Okay, we just finished reading Animal Farm in English, and we were all really sad that Napoleon sold Boxer. We tried to think of happy endings (like Boxer got away and lived a nice, happy life) but I really think it's better with a sad ending. So here's what I think happened to Boxer. By the way, this takes place right after the glue van drives out of the gates of Animal Farm.

I continued to kick at the doors of the van long after the voices of Clover and the rest of my comrades died down. But my strength had dwindled and the powerful horse I was at the beginning of the revolution was gone. I could only put a few dents and scrapes into the thick door, and with a heavy heart, I huddled down on the floor of the moving van.

I was quite shaken by the words of Clover. Was Comrade Napoleon really carting me off to my death? Had the haunting words of Benjamin been true? Was every comrade on Animal Farm simply a small, easily replaceable stone in the greater workings of the windmill?

I couldn't believe Comrade Napoleon would send me off to a factory as my donkey friend had read off the side of this moving prison. No one as good as Napoleon would do such a thing to a fellow comrade, I was certain of it. I could understand it coming from those traitors that had been executed so horrifically. They, after all, had tried to thwart animalism and all the hard work we had put into making Animal Farm a successful place and a safe haven for every animal that inhabited its pastures.

Benjamin must have been wrong. But why would he have done such a thing? Why would my good friends Benjamin and Clover try to keep me from getting veterinary help? I wasn't terribly keen on being in a room full of human beings, but if it would make me better, than I was willing to spend a few hours or so with animals' greatest foe.

But maybe, just maybe, they were trying to stop me from being treated. Were Benjamin and Clover really all that selfish to stop Comrade Napoleon's arrangements for me? Did they, dare I say, want me to die?

That must have been it. Why else would they try to get me out of this van? Why else would they not want me to get better? They were traitors of animalism and Animal Farm. My own friends, traitors! They had done a good job of hiding it. Hadn't Squealer warned us against this kind of thing? To always be on the lookout for animals in alliance with Snowball? Had I been so blind as to not see the treachery in my own friends? If I had only worked a little harder, maybe Clover and Benjamin could have been saved from their evil doings.

I could feel the van slow down and I stood up again to look out the window. We were in front of a very large, gray building and thick clouds of smoke where snaking out of numerous chimneys. They must have been treating hundreds and hundreds of animals if their building was as large as this one.

Two men came and opened the back of the van. I timidly followed them into the building, knowing that Comrade Napoleon had probably hired these men himself to guarantee my safety.

As soon as I entered the structure, various, pungent smells overwhelmed me. It smelled like rubber and smoke and even blood. Why blood? And another aroma came to me. A scent I hadn't tasted on my tongue since the executions- death. This place smelled like death, I was sure of it, and it made me antsy.

I was taken to another room. This place was windowless and a bare light bulb hung from the ceiling. There were three other men here, and they didn't look happy. I saw something sparkle under the harsh light- a needle. I whinnied and took a step back. What was going on?

"It's okay," the man with the needle cooed, "Come here."

I shook my head. No, what was this?

"Comrade, go on," I heard a very familiar voice say, "These people are to be trusted. They'll help you, comrade. Go on, go on. Everything will be just fine, comrade."

I stepped back towards the man and he dug the needle into my neck. I stood awkwardly on wobbling, weakening legs before dropping to the ground slowly as the world spun in circles around me. I scanned the room for a familiar face, but I could only see hypnotic waves of color and I could hear nothing now, except a loud ringing in my ears. I could feel my body becoming drenched with sweat and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. I felt tired and dizzy and ill. It didn't feel like everything was going to be okay, but if he had said it, it must have been true.

I closed my heavy eyelids. Comrade Napoleon was, after all, always right.