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When they had finished their confession, the dogs promptly tore their throats out, and in a terrible voice Napoleon demanded whether any other animal had anything to confess. (7.25)
Yikes. You would have thought Orwell would spend a little longer with this, but instead he just tosses it out there: "the dogs promptly tore their throats out." It's as though he wants us to experience this violence as shocking—and shockingly matter-of-fact.
There was enthusiastic cheering and stamping of feet. Napoleon was so gratified that he left his place and came round the table to clink his mug against Mr. Pilkington's before emptying it. (10.28)
"Gratified" is just a fancy word for pride. Napoleon is proud of the fact that these human farmers are accepting him as one of their own. Unfortunately, "one of their own" means that he's a conniving, tyrannical overlord. So, you know, good luck with that.