A Most Immaculate Day On the Prairie, With Tony And His Wild Apples

Good morning y'all, it's jack the cowboy, here on the windswept prairie with the warm sun caressing my back. But don't get confused, my back ain't for lack of excitement in this here neck of the woods, no sir-it's been sore since my courage blessed me with a brave enough heart to rescue my ma from a particularly rambunctious bull when I was young. Ain't been the same since.

Anyways, I waking up early with that familiar energy of anticipation coursing through my veins. I have a feelin' it's gonna be special, even more so than other days, and something up ahead a loooong way off is calling out my name. I could feel it, and my children, having heard the stories of all the wild others of the prairie, cajole me into seeing who, or what, is calling out to me.

Living on the prairie with nine rugrats must be the closest thing to mad-cappy, but I'm so lucky to experience the love, laughter, and adventure of us all together. I know I must get going if I'm to make it back for the next meal, but I've never been one for allowing rules to get in the way of a chance to learn or be amazed. So, off I go.

Long I walked along the familiar terrain, until the sun began to drop in the east, casting a long stretch of shadow along my path. I nearly stumbled into what was a scene none of us had ever seen before-Tony, a peculiar wild apples tree thought to only grow in heavily wooded areas, in an itty bitty clearing with one single red apple hanging in its branches. I was so pleasantly surprised I nearly shouted out for joy.

My little'uns, curious and eager for something exciting, nearly all leapt to grabbing the delicious looking apple when I told them to, and as I picked up that fallen red beauty I was stopped in my tracks. No, it wasn't the sweet irresistible taste that gave me pause but the visions in my head-Visions of Tony and the likes of wild horses, buffalo, and other curious critters from far and wide, all coming to share in the nourishment of this one special apple. I couldn't believe it, and I shared the story with my children, who loved it just as I had.

My feet blazing, I hurried us all back to the homestead. We know better than to go too far afield around twilight, especially without knowing how to find our way back. We know something wild could be waiting on the path, and that's not something any of us are foolish enough to tangle with.

And so the story of Tony and his wild apples ends for now, but I'm sure another's coming to take its place. After nine of my own children, I'm used to the unexpected. I'm an extraordinary joggler, can tie over 500 distinct knots, and although I cannot prove it, I believe I can communicate with cows telepathically. Heck, even if my kin don't believe me, I knows it's true.

Until the next tale, friends- Thank y'all for joinin' me!

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