|and I don't mean Petunia either. There is - in fact -a largish swine dining on hog finisher and leftovers right outside the bay window (insert Green Acres theme song here.) Now, I have never known any mammals of the porcine persuasion before (unless you count the short time I referred to Maddy, The Wonder Dog, as Senorita Porcina due to her unfortunate weight gain.) And, if truth be told, I haven't been formally introduced to Pig, even though we have shared the same residence for the last 12 days. I guess that is really my fault. I haven't even said "howdy," let alone knit her up a quick scarf or cute pair of mittens (it is cold here remember.) I have been able to get by on the excuse that I really don't have the right shoes for mucking through mud and swilling the hog. (I am not sure what the right pair of "hog shoes" looks like, but I am sure that I don't own them and don't ever WANT to own them. I did see a darling pair of alligator print 5 3/4 inch platform heel Pradas online yesterday that I would love to own, though...) I really think it is Pig's responsibility to initiate the relationship anyway. She was here first, after all. In the meantime, I am happy to set aside the food scraps and potato peelings for her (I do love bacon.)|
Pig is not a pet. Her sole purpose is to be food (for our own consumption and used for trade for other non-pork consumables.) As I mentioned above, I do LOVE bacon, but have always been content to purchase it from the grocer in that lovely hermetically sealed plastic package. (On really lazy days, I go for the pre-cooked, microwave kind.) I am not sure I want to see my food in its original form. I don't even like chicken on the bone. It is too gruesome a reminder that my sustenance was once walking around. (Note to self: should I be a vegan?) Pig is getting closer to her final destiny every day now. She is really packing on the pounds. That hog finisher she is oinking out on is apparently a swine's last supper of sorts. Well, at least Pig won't have to endure an Alaska winter right? Hmm, I wonder if you can make a pair of shoes out of pig hide?
|Pig and her playmate Baby Boy Moose|