I have listened in upon some of the happenings at Animal Farm by spying upon them from behind the trees. My means of survival is not yet defined but I’m not worried about that. I am worried about my fellow comrades. I hear some animals protest that I fought bravely at the battle of cowshed, but Squealer silences them saying that bravery is not enough. This is enough to make tears prick at the corners of my small pig eyes. A pig I called my friend and comrade, come to make a fool out of me. I hear from the pigeons flying above that the Sunday morning meetings are big canceled too. I am so disgusted right now. Everyone has been made to think of me as a criminal. Not as the one who wanted the best for my comrades. My pigeon friends keep bringing me news saying that Napoleon is going through with the windmill. He is even taking credit! My banishment for nothing! Out of jealousy and hatred?! I ran back to my makeshift underbrush home and wailed. I didn’t care who heard. I wailed and wailed at the sight of my fellows failing, at all my hard work gone to waste, at Old Major’s dream zapped to dust. Everything was changing. Everything was wrong. I've learned with all this drama going on that even when we are truthfully right, a simple comment can change the minds of so many, and turn you into something you're not.