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Once upon a time, there was a farmer that traveled to the Americas. In the old world, animals were grouped together and raised in small areas of land, the animals could come and go as they pleased. Most of them stayed near the areas where the farmers kept them. There was food, and the farmer kept predators away. They were very careful about not disturbing the animals too much. Every so often, they would lead one of the animals away from the others, and it would likely not return.
The farmer, freshly arrived in the Americas didn't know what to do. There was hardly any food here. The animals he did find were too young, too scrawny, or too wild. There weren't any animals that could make more animals, the ones he found were skinny and not necessarily sickly but not fat and volumptious. Some were too wild, they would scare the farmer away, running towards him and making horrible noises as he ran away. He was used to tame animals that would eat right out of a farmers hand, and all he had was a pitchfork and an old spoon to eat soup from a tin he got from some of the injuns in town.
Many years had passed and he managed to find a small pig that seemed to be carrying piglets. He kept it and soon found some chickens, they would lay 1 egg every month or so. During his conversations with different people in town, he heard about the deer, the buffalo, the quail, and the turkey. Most of the indians, they didn't really eat animals. They had corn, and squash, acorns, and rasberries. The British brought large barrels of wheat in ships bigger than 100 houses. They also had fresh water and maple syrup to make sweet treats for the kids. There were Apple Orchards, and fruit trees, walnuts, and almonds, and citrus was rumored to harvest the vitamins of the sun for the injun to eat.
This didn't really please the farmer, he wanted meat, eggs, milk. The little pig wouldn't do for very long. He'd seen pigs twice his size that would feed a family at least, and the sheep at about his size, would provide for a good meal. He began to think through ways to get meat, and the other things that go with it like milk and eggs. One day he woke up from his afternoon nap and went off into the meadows.
He found a buffalo and had it mate with a deer, then took the cow and pulled on its teat until the milk wouldn't stop flowing. He found the chickens and fed them a treat, they couldn't stop thinking about what they'd eat, and now they lay'd an egg each day, and occasionally a new chicken. The pig saw what he did to the chickens and eventually started to grow. The farmer saw the new pigs growing and healthy. The farmer was too upset to think about how long he had to wait to see the pigs grow. So he took the big pig and ate its back, fried in its own fat. He was now happy with his new home, and the indians put out a marker around his home. Do not enter, the home of the farmer, for he has become one with the animals.
Over the years the farmer had many animals, some he would meat, and some he would teat. The pigs squealed throughout their lives, waiting for the day, that the farmer set eyes on their scrumptulous backs. The chickens they squawked too, laying their eggs, not knowing what to do.