Freedom Farm rang with the clatter of heavy bells and deep loud calls from long trumpets. The crowd watching the parade cheered loudly and clapped incessantly. Everyone looked to be having a wonderful time, evidenced by the smiling, laughing faces, both of those in the parade and those lining the edges of the brand-new square recently constructed especially for the celebrations.
The grand parade was headed by a large sleek boar whose mass was emphasized by the fact that he walked on his two hind legs, as did all the other pigs who followed close behind. They made an impressive sight to all the onlookers, who felt diminished and awestruck as their leaders passed. The group of pigs was flanked by lithe, muscular brown dogs that stood the height of a small pony. The two head dogs, Ivan and Edgar, walked beside the lead pig, each holding the ends of a banner that read, Freedom Farm – celebrating 75 years of opportunity for all.
Gathered in a tight bunch beside the barn, a group of young animals observed the parade under the watchful eye of their teacher, a pig named Aesop. A clutch of tiny chicks popped out from under the barn door and scurried around at the front of the assemblage for several minutes before tucking themselves into small gaps between the sheep and snuggling into their soft wool coats. A ginger cat sat on the roof just above them, eyes half shut as though uninterested in the proceedings. As the large group of pigs walked past, one of the lambs asked who they all were. Aesop looked at the scene with pride and answered, “At the head of the parade is our esteemed leader, Alexander. He’s the one wearing the blue suit with the silver tie.” The young animals could clearly see he was different from the other pigs, who all wore black suits, white shirts and blue ties. “He’s our leader because we have elected him to be our leader, because here at Freedom Farm we fought for the rights of every animal. That is what we are celebrating today. It is seventy-five years since our great rebellion of ‘55, when we took over the running of the farm and sent the humans to live in the cities. Inspired by the great idealist, Snowflake, who was the leader of the first great rebellion in 1955, animals all over the world began to take over their farms from their human captors. Snowflake taught that all animals are entitled to equal opportunity. He led rebellions everywhere and Alexander is descended from him.”
One of the calves, an innocent Friesian named Verity, tilted her head thoughtfully before asking, “Can I be a leader one day?”
Aesop smiled and patted the young calf on the head with his trotter. “Every animal has equal opportunity.”
A lamb bleated. “Has a sheep ever been one of the leaders?”
“No, Rachael,” laughed Aesop. “Our leaders have always been pigs because pigs are more intelligent than sheep.” He looked towards the parade. “Besides,” he said, “no other animal can walk on two feet.”
The lamb knew this was completely true and returned to watching the parade. Behind the pigs came a small group of goats, looking very scientific in their pure white coats, with polished horns and distinguished beards. They carried an air of knowledge and understanding between them. “Who are they?” asked a foal sitting at the back of the group. His name was Solomon, a large foal for his age, gentle and friendly and much liked by all the other young animals.
“The one walking in front of all the others is Archimedes. He’s a highly intelligent and important member of our farm. In fact,” said Aesop, bouncing with excitement, “you will all be very privileged next week when he comes to visit our little schoolroom to talk to you.”
“What’s he going to talk about?” asked the foal.
“Very important matters,” said Aesop. He quickly returned his attention to the parade, stretching his neck and bobbing from side to side as though in search of something. “Look! Here comes your mother.”
The seated foal lurched onto his long legs and strained his gaze in the direction Aesop was pointing. His short fluffy tail flapped uncontrollably in circular motion as he exclaimed in delight, “There’s my mum, there’s my mum!”
Behind the goats came a group of horses, led by Millie, an eight-year-old mare who loved all things shiny. She wore a multitude of pink ribbons in her mane and tail, and around her neck she had adorned herself with several silver necklaces of various thickness and style. As she walked, she lifted her hooves high and flicked them back so the sunlight would glint on her new metallic pink shoes. The foal whinnied out to her as she passed. Millie held her head high and shook her mane quite vainly. She flicked her hooves even more dramatically as she passed the youngsters, causing all her necklaces to jangle. The other horses came more quietly behind, taking slow steady strides to keep to the pace set by the pigs.
The horses were followed by the cows, all wearing large bells around their necks which rang without melody, adding to the calamity of sounds from hooves, horns, trumpets and bells, and the noise of the crowd. They, too, had to lope along, ensuring they avoided a crush that would cause a concertina effect on the whole parade. Behind them, the sheep were able to walk at a more normal pace. Their fleeces were washed and fluffed to perfection, their faces clean and their hooves neatly trimmed.
