Nothing brings friends together like the prospect of getting cooked and eaten!
These three, denoted in such a way that only their generic identities are acknowledged—the pig, cow, and chicken are, respectively, Hog, Herd, and Bird—are so dad-blamed happy it's hard to remember they have no individual personhood. Who would believe that generalized examples of abstract categories could have so much darn personality? It is, of course, an illusion.
They are nothing more than symbols for unseen and unheard referents. We might expect actual animals to approach their impending destruction with reluctance, or at least somber resignation, but idealized placeholders are free to act out anyone's ideas of propriety, no matter how bizarre.
Thus H, H, and B in their full-on fork-hoisting, wing-waving, arm-crossing, life-denying majesty.