So eat your chicken livers and lay off the ugli fruit and sour grapes.
I used to have a brother-in-law that owned a farm, he passed away a number of years ago, but I spent some of my summers on the farm. I learned a few things. Cows are really really stupid but they are pretty docile. Chickens and turkeys are also very stupid, ducks are not so docile and at least the domestic ones will attack for almost no reason. The attack is noisy and consists of wing flapping, quacking and pecking. Not all that dangerous but startling enough to intimidate dogs and cats that have never seen it before. Horse sense doesn’t impress me, but a smart ass does. Donkeys are fairly clever. But they have an attitude. In addition to 1984 George Orwell also wrote “Animal Farm.” In it he put the pigs in charge. That part is correct. I think the pigs are the smartest animals on the farm. They also have an attitude, and they’re mean. My BIL only had pigs one year. I think he got fed up with them. That was one summer I was on the farm. He and my sister both worked in town, and I would stay out on the farm and watch the kids. I did a few chore with the animals, I would turn the pumps on to refresh the water in their tanks, I made sure they had food. That was about it. One day the pigs figured out how to get out of their pen. When my BIL got home the pigs were wandering around the farm. We got them back in their pen. The next day they not only got out of their pen, they got into the chickens pen. I was picking up my BIL and sis when they got out. You know how cats will “Play” with a mouse or other small animal, pigs play rough. We got home and there was blood and feathers all over the place. My BIL had a bit of a temper and was cussing up a storm while getting the pigs back in their pen. Then he went and got a chain, wrapped it around the gate and fencepost and used a clip like one on a dog collar to close the chain. There was a chain on the pigpen and another on the chicken coop. The next day as we were putting the pigs back in their pen again, my BIL was really pissed. He went into the tool shed and came out with two combination locks. As he was cussing them out he also told them that if they figured out how to get out with padlocks on the gate they were going to go to market. They didn’t pay him no mind. They didn’t understand English and wouldn’t have cared if they did. It took about three or four days, but we came home to carnage again. I thought the veins in my BIL’s neck were going to explode. No, they didn’t figure out how to unlock the locks. They dug a hole under the gate. My BIL kept his word and they went to market. I think I saw him smile every time we had ham or bacon after that. It was kind of like winning an argument and having the last word. HA! I Win! You’re Food! One of the hazards of playing with your food is that it might be smarter.
That happened when I was 16. I remember it like yesterday.