At the rear came two dozen chickens, chosen by means of a raffle to gain their place in the parade as representatives of their sector of the farm community. They waddled along at a decent pace, pulling a small wooden cart using lengths of cord held in the beaks of each chicken. The cart was piled high with golden eggs that shone brightly in the late summer sunshine.
“Oh look!” exclaimed one of the lambs, pointing to the cart. “Why are the eggs gold?”
Aesop grinned down at the lamb. “They represent our prosperity.”
“What’s prosperity?” asked another lamb.
Aesop pulled himself up straight and stared across the square. “Having everything you want,” he said.
The young animals remained wide-eyed at his answer as they watched the parade continue around the square multiple times. Everyone was cheering enthusiastically, some calling out to family members as they passed and waving their flags energetically. Eventually Alexander led the procession away from the crowd and disappeared behind the giant storage barn, where he thanked all the participants and dismissed them, then headed into the great White Lodge, followed closely by his retinue of pigs.
The rest of the animals returned to the public square to join their loved ones and partake in a great feast organised by the celebration committee. A group of assigned animals opened the doors of the giant storage barn where a section had been laid out with every delicious treat imaginable. Put low on the floor, in special containers made specifically for the occasion, was every grain a chicken could want, including sunflower seeds, corn kernels and flax seeds. Available for everyone’s enjoyment was a plethora of vegetables and fruits: apples, lettuce, turnips, strawberries, eggplants, cucumbers, melons, carrots, beets, sprouts, squash, pears and much, much more. Set higher for the cows and horses were specially made bays containing hay and oats. In the centre was a long table decorated with bunting and helium balloons gathered in two large bunches. The table hosted an excess of treats: sugar mice, lamingtons, trifle, cookies, chocolate buttons, jelly, and in the centre sat a giant, five-tiered cake, decorated with green frosting and covered in white stars. A silver number seventy-five sat proudly on the top of the cake. Despite there being plenty of food — enough for everyone’s fill — the animals made a rush at all the treats and soon a state of chaos existed, during which some of the animals were bitten.
This excessive feast was possible because the animals had mechanised the farm over the years, constructing many buildings to house refrigerators for year-round food storage. They had taught themselves how to run machinery to make harvesting different foods an easy task, and more buildings were needed to store their bumper harvests. Every year, for the last few decades, they had succeeded in growing record quantities of food, thanks to modern machinery, new methods and special fertilisers. Originally, they had fertilised the fields with their own waste, but this method had long since been forgotten when a clever pig named Stan Moon began importing special fertilisers from a neighbouring farm. Now they grew more food than they needed, which was a very good thing, because they sold their excess food to the humans, who lived in the cities and were so completely overcrowded they had no means of growing food and were therefore totally reliant on the farms for their survival. The pigs negotiated with the humans and received money in exchange for food, and the money was used to buy goods from other farms.
All the animals on the farm knew without question that the pigs were the cleverest among them because at election time they produced written evidence that they continually worked hard to manage the farm in the most profitable way. The pigs printed up flyers which were distributed among the entire population, listing statistic after statistic proving the farm was producing more each year, sold more each year and created more wealth and prosperity per head than ever before. Convinced that their lives were truly blessed, the animals voted the pigs back into office at every election.
While the feast was taking place inside the big barn, the pigs sat themselves down in the grand dining room of the lodge. Alexander took off his silver tie and draped it over the arm of his chair. The other pigs sat in their respective places at the long mahogany table that was all laid out with a silver service and loosened their own ties. Alexander rang a small bell that was placed near his wine glasses and a line of sheep filed into the room bearing platters of steaming hot food. The table was soon groaning with the weight of cooked meats, steamed vegetables, jugs of sauces and baskets of freshly baked bread rolls. In the middle was placed a large platter of truffles that had been specially brought in from a farm on the other side of the continent. Its arrival immediately agitated the noses of all the pigs, some of whom began to drool.
Edgar and Ivan loped around the edges of the room, their heads lowered to the level of the sheep’s eyes, causing those poor creatures to become nervous. As soon as their burdens were offloaded the sheep filed tensely out of the room, the two dogs close behind them. After they were satisfied that all the sheep were out of the room and heading back to the kitchen, the double-doors to the dining room were shut and the dogs took up their positions as sentries.
The pigs tucked into their anniversary fodder, and for a solid fifteen minutes none of them were able to speak. When at last all the food had disappeared, Alexander sat back in his chair, belched loudly and grinned at his colleagues. “The fruits of our labours,” he said.
A few of the pigs chuckled.
