The school class yearbook there are pictures there of those friends that are the cherished, and of foes that hate, despise, and would if they could find me, would kill me!

Reaching to know wanting to learn, asking of parents to explain, the world is all Topsy-turvy.

Alison, the runner-up to the senior prop queen had her hot date give her the brush-off for not winning a title. She was down in the dumps, so much that she was willing to link up with about any fellow classmate that might ask her to come with him. Having asked for one reason in mind, she was easy to sedate, and when laid out on her bed, while inspecting what makes a girl so different from a boy, in walked her mother doing a night-time bed check.

Any trying to explain seemed worthless, even if nothing truly sexual took place. People will think what they wish, and talking, the laws are quick to judge, as were the newspapers they too, as from an innocent want to learn proved to humiliate the guilty.

Defamed and forced out of school early, not allowed to do home study, not allowed to graduate, everything that seemed so well planned fell apart. Family and friends began judging without asking, and for this reason, dear Dad thought it wise for his son to have an extended visit with our family eccentric, his Uncle Ned, he rarely would anyone care to make a mention.

Uncle Edmin “Ned” Flycatcher, a kooky last name that to this very day stays in the mind and makes for a good mental laugh. Uncle Ned the owner of a large farm, it far from civilization, part of the western state of Wyoming.

The parents, dad primarily thought of Uncle Ned as he too spent some time at the farm-ranch during one of his summer vacations when first attending the university in Laramie Wyoming. He thought highly of Uncle Ned, even if mother thought of him as a crackpot of an old man. Upon our arrival, Dad acted as his leaving the family jailbird of a son on a farm might help the learning what animals are like. Expecting to shovel crap and fill watering troughs with a hose, the sight of this large agricultural business stunned a youthful thinking mind.

Dad did all the talking, he explaining to Uncle Ned as of how his son was uneducated in sex education matters, a fault to which father took all the blame. He told the established story of how his foolhardy son did turn to fondling to finding the answers of life with a pretty girl. Embarrassing to say the least, but not allowed to speak up while Dad remained there, fortunately when he left after an hour, Uncle Ned said nothing, other than to suggest his nephew look around the farm.

Expecting some elderly old codger, Uncle Ned was the complete opposite of what was expected. He was in his late seventies, but well dressed, drove a convertible sports car and had several other vehicles he used for farm business activities. He rode a fiery stallion he named Hostile Warrior, and had tagged to the walls of his kitchen many a county fair ribbon for bull riding.

Oddly friendly considering all Dad said of what his son did, Uncle Ned assigned the room his son used to grow up. It as if untouched since that terrible day when at the last day of the Vietnam War, a stray bullet killed his son, a cousin, and fine form of a young man, as according to his picture there on the wall in the bedroom.

Called by a friendly voice to a hearty supper, Uncle Ned did the honor and showing his house to his nephew, he walking outside, added a trip trough the two big barns. Uncle introduced his black devil of a stallion horse. They rode together every morning, he doing so for a few miles across the open range. Given a grand tour, while looking around saw there that elegant house and even the farm buildings, they all had aluminum siding, metal roofs, and not a scratch or dent anywhere.

Early to bed and early to rise makes a young man alert and hungry. The morning of the first full day at the farm began when a Mrs. Tweedy came to awaken the young guest; she came there special to make a breakfast for Uncle and his nephew. What nervous misgivings there were from mom grumbling about that nasty old man and of him out in the boondocks of Wyoming, had her son expecting the worst.

Expecting to have chores assigned, Uncle raced off on his A.T.C. to help with a broken fence repair. That offered more time to look around, and looking became more like prying into affairs uncle might wish as left buried.

This one barn had only tractors and farm implements in it, but there was a stairway leading from the main floor to the lower second, basement floor. As with a borrowed flashlight in hand to see into the dark stairway and of what might be in the basement, a door opened into a room made for trophies. Having walked down into the dusty darkness while looking about, did discover first a tact room with racks holding all sorts of leather strapping, harnesses for horses, and yokes for Oxen, halters, bridles, and collars galore.

Then, walking through a doorway into what was a main room, setting in one corner of that room was an old wooden desk. A desk covered in dust and hay that had sifted from the barn floor above. As intrigued with what might be in the drawers, did open the top right hand drawer. There filling the length and width of the drawer, lay a book. Lifting the heavy book out of the snugly fitting drawer, and placing it on the desk, flipped it open beginning with the front cover.

