The rampaging wolves, brothers of White that kept invading the centre of the farm and killing animals in retaliation for their property being stolen, were becoming bolder. Whereas in the past they would disappear into thin air and be silent until their next attack, they now made public statements about why they attacked animals. White dismissed the people who claimed that the rampaging wolves were equal to the wild dogs on the eastern edge of the north of the farm. “They are just playing,” he said. “They like to play rough, my wolf brothers. Everything will be ok.”
And the Whitist priests swore that these wolves were not White’s brothers. They swore that the wild wolves were foreign wolves. And all the Whitists agreed.
Meanwhile, throughout the farm and in many farms around, a great celebration broke out. This celebration happened to coincide with animals questioning why White would raise the cost of water in the farm and what he had been doing in the one year since he became farm manager. The anniversary of his taking over was close and there was a need to show evidence that it was worth it dumping Goodhead and his criminal farm hands.
There were clear achievements that White could claim. Many of the sheep, lamb, swans and ducks that had been abducted by wild dogs in the north of White’s farm were gradually being discovered or rescued by his farm hands. But this was not the cause of the wild celebrations.
Groups of animals had in fact been protesting the way these rabid dogs operated. One prominent group, led by a German shepherd, A Sex, was created in response to a particular raid when Goodhead was farm manager which saw a few hundred lambs herded away violently by the rabid dogs. A Sex barked loudly throughout the farm to raise awareness about the plight of these lambs. Goodhead hated this German shepherd and thought that it was all an attempt to undermine him.
A Sex refused to be distracted by anyone. Not even by the herding away of other sheep, the killing of lambs and the stealing of swans and ducks that the rabid dogs continued to do after those particular lambs were taken. Sheep and swans and ducks were affected, yes. Even other lambs. But A Sex insisted: the focus was on the return of lambs. Not any lambs. Those particular lambs. A Sex’s lambs. Bring back my lambs, A Sex cried. “The lambs are a metaphor for all animals taken,” A Sex insisted.
Now, a lamb - one of A Sex’s lambs - had been found by White’s farm hands. Tailors were called in, veterinarians, animal photographers, and horses to carry this lamb from animal quarter to animal quarter. The German shepherd praised the gods of his animal ancestors for bringing this lamb home. And the photographers took photos. And the horses galloped from one place to another with the lamb. And the veterinarians drew the lamb’s blood to check for diseases. This lamb was the reason for all the celebrations.
And all the other sheep and lambs (not belonging to A Sex) and ducks and swans that were recently rescued from the wild dogs (and subsequently ignored) looked on in amazement at the treatment this special lamb was getting. And they wished they were A Sex’s lambs.
Shortly thereafter another lamb was rescued alongside 96 other sheep and swans and ducks. The lamb closely resembled one of A Sex’s lost lambs. And voices rose preparing for celebration. And photographers came out, dusting their cameras. And horses were prepared. But it turned out the lamb was just another lamb rescued from wild dogs. And A Sex and all the photographers and all the horses paused. And they swore that they cared as they walked away.
“We care about you lamb, but you were not the one we were waiting for. You were only a false alarm. Now move out of the way in case A Sex’s lamb shows up. We need good photos.”
Down in the crocodile quarters of White’s farm, the leader of the farm Sir Na Gajere and one of the crocodile elders Goshi Mai Rakumi were having a big fight in the swamps. Goshi Mai Rakumi was angry that Sir Na Gajere was plotting to have him kicked out of the committee of crocodile elders. He ranted and raved and swore that there was nothing Sir Na could do. He said that Sir Na was only jealous of him because he was taller than him. The crocodiles, struggling to find food were too tired to take sides in this fight between elders. All they wanted was food.
And White prepared for his first anniversary as farm manager.
And the photographers kept telling stories of A Sex’s single lamb that was recently rescued.
And other rescued animals continued to look on in silence.
And the volunteers working on the gargantuan statue of White to mark his first year as farm manager worked tirelessly.
And Whitist worshippers all across the farm chanted in unison:
In the name of the White father
And of the farm hands
And of the holy Whitists…
Bless us White for we have sinned
Bless our thoughts
Bless our desires
Bless our intentions
Blessed be thy name
Thy will be done in every quarter among every animal species
Teach us to love your will
Teach us to be teachable
Teach us to trust your will even when your will may not be clear
Teach us to defend your will before it becomes your will
For thine are the decisions, the thoughts and the glory
For as long as you choose to be farm leader