foals that were pretty friendly.  And one in particular that would come right up to her.  So, one day the colt was hanging around, and she was looking for something to give him, and she didn't have anything handy, so she offered him Applejacks.  And he loved them.  And it got to be a thing, where he'd come around looking for Applejacks."

"What are Applejacks?"

"It's a cereal.  You've never had Applejacks?"

"Can you Google it?"

"Kind of like Cheerios"  Skye mused.  "Corn, sugar, food color...I guess we'll need to get a box of Applejacks."

The dogs looked expectantly at Grace and Skye.

"It's an even split, four and four...I guess we both feed" Skye said.

"Ginger Cat is looking at you" Grace replied.

"Yeah but Vinnie is looking at you...it's still a tie."

November 23
"The boss and I were up until 2 AM making these!"  Skye told Grace, tub of cereal cookies in her arms.  "We finally found something to make the honey stop running.  Psyllium powder!  But you have to wait, like an hour at least, for it to thicken up..."

Skye set down the tub of Applejacks blobs and started off to choose some volunteers for her experiment.

"Do you have something easier to carry those in?"  Grace said, with a hint of urgency.

"Sure!"  Skye returned momentarily with a basket.

"Perfect."  Grace swept the cookies into the basket and started out.  "Come on."

Skye was typically in the lead on these excursions, but not today.  Grace was moving with purpose.  Over the rocky terrain to the westerly boundary of the property, and then beyond it.

They saw Thorn first.  Or perhaps she saw them first.  

Thorn changed direction several times, then headed southwest and out of sight.  The girls followed, directly at first, then Grace changed course, hugging the rocks and the sheltered spaces like a predator.  

They could hear the horses in front of them.

Petrichor pawed softly, almost playfully at the shallow rivulet of water.

Green was already emerging in the wake of rain, a mix of grasses and invasive plants, all edible at this tender young stage.  The bay mare and both foals were in the shallow water.  Moonlight Sonata and her colt moved along the drier side of the draw.

Thorn, taking the high road back to the herd, appeared above them in the rocks.

Grace looked into the basket.  Most of the cookies were gone. Just three cookies left.  They would never find the others in a terrain dotted with splashes of yellow and green...but she only needed one.

Skye got Grace's attention.  Pointed with her nose to the opening below them.

Grace made her way out into the open, sandy ground.  And waited.  

The horses would eventually emerge. If the girls had gone undetected, the horses would come out of the draw mares first.  If their presence had been detected, if Thorn conveyed them to the rest of the herd or if their scent gave them away,  Petrichor would come first.

Moments passed.  Petrichor burst into view, trotted like a truly wild stallion on a mission straight toward Grace.

It was always a little...exhilarating...unnerving...

Petrichor sniffed at the cereal cookie for just a moment before embracing it with his lips, then snatching the whole of it into his mouth and devouring it.  Afterwards he raised his head and curled back his lips, like a horse seeking a scent.  And then he turned back to Grace, looking expectantly for another Applejacks cookie.

And that was the universal problem with giving animals treats.  They rather quickly move from expectation to frustration with there are no more treats. 

"Git"  Grace said in a stern voice.

The bay mare began to move off with the herd.  Petrichor rejoined his band.  Once the horses were away, Skye rejoined Grace in the sand wash, and they began a much slower journey back to the ranch.

"Welp"  Skye said, "that was exciting, and you gave new meaning to 'tossing your cookies', but we still haven't proved anything scientifically."

"What do you mean by scientifically?"
"I mean what if ALL horse like Applejacks?  If all horses like Applejacks, then Petrichor may or may not be the stallion Dude suspects he is.  But.  We could always rename his colt, just for fun.  I think that's the one the boss named Tempest.  We could name him Baby Applejacks instead."

"Or Applejacks, Baby..."

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