There on the first pager of this book or maybe it was a ledger, as written in broad print from a quill pen and ink said, “To Ned be the granting power to bring on change for any reason!”

Flipping one page after another, stood there seeing photos of what were exceptional looking horses, cows, bulls, goats and sheep. Pages and more pages, each filled top to bottom, giving the various breeds, a date and a name of each animal. There too were the names of farms, ranchers, or scientific companies, telling of what became of animals sold to them, even the dates they finally died.

Then panning the flashlight, took note of breeds and names previously mentioned near the photo of the animal, had written again as of which harness, halter, bridle, or some odd apparatus used to keep animals under control. This seemed so strange that returning to where the various animal pictures were, then looking at them would compare these to the photos hung on the wall of special animals dear to the heart of Uncle Ned.

Norton - Hereford Bull - 09-30-49
Simon Farms - Sired 2084 calves / faithful to the end / died June 2, 1967.

Williams - Bashkir stallion - 4-18-52
Bashkiria Commune - Urals Russian / sired 98 foals
Subdued after six years / became doctor and lives with his loving wife and her mother.

Thomas - Przewalski Mongolian Horse - 4-18-57
Lincoln Park Zoo, Chicago / Gelded after trying to rape a female attendant
Mind degraded beyond tolerance / died 1-1-2001

A casual walk around the room flashlight in hand looked at each one of the framed and glass sealed photos. One took special attention, that of a large Hereford red bull, with a tag label placed under the glass, it read, Allen Norton, proud to serve.

Eying closely the photo and so noted the large leather strap hung around the bullish neck, the same strap and bull bell as one setting on a shelf there in the room. Walking to where the halter lay next to the brass bell, did pick it up and thought to put it over the shoulders and around the neck to see what it might feel like.

Walking then back to the desk and plopping into the chair by it, did mumble aloud, "This does not make any sense!"

"Sure does or maybe it will over time," said Uncle Ned as his reply, he stood at the base of the steps, quiet and watching his nephew.

"I'm sorry but I saw the stairway and...," said to explain as why the new guest was where he might be less than welcomed, but Uncle stopped the quick bit of explaining at half in a sentence.

"No, no Nephew, the door left open expecting you might find your way down here. This is award hobby room, where with the power given to help young people finds the error of their ways. Some never learn to understand and end up living changed, and die the death as an animal. Others, many as horses, some as cows, most as goats, and a few as even Sheep or pigs too, find their outlook bettered when returned to their original forms. Those who make the grade here live again as would a human life to their fullest. You Nephew, have you chosen from the book a worthwhile lifestyle, something to help you decide what is right for you? Ah yes, young Mister Norton, he came here from Reform School, and while working found his love to be around cows. That very halter, it blessed him to be a fine purebred, Polled Hereford bull. His new embodiment being that bull, he gave of his spirit the fullest of any endeavor, bred well with all. He was a great sire and found a sense of fulfillment from mating of cows. He was of a greater help to some of whom came after him, they chose to become as cows learned then the true worth of life to the fullest.

Although he spent much of his lifetime tending to his heightened sensual needs, Allan had his loving ways, guiding those new to being bovine as what to do and how to cope," said Uncle Ned, he then walking into the room, and looking at the wall mounted pictures, stopping top stare at a few.

"What, you mean these things are empowered to make people who would wear them as if they were born to wear them?" Obviously stunned at hearing the story spun by Uncle Ned, and asking if what he said were the truth, his answer made for more wonderment and a feeling of apprehension of remaining there with him.

"Yes," he responded briefly, as if what would be a magical miracle were an everyday occurrence there on his farm.

"Then you would like your nephew better if he was to wishfully want to wear this, and from hanging it around the neck it somehow would do the changing to become a Hereford bull too?" Asking of Uncle with an uncommon boldness, the story as spun seemed too fairytale to be anything real.

"Such is what your father wanted for you, as he when younger came here, and having seen what did you, he made a choice. So then yes, if you want to learn and understand the deeper meanings of life, I believe it would give you some needed guidance. This be the truth for you, unless what you did that became so much the troubles of your young life were from wanton lust and sexual self-gratification passion.

Something similar befell your father some thirty years ago. It forced him to come and pay a visit, he deciding to play along with an old man and his fantasies. Then he donned a draft horse halter. After the time required making the change a reality, he resided here on the farm but one year before asking nicely to return to being his human self. His lifestyle and the trials of living as do animals daily helped him to know best what he wanted for a proper future.

