funny,” Julius said to Bruce at the water tank. “All these years, and I thought it was a unicorn. The great Prophet Muhammad was the only guy of all of humanity who could tame that unruly, wily unicorn. And as the last unicorn rose into the heavens, so, too, did Muhammad, riding into the clouds on its horn. Shows you what I know. What I know from these true stories is who’s the greater prophet, Jesus or Muhammad? Jesus, of course. Not only is Jesus God’s gift to man, but Jesus! Even after being nailed to the cross all day, Jesus ascended of his own volition. Whereas, Muhammad, whether on the back of his favorite steed or on the horn of that unruly unicorn, had to hitch a ride. That’s all the proof I need to prove that Jesus rocks!
“Bruce, when I die, I hope to have a wing and a prayer, so I, too, may make my way into the clouds above. But if not, I’ll take an elevator. What say, you, my old friend?”
“I’ll fly,” Bruce said.
“Oh, really,” Julius said, flapping his massive wings. “I didn’t know you had wings?”
“I’ll grow a pair.”
Julius, who was rarely at a loss for words, didn’t say a word.
When the afternoon sun glinted off Boris’s white tusks, it scared the flocks, who flocked to Howard, even though by now they knew he was the heretic of the great heresy.
“Stop,” Mel said from the barn. “What are you afraid of? The sun of God alights on the tusks of the Boar, and you don’t know this is a glorious thing? Go back to the fold where you belong, and life ever-after is promised.” Some turned back, but others did not. The animals who turned back toward Boris were not enough to please Mel.
Howard said, “There is no fornicating that leads to procreating. If you engage in such sinful activities, you fornicate protected. However, it remains a sin against nature, a curse of the loins from Satan.”
Mel stepped out from the barn into the sun.
Howard said, “As our numbers fade from the earth, man will lose interest in us as a food source, and will eventually leave us alone as he, too, fades from the earth.”
“Yeah, like that will ever happen,” snorted a porker.
The domesticated farm animals turned and ran for Boris.
“Have you heard some of the shit that comes out of that pig’s mouth?” Bruce said.
“You mean Howard? I like Howard,” Julius said. “He means well. If they have to follow someone, at least he’s not going to take them over a cliff.”
“You like something?” Mel said as he approached the water tank. “I didn’t think you liked anything.”
“I like a lot of things,” Julius said, “but a mule’s ass in my face isn’t one of them.”
Mel took a long drink. When he finished, he jerked his head, spewing water over his shoulders and backside as he trotted off in a huff to the barn.
“Well, that was rather belligerent, don’t you think?”
“I try not to,” Bruce said.
“How belligerent,” Julius said. “He’s so belligerent.”
“He has God on his side.”
“I hear they’re best friends, like us.”
“These pigs are nuts,” Bruce snorted. “They argue different sides of the same coin.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Julius said. “I’m afraid nothing’s going to change much with these fools, and the fools they’ll follow to the ends of the earth.”
“Who clipped your wings?”
“I’m going to have to teach these farm animals a lesson.”
“And what would that be that you already haven’t?”
“I’ll teach them a song.”
“Oh, a song. That’ll teach them.”
“A song I learned from Pete Seeger when I lived in the big house with the Commie Jewish bastards. It might do them some good someday.”
“Who?” Bruce said. “The Commie Jewish bastards?”
“Too late for them,” Julius said. “They’re orthodox now. No, I mean the farm animals. I used to sing a lot when I had a home and a room with a view. One day I saw that view and wanted my space, fresh air, freedom. I flew out the window of opportunity and landed in the lemon grove. I took a bite from a lemon and that was enough freedom for me. I turned toward home only to discover that the window had been closed as I smacked against the windowpane.”
“Ouch.”
“It was smart. I slid to the ground and was almost eaten alive as one Rottweiler attacked from this way, and his evil twin attacked from that way, and the cat Mousetrap pounced from yet another. I flew off just as they collided into a massive heap of fur and a few of my feathers under the window. I haven’t touched the ground since, knock on bark. I suppose my singing may have done me in. I miss the big house and the family.” Julius paused for a moment, reflecting over distant memories. “I haven’t sung ‘Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall’ since.”
Bruce moved away from the fence and defecated, depositing a large mound of manure.
“Ah, look, Bruce, you’ve made some new friends,” Julius said as flies swarmed over the fresh warm cow pod.
“Can never have too many friends,” Bruce said and leaned against the fence post.
“Speaking of friends, looks like you have a couple coming to see you. Well, I must be going. Ta-ta, ‘til next time.” Julius flew off as Blaise and her red calf bounded from the barn. “See if you can cheer him up, will you? I’ve tried.”
Blaise pressed the young heifer between her and Bruce, rubbing against him as they passed. “Tag, you’re it! Lizzy wanted to come by and say hi.” A slender brown streak formed along the red calf’s lower midsection, but went unnoticed as throngs of people poured from tour buses and out of campers, who swarmed the farm and gathered along the fence line to glimpse the red calf that would one day soon bring about the destruction of the earth. Lizzy laughed as she and her mother trotted toward the pasture. The media appeared out of vans hidden behind satellite dishes to witness the progress of the red calf as if she were going to impart wisdom to the masses. The masses cheered and cried with joy upon seeing their salvation, but no sooner had they glimpsed the promise of the end than her mother turned her away. Under distress from the lights and cameras, Blaise and Lizzy disappeared into the sanctuary of the barn.
Bruce shook his head. He thought he heard someone call his name. He heard it again and walked out along the fence that ran parallel to the road past the barn. On the other side of the road, a group of four Israeli Holsteins wanted him to see his magic. Between them paraded 12 Holstein calves. “Look, Bruce,” said the young Holstein who, before Bruce had never experienced the joy of a bull’s company. “They’re all yours. We wanted you to see how beautiful they are, and how much they take after you.” One after the other, jumped and mooed from between the mothers Holstein, and passed along the fence so Bruce could see each one of them.
“Aren’t they lovely, Bruce,” the older Holstein, and close friend of Bruce, mooed. The other Holsteins walked up to the fence, each one nodding her approval and fondness toward Bruce. When they said their goodbyes, Bruce remained in the pasture to graze.
The other animals were confused, starting and stopping, scurrying back and forth as they had all day between the Baptist at the pond and the Messiah at the compost pile inside the partitioned-off fence lot. Finally, Mel exasperated, called from the barn that the heretic waddled in mud. A gaggle of geese looked puzzled as Boris waded out into the pond.
“The Large White, you foul fools!”
“Yes, we are,” laughed a duck as she slipped into the water, followed by her