From Point of View of ... the horse that gets boxed away and killed... The name's not Bluebell... I think. I'm pretty sure Bluebell's the dog. Sorry folks. I forgot the name already. I just saw this lying around, and thought that it
might provide a light read or something. Finished this long time ago, around 98.
Daylight seeps into my eyes as I awake, expecting to hear Mr. Jones' dreaded boot- steps and see his fat, ugly mug peep through the barn. Frowning, I get up and expect to be led to work carrying a stupid cart up and down a blasted hill. But, looking around the barn I see the other animals... happy... then I remember. We are free.
I toss my messed-up mane over my shoulder and neigh loudly a few times waking the rest of my friends up, then I run out of the barn to the small stream of fresh water and drink. I bask in the field for a while letting the sunshine on me and the wind play with my coarse mane and dirty fur. So this is what freedom tastes like...
Sitting by the stream and hearing the water flow reminds me of so much of the old days. I watch the water push away some flowers that dropped in it and I wonder why I never noticed how beautiful those flowers were. It was probably because I was too busy working to notice. Farmer Jones would never let me drink for long, even after a hard day's work. Always pushing me to my limits and hardly giving me enough time to rest and eat, I never got to see how wonderful my surroundings are. I remember seeing the same grass and flowers but never paid attention to them . Now that I am free, everything is beautiful- the barn, the tress, the mud, even the now-empty house of Jones.
Sadly I recall those horrible years under Jones. He was kind to us before he started drinking this stuff in a bottle. He would bring it home every night and stagger about all over the place. I hope that I shall never see it again, and I probably won't, since now that animals are working together in this farm. That bottle seemed to make him forget important things, like our food. And it made him bad tempered, like the time I accidentally kicked the bucket of milk that, incidentally, was in the way of my stall door, and he whipped me for it. I wouldn't have minded a whipping, but he gave me twenty hard lashes! I still have the scars to prove them and the memory pains me more than the whipping.
Lazily, I go to the barn again and await instructions from Snowball, a smart pig, and our leader. He makes a flowery speech on the rules of the farm, which he calls " commandments " and gets a ladder to write them on the wall. After this is done all of us march to the Manor Farm sign and scratch it off as best as possible and in it's place Snowball writes a most fitting name-" Animal Farm ".
I remember that " Manor Farm " sign. The year after I gave birth to four beautiful young ones Jones took them away from me. When he came back he had some wood, nails and a new hammer. He also came back with two bottles of whisky ( I now know the name of that foul liquid since I asked Snowball what it was ). My babies were gone- Adolf , Karl, Nikolas , and Josef - all were gone. I knew what had happened and I was
angry and frightened and sad. But, I could do nothing. All my comrades go through this as well. Bluebell's ( the dog , bless her soul, may it rest in peace )pups' would have been sold if Jones were around. Come to think of it, I haven't seen any of them around. I think Napoleon took them in. What a sweet pig, taking those pups into his care. He hasn't told anyone about it, but he obviously has a surprise planned. I LOOOOVE surprises.
Anyway, aside from Bluebell, there are also the cows. Jones also took their young ones away. As for the other animals, when the sheep or hens outlive their ' usefulness ' they will be brought by Jones somewhere and never come back. I shudder to think what has happened to them.
I know that work will still be plentiful, but we will all do it together. We will not be forced to work by a worthless human incapable of doing anything but threaten and whip. We will make this farm live up to it's name and later set other animals free. Then, like in the song Old Major ( bless his soul, may it rest in peace ) taught us , all of our comrades will be free from man and do as they please. Life will be so much better now that the tyranny of Jones has ended. No animal shall be sacrificed for idiotic purposes, no animal shall be better than the other, no animal shall ever kill another, and all animals will live together in harmony away from man. Life will be so wonderful. How can it not be?