He knew both sides of the fence that helped him to excel in life from learning the raw basic needs as he worked that one year as a draft horse. He made up his mind about you after that foolish romp with the girl. It was a week later when your father was at his wits end. He called and asked with a quiet reverent tone for his Uncle to foster you along into learning about life!" Uncle Ned said, his speech done with such sense of heart felt love for what became of father, he sounded as if near to tears.

This had to be some sort of hoax, such was like magic and or straight off, the television science fiction movies and this could not be anything real. Decided then that Uncle Ned was some kind of nut-case, the thought to run out the room, up the stairs, and to be were if needed one could run.

Slamming the room door shut, Uncle turned to look with a cold stare as if he knew what was as a plan to run away.

“This is not the stupidity you think, it is real, and if by… taking of this pony halter and dared to put it lightly over the head, you will feel the power that be, are here, and can make you fit it as if born to wear it for your entire life.” Said Uncle Ned as he holding up a small leather strap made halter, stood there offering for his gullible nephew to slip it on over his foolish head.

The thought this was some sort of testing, seeing if the nephew would do as told when told, the sense of humiliation for having to put it on stopped the wish to do as asked. Backing away from Uncle, the desk got in the way, trapped as Uncle approached, stood there with eyes closed as the halter then slipped into place sent a shiver of shame down the spine.

Eyes closed the sudden dreamy scene was of horse and ponies standing in a corral and to one corner of the pen were two horses going at it, mating with such brutality, that seeing it made for a feeling of dread.

The vision and the sense of personal dread left when Uncle did not let go of the halter, but holding it, he lifted it up and over, off from the head seeing what was for the previous wearer.

“You saw as what she did, this halter last worn by Gracie, she your second cousin, came from Denver to live here for two years. Had she remained a pony mare, she might well have stayed here longer. The stallion mating in the scene was a real born stud. He is here still, used as a stud to breed with mares, mares being born as mares, or humans changed and living as mares.

Had Gracie stood there in fright and became the next conquest of the stallion, once impregnated, it would be necessary for her to remain a mare through foaling time, and live as a mare mothering her offspring with teats and guidance until the colt or filly were weaned and able to live by grazing. What would add to her life here, being as is a pony mare would last two more years, an eternity to someone changed. Worse, might be that she would like the experience of mating with the stud, and after her time of mothering she would allow the stud to impregnate her a second time, such would assuredly force her to remain a mare the rest of her natural life. The natural life for a mare might be twenty years, but for those changed and deciding to remain an animal, they live the biblical promise. As promised, to live for three score and ten years minimal, that as seventy and more years as what they became.” Uncle explaining, his story seemed woven with logic over time, sounded possible if not real, or real to him.

Not believing the spun story, but playing along with the situation, did ask of Uncle, "So say by your first choice that with putting on then that big belt and the brass cow bell, you would want for your nephew to become then a prize bull?"

"If that be your choice, if you would like to try being a bull, your course of living like one would last for at least three months. Come then a time when required to give your answer of yes it or no, telling if being a bull agreed with your expectations or did not, then comes the need and time to choose what would be your testing of life.

None changed begin as if full grown when first becoming like an animal. They need time to grow and the body to gain bulk. As being like a yearling size of bull, three months would bring on the size and passions of being a bull. Once if after having mated a cow, the ritual done, the choice then is as made, a bull would you need remain.

If decided then at three months to return then to being human it is possible to support a return to your human self. Ah, but be warned, that sexual behavior as of a sire animal is the crux to living on longer as or even without knowingly accepting the idea, comes then the fact of permanency, unchangeable, living your full life as then an animal.

An example, if once you become say a bull, the natural instincts begin to put pressure on your thinking and reasoning process. The bestial lusts excite and build intent for to procreate your new species. This in turn drains your human ability to reason and learn. Life takes on a bland sense of meaning, if richer your want for sensation and sexual pleasuring tends to make the return to human existence, seem ridiculous, and hardy worth the effort.

At certain times to come, the enchantment has limits, these when approached your mentality would return, able to think, reason, and understand your present situation you need then to choose. Ask then to return to being human, or if ignore the question poised and you walk away it be decided then your desires," explained Uncle, the urgency of deciding then came in his tone of voice as if an epic moment in time.

