7/28/2019 Short rewrite of a classical story: Animal Farm by Zheng Jiayin

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It happened that Jessie and Bluebell had both whelped soon after the hay harvest,

giving birth between them to nine sturdy puppies. As soon as they were weaned,

Napoleon took them away from their mothers, saying that he would make himself

responsible for their education. He took them up into a loft which could only be

reached by a ladder from the harness-room, and there kept them in suchseclusion that the rest of the farm soon forgot their existence.

- Excerpt fromAnimal Farm

It had been barely a month following our birth when a dark cloven hoof came and

swiped us away from our mothers side. I was half-asleep, then, nestled between my

slumbering siblings, and in my hazy view glimpsed Aunt Bluebell in conversation with a

stout pig. His words were unfamiliar, but possessed an air which forbade discussion.

The next 10 months were spent in a dimly-lit wooden space which Commander

Napoleon called our home. He was a tough master, putting us under a physically

taxing daily regime; but the promise of growing into good, strong protectors of our chief

one day a common goal for all of us kept us through the grind without complaint.

However, in these exercises, I often fell far short of the other pups. I just couldnt run

fast enough, react quick enough or snarl with a convincing tone of menace. There was

no outright teasing, though, nary a disparaging glance from the pups, but the feeling of

inadequacy never went away.

What proved most disheartening was the Commanders lack of notice whenever our

master lined us up for commendations and reviews of the day, I was inevitably the one

his eyes glazed over. At times I even began to question my purpose here, but any doubts

I had were quickly allayed by guilt and an overriding sense of duty. So I ploughed on,

and watched as time went by my siblings and cousins transform into the ferocious,

ruthless dogs we were trained to become; something I envied yet felt strangely removed

from.

Often, when everyone else was asleep, I would take long walks by myself along the edge

of the room feeling my way from one wall to another, and to another. On one occasion,my paws lightly grazed a jagged patch on the ground; which upon closer inspection

turned out to be the tiniest of cracks overlooking a lighted room below. A study, it

seemed, for a lone pig with his head buried in books. I watched him intently. Reading

was my favourite activity dogs pick up reading fairly quickly but we werent

provided with much to read, and hardly anyone was interested in learning anything

beyond the first words we were taught. This pig, on the other hand, projected a fervent

delight in reading, and had access to such a wide array of books that I wished I could

find my way into that room and leaf through the books he had set aside.

7/28/2019 Short rewrite of a classical story: Animal Farm by Zheng Jiayin

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But I couldnt, so I had to contend with watching instead. Every night, I crept up to that

spot and observed him silently from the ground above watching as he scribbled lines

of writing on the face of thick volumes; as he seized a piece of chalk and marked the

wooden floor with a series of unfathomable but very arresting diagrams; and as his

countenance transformed from grave reflection to an ecstatic, almost crazed, excitement.I did not know his name, nor could I understand what he was doing, but I was caught up

in euphoria as well for the first time ever, I felt connected to somebody, no matter how

remote that somebody might be.

The next day, Commander Napoleon lined us up again and gave final instructions for a

forthcoming vote. The opponent he will vie against a pig named Snowball has a way

of manipulating general sentiment with appealing language, so we were ordered to

spring out at the opportune moment if things do not look well for the Commander, and

finish off the adversary. All of us were prepared for a violent end then we could not

fully know what we were up against and our masters word was unequivocal. We, as

his guards, would protect his interests and quash any dissenter without mercy.

*

At the Commanders high-pitched signal, we came tearing into the barn. Then the

identity of our target became heartbreakingly clear and I was nailed to the spot. The

pig!I couldnt kill him! But, oblivious to my distress, the rest hurtled forward, and were

now mere inches behind him.

No, master has to give a signal to make them stop! I thought and tore in reversedirection towards the Commander. His countenance changed as I pounded his torso,

howling and pleading. Yet the signal to stop did not come, so I clung on. I was faintly

aware of inflicting injury upon the Commander but still I clung on. I could not let the

pig die! After failing to pry my claws free, master let out a shrill cry, and all the dogs

stopped mid-track in their chase after Snowball came running round.

After that, there was a flurry of claws and teeth, and no one was sure what he was

attacking anymore.

Horrified by the scene, the barn animals rushed forward to break off the tussle; and asthe wounded parties stepped aside, several bloodied bodies lay in their midst.

Among them rested the body of a large, rather fierce-looking Berkshire boar now

forever quiet.

Zheng Jiayin

HZ101 Creative Writing