Barnaby nudges the heavy wicker basket under the big oak tree. The air smells sweet and crisp.
He lifts the lid. Three hungry neighbors peek from behind the barn door, their ears drooping sadly.
Barnaby grabs an apple but stops. He sees their sad faces and frowns deeply.
He takes a huge bite. Juice runs down his chin and stains his pink tummy.
He looks at the messy stain, then at his friends. He thinks about sharing.
Barnaby slices the apples into small pieces. He rolls them across the dirt to the animals.
The chickens cluck happily while the sheep munch on the sweet, juicy wedges.
Barnaby rests his head on his paws, content in the cozy shade of the tree.