Unable to decide what to do, whether to play along or deny Uncle his fun, asked then to think about it for a while. This seemed to defuse the urgency of deciding, and Uncle opened the door to the room, motioning for his nephew to walk out, take leave, or run.

Walking out and then up to some sense of freedom, the wonder of what had dad left his son to do or become, as with living here with Uncle seemed more than strange a place to think and decide the future.

Walking and returning for supper, it was quiet through the meal and after when washing the dishes. Nothing said, but we were thinking, the looks coming from Uncle made the blood run cold.

Nine o’clock and to bed we who be farmers do go, for a wondering nephew and son of two loving concerned parents lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking hard for the first time in his entire life.

Unexplainable, the sight of seeing such a strange and vivid vision, it happening when as Uncle had laid so slightly that pony halter over the head of a deciding nephew. So real the scene, the sensations, feeling as if from being nervous like was Gracie, felt her tail flicking, whisking at furry buttocks, she as if a naked animal there in the hot sunshine.

Vivid in the extreme and charming in a way never thought about, the idea of becoming as is an animal and living of life that way. The thinking of the feelings added to the sense of arousal as what Allan felt like when a bull, or being as might a pony stallion and wanting to mate with a mare. The more the thoughts of it all made a want to try a halter or harness on a personal and private time.

Near midnight and sneaking out of bed, got dressed, and was out the house walking to the barn. Aroused so stiff by the anxious feeling, walking became staggering. Into the barn, down the stairs, flashlight in hand, did open the tact room door and went inside. Looking around, saw a light switch and it lighted the room in a yellow glow of a dust-coated light bulb.

Halter, bridles, harnesses, broad leather straps, some with bells, some without, all hung neatly on pegs, and above each were the names to those who wore them, and of when they did with date and years worn.

In the short while there at the farm had seen then how bulls are and of horses mill about but remain close to their respective small herd. As Uncle mentioned of, he had some goats and sheep, but no pigs. The thought of what would wear what from the room, as from memory, pigs never wore anything of straps made of leather.

Looking and taking a visual inventory did note a wood peg and it having looped around it was hinged brass rings. The rings where they could open had sharp points that when pinched together, acted as would a scissors. “Nose rings, as what went into the bridge of the nostrils and nose of a bull, used to control it when at show!” Verbally recounting what having seen, one of the bulls there at the barn, he trussed up for a washing, had a rope looped through the nose ring holding him tight and captive.

Bulls, cattle did not offer any interest as a fantasy for being like one, the thought of becoming a pony might. If allowed the choice of being a stallion and not a mare, the desire to retain being male seemed a primary desire.

Looking at the halters saw one that with its shiny black straps appeared as if used mostly when at show, at the county fair, or in competition, this allured in a way the others did not!

Lifting it with great care and caution off the wood peg where it set hung on, with shaking hands held it above the head and slowly letting it then come down. The leather straps first touching the top of the head filled the mind’s eyes with a stunning vision. Turning of the head to look around, peered along sleek black colored flanks to a short but busy tail.

A careful gaze down saw there forelegs and hoofs, the longing increased then to let the halter drop into place an accept being then what it would do.

“A Hackney is a coach horse, that the halter to the one and only such horse ever here on the farm. He, Daniel, made for a fine sulky horse. He won many races and lived in his stallion form for thirty-seven years. Sadly, he died from injuries given him by an angry mare, she a changers as was he, but she angry at the world and those living in it.” Said Uncle, he then in the doorway to the room, seemed intent but willing t let his nephew make the choice of a lifetime.

Smiling back at Uncle and the first thought to go along with his joke, did laugh. A short-lived bit of humor as while seeing Uncle, saw as well what did Daniel when he had the halter strapped tight to his horse head.

Lifting up and removing the halter ceased the scene of being as was Daniel when being as horse.

Setting it back on the wooden peg, Uncle seemed saddened by the return of it to the peg as if chosen by his nephew he would like it, and like having again another horse on his farm.

Without a word of asking, then pointed to various halters, some being bridles with bits a part of them. Pointing at the nose rings stacked on a peg, each a different size from the other, Uncle said of these, as thought of them was correct. The removing off the peg of one seemed to sadden Uncle, it a small ring compared to the bottom of the stack large ring. Uncle said the ring chosen; he had used on unruly pig boar, he a railroad bum thought being a pig for him as proper, but found instead his life as a pig more than just dirty.

