Animal Firm

Author's Note: This story could be considered offensive by some. It is not meant to be. I'm simply commenting on a controversial topic. If this story bothers you, please move on to something else (I have many stories that shouldn't cause offense).

"All rise for the Honorable Judge, Penelope Possum. It is to be noted that the opossum is the only marsupial species native to North America, and is related to the kangaroo."

Judge Penelope entered the courtroom wearing her distinguished, black robes. She glared at the courtroom audience through thick-rimmed spectacles.

"Be seated."

She turned to the bailiff. "Why the comment on my race being related to the kangaroo, Bailiff?"

Bailiff Richard Goat glanced up sheepishly. "No specific reason. I thought it was an interesting fact."

Judge Penelope nodded. "Interesting indeed. Proceed."

Bailiff Richard nodded back. "We are gathered today for the case of the Farm Animals versus Farmer Jones."

Judge Penelope scowled at the prosecution's attorney, Duncan Donkey. "The attorney for the animals may deliver his opening statements."

"Your Honor, members of the jury, and visitors to this courtroom, today we will discuss something so fowl, you will be truly horrified. Farmer Jones has committed atrocities rarely before witnessed in a farm environment. He has deprived our fellow animals of the most basic freedoms and abandoned common sense. It is time these crimes ended. I have no doubt the truth will be evident. Thank you."

"Farmer Jones, you've asked to represent yourself. Would you like to give an opening statement?"

A cacophony of boos in every animal language erupted.

"Silence!" Judge Penlope glared at the audience. "We will have order in this court!" She turned her gaze. "Bailiff!"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Remove anyone who makes more than a peep from this court, except for the chickens. Even if they make a peep, remove them as well."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Farmer Jones, you may proceed."

Farmer Jones arose and shook his head slowly. "Your Honor, I'm not exactly sure what this is about. I've tried to treat my animals with kindness and I've always fed them and sheltered them. I've even called the vet when they were sick, at my own expense. I can't think of anything that I've done that would be an atrocity. That is all I have to say."

"Thank you both, for those statements. The attorney for the animals may present his case and evidence."

Duncan Donkey rose with an air of confidence. "Thank you, Your Honor. I will call my first witness. Mr. Solomon Fox, could you take the stand?"

Solomon slid into the seat up front.

"Now, Mr. Fox, could you tell me about your experience with Mr. Jones?"

The fox grimaced. "It is difficult for me to talk about, but I'll do my best. You see, I'm not really a fox. I'm a chicken. And I've tried to explain that to Mr. Jones, but he won't let me be a chicken. He won't even let me near the hen house. I've tried to explain a hundred times, but he grabs his gun and I have to run off."

The attorney's face crinkled in pain. "I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Fox. Truly, a reprehensible action. I imagine if I were to question Mr. Jones, he might say something like, 'He looks like a fox. He doesn't have feathers. He's a fox.' How would you respond to that?"

"I know what I am. Just because I don't have feathers doesn't mean I'm not a chicken. I know exactly what I am. Everytime I look at a chicken coop with all those other beautiful chickens walking around, I know that's where I belong." He licked his lips. "It's a gut feeling. I should be in there with those chickens."

"Your witness, Mr. Jones."

Mumbling something inaudible, Farmer Jones stood up. He stared intensely at the fox. "Mr. Fox, what was your mother?"

"A fox."

"And your father?"

"A fox."

"Then that makes you a fox."

"We don't have to be what we're born as. We can choose to be something else."

"But you snuck into my neighbor's hen house and in one night fourteen chickens were dead."

The fox changed his look to one of pain. "But I've changed since then. I'm a chicken now." He glanced longingly at two hens in the audience. "I just can't wait to be with them."

"Biologically, scientifically, you're not a chicken."

"Science can't determine what we are. Our hearts tell us that."

Farmer Jones let out a long sigh. "I have no further questions, Your Honor."

Judge Penelope pointed toward the audience. "Bailiff."

"Yes, Your Honor."

"It appears one of our hens has fainted. Please have the medical staff remove her."

"Yes, ma'am."

"The prosecution may proceed."

"For my next witness, I'd like to call one of the farm rats, Wendy Ratt."

Ms. Ratt, with help from the bailiff, crawled up on the witness stand.

"Hello, Ms. Ratt. Could you please explain to the jury your experience with Farmer Jones?"

Miss Ratt glowered at Farmer Jones. "It was terrible. I've always known I'm a beef cow. I hang out with the beef cows, I enjoy the same grain they eat; it's obvious I'm a beef cow. But Farmer Jones insists I'm a rat. Not only will he not sell me as a beef cow, but he sets out traps for me and even some poison that, of course, I would never eat. I'm a beef cow and only eat what beef cows do."

"And to clarify, what do you feel Farmer Jones should do?"

"Well obviously, sell me as a beef cow! And he should receive the same amount of money that he would get from any other beef cow. I should be equal with the other beef cows."

"Your witness, Farmer."

"Ms. Ratt, look at your size. You aren't a beef cow."

"I am! I am a beef cow. I eat exactly what they do. Except grass. I don't really like grass, or even hay. But the cows love grains and so do I. That absolutely proves it. And what does size have to do with it? Are you discriminating against me because of my size?"

"But the market. No one would pay for you at the market. And if they bought you by weight, what do you weigh? Maybe a pound? It would be almost nothing."

"That isn't my problem, Farmer. I'm a beef cow and you need to treat me like a beef cow and I should earn all the money that any other beef cow brings in."

Farmer Jones rubbed his right temple and closed his eyes. "I guess I have no other questions."

"Gentlemen, you may make your closing arguments. The attorney for the prosecution may go first."

"Ladies and gentlemen. Honored jurors. Judge Penelope. What we have heard this day surely has injured our most delicate feelings. The ugliness, insensitivity, and poor logic exhibited by Farmer Jones cannot be overstated. With your own ears you have heard witnesses and Farmer Jones' very mouth describe these atrocities. I leave judgment in the jury's capable hands. The prosecution rests."

"Farmer Jones, please give your closing statement."

Farmer Jones stood and cleared his throat. "I don't have much to say. The fox is not a chicken. And the rat is a rat. Anyone can see that. I guess I'll rest my case."

*********************************

The jury re-entered the courtroom and the foreperson handed a note to Wanda Sheep. Wanda stood and faced the audience.

"The jury has reached a verdict. Guilty on all charges with a single caveat. The one fowl on the jury, a duck, will only agree that the fox is a chicken as long as in the future, he can't say he is a duck and live in the duck house. Otherwise, guilty on all counts."

Judge Penelope smiled. "This was really an open and shut case. Not too much to worry about as far as the laws are concerned. Farmer Jones, are you ready for my ruling?"

Farmer Jones nodded.

"You are hereby ordered by this court of the Jones Farm to treat Mr. Fox as a chicken. He is now a chicken and you will recognize him as such. Also, you will recognize Mrs. Ratt as a beef cow, including all associated privileges. At the time of the beef auction, you will sell Mrs. Ratt for an amount equivalent to the average of all other beef cows."

"But she doesn't weigh a hundredth of what cattle weigh. And no one will buy her anyway. No one wants rat meat with their beef!"

"That isn't this court's problem, Farmer. That is your problem. Not a dollar less than the average! And do not refer to Ms. Ratt as a rat anymore, or I'll have you jailed. Clear?"

Farmer Jones moaned as he cradled his head in his hands. "Clear."

Judge Penelope slammed down her gavel. "This court is adjourned."