Alexander drew in his chin and narrowed his eyes, causing the other pigs to shuffle in their seats. He focused his attention on a hairy black pig and said, “Grunter! Tell us how the food situation is.”
Grunter tried to appear relaxed. He sat back in his chair and gave a nonchalant look in Alexander’s direction. “Thanks to my new fertilisers we can produce more food per hectare than ever before. Our modern methods surpass anything to be found on any farm around the world.”
“What about expansion?” demanded Alexander.
Grunter looked briefly at Alexander before his eyes darted from one pig to another around the table. “In the past twelve months we have acquired three neighbouring farms. This has expanded our possible food production by 280% and increased our storage and production facilities by 87%. The acquisitions have also added a possible 92% to our water storage capabilities.”
“Good. Good.” Alexander nodded slowly. “The acquisitions would also have increased our borders.” Border protection was the responsibility of the dogs, who patrolled the outskirts of the farm day and night. The coordination of the patrols and their effectiveness lay with the two head dogs, Edgar and Ivan. Alexander gave a shrill whistle which was immediately responded to by the dogs sitting outside the door. They entered quietly and sat to attention, side by side, looking directly at Alexander.
“Has extra border protection been attended to since the expansion of the farm?” demanded Alexander.
Ivan spoke first. “Yes, Sir. New recruits were trained up immediately and posted to their specific areas as soon as we were able.”
“Are there any weak spots?” asked Alexander.
Edgar gave the answer. “No, Sir. We have identified any areas of risk and altered the initial threat of 64% likelihood to an 89% guarantee of protection.”
“I want 100%,” yelled Alexander, slamming his trotter down on the table.
Ivan and Edgar dropped to the floor and bowed their heads.
“Get out!” said Alexander through gritted teeth. He looked around the table at all the other pigs, took a deep breath and with a smile put freshly on his face he more quietly addressed a large pig seated next to him. “Chester, old pal, I gather, since I have not received any complaints from you, that the buildings on our more recently acquired land have suited your purpose.”
Chester chuckled, causing his great hide to wobble. He grinned at Alexander. “Everything is running very smoothly. I’d prefer to pay you less rent though, Alexander.”
The two boars chuckled and wobbled in unison. “Let me know if you need more buildings. I’m sure we can accommodate you by building some more,” said Alexander.
“At a good rent?” responded Chester, looking askance at Alexander.
Alexander merely grinned broadly in reply. He took a drink of ale from his crystal glass and for a few moments the rest of the pigs relaxed as they believed Alexander’s mood to have improved. Brutus, sitting at Alexander’s right, was next on the leader’s hit list. “What, would you say, is the summary of Freedom Farm’s success this past year?” he asked.
Brutus looked smug as he calmly took two cigars from his inside coat pocket and offered one to Alexander, who was quick to take it. They both casually took their time to light their cigars and sat back in their chairs puffing intently. Everyone at the table was aware Brutus and Alexander had known each other as long as anyone could remember, but hardly anyone knew the two were brothers. Eventually Brutus began his summation. “As our distinguished guest, Grunter,” he nodded in Grunter’s direction, “has already informed us today, food production and water supplies are almost certainly assured. We are on track to produce bumper harvests, ensuring a surplus of about 200% which will be used for trade with the humans, whose requirements are increasing an average of 1.3% per annum. We have other farms also interested in trading with us. Just last week Island Farm suffered a freak storm and tsunami that wiped out their food reserves. I see some profits to be made there.” Brutus chuckled and the other pigs joined in.
He puffed on his cigar and blew a smoke ring before continuing. “Snow Farm enjoyed rather too much of its namesake last year when a blizzard lasting seven days damaged their food supplies, and they haven’t been able to recover. They’re starting to ask for help.” Brutus tilted his head to the side and his eyes became even beadier than normal. “I think we can help,” he said with a curl at the corner of his lip. After a brief pause to take a few more puffs of his cigar, Brutus drawled on for another twenty minutes, giving statistics as to the state of their economy, with every aspect producing record profits and ever-improving percentages. All the pigs at the table were suitably impressed, but what made them happiest was the acquisition of the three neighbouring farms, which had brought with them not only the land and resources, but more animals. To the pigs at the table, more animals meant more profits, and that meant more money in their own pockets.
When Brutus had finished delivering his statistical account of the farm, Alexander ordered dessert to be served and the pigs indulged in a second feast, this time of cakes and sweets and all things sugary. When they finished their celebratory feed, Alexander raised his glass in a toast. “To Freedom Farm!”