Wondering what Uncle would do, with then opening wide the ring, did begin to place it into the nose and would, if allowed, have closed it into a locked position.

“Really Nephew, you do that, close and lock it tight into your nose you do two things. First, you shall change into being as is a pig, a boar, and become brutal. Secondly, the locking of it will decide your question as to again to being human, this denial to be human, you will remain permanently as a pig boar for many years.

Defiant to believe the facts as told by Uncle, the hand holding the ring to the nose did jerk and slammed closed the points. A searing pain in the nose made a scream come out that began sounding like a human in pain, but finished with a squeal. Horrid feelings surged throughout the head, body and out into arms and legs.

A trailing fading stunned word that was as a “What,” turned to a grunting disdained sound as if a pig felt it as dishonored somehow.

Looking up at Uncle, he stepped close, took hold of aching shoulders and pushing, urged to walk along. We went upstairs and directly to the empty hog pen. He said nothing, but began unbuttoning what his nephew wore, as soon a young male human stood naked in a pen, knowing his body was in the throngs of change.

All the world of color dimmed to dark shadows of either black or white. In moments that followed, by blinking of eyes the more vivid color separation dulled to varied shades of grays and white. The reached out hand to beg for sympathy saw an arm changing to a fore leg with cloven hoofs.

Standing and knowing some of what had begun, the stomach turned as super came up, puking from the terror begun by denial. Hunched over forward the feelings suggested a better way to stand was on all fours. Suggested, but not wanted, as by doing so would give in and standing in that manner might rush the change to completion.

Again, trying to beg for help, the words set on the tip of the changing tongue, seemed to float off into the far recesses of a degrading brain. The feeling of as the bodily muscles grew stronger, expanding, turning a foolish eighteen year-old into soon a pig, of swine, as a boar. Eyes wide, did but watch in some sense of horror and fantasy as sharp, coarse feeling bristles erupted out the darkening coloration of skin.

Moaning, did stroke the changing foreleg across the thickening pelt of piggy bristles, the sensation not as frightening as it was arousing and sensual. Big oval shaped ears, all bristles too, began to move, mobile they could flick and flop.

Horror turned to a sense of humor knowing that the change and digression of body and mind would be then permanent if Uncle told the truth. Hearing then as a bucket of slurry slopped into a trough, Uncle standing there, pointing, the pig then seeing his meal sauntered toward it.

Raving of hunger, moving to the trough, feeling like dying of hunger, the slop tasted fair, it filled an aching belly, giving aid to changes, growth, and maturity.

The change was not without its sensual delights, the male parts gaining size, length, and a much higher level of sensation. The growth of a sheath and huge testes all pumped up expectations for mating, breeding, as would a boar to a sow.

Seconds, seemed as hours, watching as seeing of everything change in slow motion, until near the end was grown a tail, it flicked and wiggled, tickling at a bare and open anus. This too was a sensation offering great wonder and an odd sort of delight. Uncle Ned watched silently, helping when there was a problem for the changing. His warm hands were as a friendly note, applying a oily salve to the sheath. It an ointment he said, of what would remove all Christian resemblance of being human, deforming the circumcision to make a corkscrew out of what was male and human.

Near to sunup when Uncle stood back eying his new boar, said then, "Nephew you look just fine, a true and pure bred Berkshire hog boar now stands here and wanting to begin his life. A promise to you, keeping you in the barn for a couple of months might defuse the power of this spell; giving you some time to decide if this is right for you. Your body needs tending, feeding and gaining mass. You need help learning how to eat, and of grazing, consuming fodder; the fodder is the worst, I shall blend it with molasses until you get accustomed to the flavors.

Remember Nephew of your task, to learn and understand life! If you relax and be then as a true boar, your life to come will be that of a pig."

He attached a rope to the nose ring, giving it a slight tug, set a still maturing male pig to learn trotting on four legs, his cloven hoofs, and doing whatever the farmer asked. Taken to the barn, and placed as put into pen there, was alone, did sniff the sweet smell of straw covering the floor, it seemed so nice. A gallon bucket of water stood placed by the door and with it a tub full of raw grains for to munch.

To eat and drink often until learning better as how to eat as a pig should. In time nature will guide a lazy pig to wander about, but until then, he needed to try to eat as best he could.

