I’ve read to
Freddy since he was in the womb. Hoping he would hear my voice from the
uterus, I read him stories to develop an early connection with him. I
now read a book or poem to Freddy every morning. I usually cover the
favourites – Mem Fox or A.A. Milne – but
the other day I picked up a little wooden book that only had pictures. I
couldn’t resist telling him my version of one of the great books ... here is a written and, admittedly, more coherent version:
“Mr. Jones was nothing but a stinkin’ drunk, Freddy, nothing like you’re old man, but just as forgetful. Anyway, Jones forgot to lock up the
barn so the animals had free reign over the joint. The old sow was the natural
ringleader. She was a grumpy old pig, just like the grizzly Mrs Dewey from primary
school (she wasn’t very nice) and had been a prize-winner down at the show for
the past 10 years. What the pig wanted the pig got...let’s call her Dewey. If Dewey
shouted ‘oink’ all the other animals asked, ‘how high’.
“So, one day, Dewey called a meeting of all the animals on
the farm. She was surprised by who came first. It was Roger the sheep. Without
a mind of his own, he’s usually the follower. Then in flew Drake, a duck who
wouldn’t shut up. He’d talk with his head cut-off. Speaking of heads being cut
off, the next into the barn was Chucky, the rooster. Dewey hated that rooster,
and a bit of a spoiler for you Freddy, the story doesn’t end too well for
Chucky. Chucky was cocksure and arrogant, two traits Dewey hated, but what
really got under her pigs ears was that every morning, Chucky would climb to
the top of Jones’s barn and shout obscenities at the farmer.
"Dewey had long
despised this lack of respect, even though she was about to lead an animal
revolt. Typically the next through the door was the family dog, Mrs. Jones’s
beloved Beagle, Jemimah. Then the muscle came in – the dairy cow Daisy and the
proud young colt White Sox. Dewey had never told anyone, but she had thought
White Sox’s ankles made him look stupid. He lived up to his reputation, but
Dewey needed his brawn for her plan.
“When all the animals on the farm were in the barn, Dewey
spoke of a dream she had of stealing the land the Joneses owned. She spoke for
hours and the animals listened. She spoke of how they would all work together, how
there would never be any boss, and how all of the produce from the farm would
be shared equally among all the animals. Dewey’s vision was realised when the
animals, including Jemimah, scared a drunk Mr. Jones and his wife off the farm.
As dumb as he was, White Sox’s brawn was the key.
“In the early days, the animals kept the farm going well.
They made hay to eat and they slept soundly in the barn. But after a month,
everything began to change. Some of the animals felt they were working harder
than others, and weren’t getting their fair share. They began to fight and
started to work against each other. At one stage Drake got into such a flap
over the failing farm he turned to the drink like Mr. Jones and even sold
Chucky to a pillow-making company to buy himself some beer. Trying to recover
control, Dewey teamed up with the neighbours (who were humans) and struck a deal
that turned her into a queen, leaving the other animals out in the barn to fend
for themselves. The end.”
It’s fair to say, I got a bit carried away. But the main
thing is Freddy and I have continued our ritual, one I hope goes on for
many years.
I have recently learnt of a great movement, MaJenDome, which
I endorse. MaJenDome is not only encouraging expectant fathers
to read aloud to their babies in utero, but for it to become instinctive in
dads. I wouldn't publicise Animal Farm as the most suitable text, but there are plenty of other options.