Pig (the adventures of)

I fell in, head first. Covered in soot, blackened with the charcoal of freshly burned wood, I smelled like a Hawaiian pig picking and I was the main course. And yet, engulfing my soft pink fuzz, tiny arms squeezed tightly with an unconditional love, a love borne of friendship and loyalty.  I was safe.

She is my best pal, the one that brings me with her everywhere and lovingly calls me “Pig”. I remember the days of sitting on a cold shelf in a department store, wondering, hoping, dreaming of the day someone would become my friend. That day came not with the first child I was given to, but the second, Rory. She hugs my neck with an abandonment that compares to little else.  We share breakfast together every morning. We are penned in the same quarters every night. We are inseparable.

The endless adventures were taking a toll on me though. I required a day to regain my strength from the activities of R&R; no, not your typical “rest and relaxation” R&R but rather that of Ryder and Rory. My weight had gone down, a shame in the pig culture, and I required a bath (most don’t realize but pigs are actually quite clean creatures). And so I took an afternoon off and adventured to the spa.

A bit of “pigging out” and sun bathing

A hoof massage complete with pedicure

A good soaking followed by an extravagant rinse

I was completely stuffed by the end of it and felt fully refreshed ready to adventure again with my girl. In the crook of her arm, I was stronger and happy to be with her. I might not be the Piglet of Pooh’s, the Miss Piggy of frogs, or a pig given grand parties, but I am Pig…Rory’s Pig.

 

“Don’t underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering.” – Piglet, Winnie the Pooh by A.A. Milne