Things went well and learning the piggish ways came quickly. Held inside the hot barn, had found life there to be a meaningless, as well mindless of action. Life slipped by as one day while groping in the trough, gazed up at dear Uncle. He stood there with a smile, as next to him stood then father, he with a scowl on his face told of great misgivings for he who once was as his son.

“The three month tribute time has arrived, speak now, you have weakened the spell, you can become something else or wish to be again a human, say you what nephew?” Asked Uncle Ned, his words cut deep, made sense, and with gained understanding left a pig to decide his future and fate.

“Do not be stupid and ignore the question,” grumbled father, he pushing Uncle aside, stepped close to the pigpen and looked at a son wishing he had some sows to tickle.

Uncle saw father in a different light, he walked away only to return moments later after an interminable amount of fatherly silence, Uncle opened a gate letting into the pen two hearty big sows.

“They were born as pigs, sows and well willing to mate. You have not had the experience yet, that of breeding and mating with your own breed, pig style, learning how best to mount, holding her in place, and inserting that shaft like a fine big boar.” Uncle said as he suggested what to then was something forbidden, as from doing it, the breeding, mating would seal the future and his nephew would remain as a pig.

Grunting and squealing the anxious many tries met with failure, the sow would walk away, forcing the fall harshly to all fours. It happened finally near sundown, when with a sow tired from the trying allowed the insertion. This offered a new finding to the sensual sensation so enthralling, it helped to the blowing spew of three fired loads. Snorting from the thrill, Uncle opened the pen gate and let sows with their boar to run out the barn and into a sty with numerous pigs of varied sizes, but all were sows!

“No, he shall doom and damn himself with the sows.” Said father that the last heard from him, as seeing his son rush after the herd of sows he did turn around and walked away, never to return to see how his son did with having a herd of his own.

Easy was the losing all track of time, living, as does a boar the need for a clock is next to useless. It was in the late afternoon as with lying in the mud near our herd of sows, we shaded from the hot sun, laid there lounging, saw Uncle coming to visit, he kneeling down and petting stroked a head covered with coarse bristles.

"It is again a time for the Nephew to decide, be you still a pig boar, or ready to be as a man," he asked.

To ogle up at him with one eye, thought for a short minute, then with the usual struggle to hoist the bulk pig body to stand, turned the head and giving a look at a lovely sow, she stood as willing and ready. She hardly a virgin wanted of her boar some fun-loving attention.

A look to Uncle, he watching as did his new large black boar trots directly to the young female, he mounting her, had a quick erection, something that with age and practice would become massive, as this time it squiggled in and slide it home. All done with the true rough and tough boar like manner. Two twists and a few thrusts helped blow the load, it spewed into that sow, and a boar gave a wink of satisfaction to Uncle Ned.

Uncle stood near the pen fence, smiled a smirk, and announced while his nephew could still understand him, said, "I see, well then you may continue on as a boar until next year. I will call your father and explain, unlike him, you seem to have found your place. You will soon be pleased, as with the coming of our County Fair, I plan to loan you for sire, and there are many more sows in the county! Once judged for your bulk and virility, you shall be the prime sire boar for show, and used to sire my herd and many others, lots of fun in the sun!”

In time, three years later, it felt so right and even proper as the Fair Judge, poked with his sharp stick, urging a big boar to move as he directed. Enjoying the Fair, and when placed in a box stall for three nights, two girls snuck in late, entering that stall, they fondled and sucked this boar, his corkscrew longed to rut them but they made the better decision as not to let that happen.

Uncle loaned out his prizewinner boar as promised, his piggish Nephew by then into his third year, moving from to farm. Vivid are the memories, remembered of Uncle telling how a boar cock would turn raw form pleasure, as mounting older sows, their tough and leather like vagina took some tolls. An occasional need to lick it helped, but it toughened, making the sensual feelings less and the lusting passion the driving force in his change life.

It must be that time again, seeing as Uncle coming again to ask. He stands beside one who was a father, Uncle tells of his satisfaction as his boar has done well, making him richer, as then he posed the same ole' question. Father stood wringing his hands in nervous frustration; no doubt, a mother knows of what was to do and renew. Uncle asked, father chimed in as well, both posed the question, if a son and nephew shall ever want to return to living a human life. Father begging of his son to consider, as from the longer amount of time spent in animal form, the greater the difficulty it is to return to be again human. As his dear wife laid down the law with him about her son and his uncle, he knows that his marriage is on the rocks.

The real question had an easy answer for why would one want to leave here, when here he is the King ! ;)