The sheep bleated to protest the vulture’s attack on the wolves. Some cows found this strange. The sheep were undeterred. “What do they know?” they taunted, “They are cows.”

Meanwhile at the centre of the Funny Farm one of the goats who insisted they were actually lions spoke: “Outrage!” he baaed but which he insisted was a roar. “Damn vultures. How dare they?”

A fox whispered to a cow: “His family is settled in the vultures’ abode. Ask him if he is going to call them back to the Funny Farm.”

“Mooo,” went the cow. But even before the cow could ask the question the goat-lion snapped: “No!”

“But sir …” said the cow. “No!” The goat-cow roared-baaed. “You are planted by the vultures.”

Elsewhere at the Funny Farm the chief sheep spoke of honour and sovereignty. The fox whispered to another cow: “Ask him to call back his lambs grazing on the farms of the infidels.”

“Mooo,” went the cow.

“No!” The chief sheep snapped. “I speak and you listen.”

The fox giggled: “Or the wolves eat and you let them.”

“Liberal foxist!” The chief sheep baaed in anger. “Wolves are misunderstood. Misguided. Backed by our enemies.”

The fox giggled again: “So this means the vultures are attacking enemy agents?”

“Yes,” said the chief sheep. “No!” He corrected himself. “In fact, yes and no.”

“Mooo” went the cows. “How can it be both? Please explain. We are confused.”

“Of course you are,” the chief sheep bleated. “You are cows.”

“But we voted for you,” the cows protested.

The chief sheep groaned: “Yes, voted for me in the armpit of the farm, but voting for the goat-lions on the greener side of the fence. Baa humbug!”

The fox whispered: “The sheep it seems still haven’t come to terms with the reality of the elections. But exactly what is the difference between the sheep and the goat-lions?”

As the fox was wondering, the goat-lion and the chief sheep stood together and asked the farm animals to repeat after them: “Four legs goood, two wings baaaad.”

A horse interrupted: “Excuse me, sirs. The vultures do seem rather evil, but haven’t the wolves been devouring the sheep, goats, cows and chicken of the farm?”

“You are being misinformed,” the chief sheep claimed. “The wolves that are doing this are not our wolves. They are bad wolves. Our wolves are vegans.”

The goat-lion agreed: “Yes. But anyway, we lions don’t have to worry.”

“Lions?” The chief sheep laughed. “You are goats. And that mane of yours is a wig!”

“How dare you?” The goat-lion roared-baaed. “Comrade, please, we have to be united in these testing times.”

“United against whom?” Asked a horse.

“The vultures, of course,” said the goat-lion. “And the bad wolves.” The chief sheep added.

“How can one tell the difference?” Asked a cow. “They all look the same and have similar kind of teeth.”

“You can’t, but we can,” said the chief sheep.

The fox giggled: “Or there aren’t, but let’s pretend.”

“Liberal foxist!” The chief sheep bleated in anger. “Saboteur!” roared-baaed the goat-lion, his mane shifting from left to right.

Then both retired back to the barn of the Funny Farm. A few days later the cows, horses and chickens still looked a bit perplexed. So a horse asked a social sheep to get him in touch with either the chief sheep or the goat-lion.

“Sorry,” the social sheep replied. “Both are not on the farm.”

“Where are they?” The horse asked.

“Both have gone to meet their lambs and calf-cubs,” the social sheep replied.

“At the vultures’ abode?” Asked the horse.

“Yes,” said the social sheep. “They have families too, y’know. Please respect their privacy.”

“But what about their anger against the vultures?” Asked the horse, surprised.

“Have you been talking to the fox?” The social sheep asked.

“No,” the horse answered. “Good,” said the social sheep. Now repeat after me: Four legs good, two wings baaaad.”

The fox giggled: “How do you feel, Mr Horse?”

Replied the horse: “Like a donkey.”