That Is One Ugly Dog
The other day I was about to head off from home to take care of some errands and chores around town. I’d already had my morning coffee and I was ready to face the day.
I got into the Toyota and headed down the driveway. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed some motion coming my way. “Oh,” I said to myself. “A dog is coming down the street.” I stopped the car out of sheer courtesy. As the dog approached I again spoke to myself. “Oh, that is one ugly dog.” Then the dog passed right in front of me as I sat in the car. It was then that I spoke to myself yet once more – this time out loud.
“That is not a dog. That is a pig.”
And I was right.
Casually sauntering down our street was a black and white pig. This was the very first pig I had ever seen in our neighborhood. Earlier this year I did see another pig. That pig was on a leash and being walked down the street over by the Post Office. That pig was Pink ala “Babe the Pig” of movie fame. The pig I was seeing on our street was more like “Pig – the Raw Material for a BLT.”
Wondering if the pig in front of me was someone’s pet, Four H Project, or close and personal friend, I posted on Facebook the following.
“If anyone in Terre Haute is looking for your pig, it just walked past our house.”
I was trying to help.
Unfortunately, given the caliber of my Facebook Friends, the deluge of replies to my announcement ranged from “????” to “I can think of so many inappropriate responses to this,” “Don’t try to teach it to sing,” and “Was it wearing lipstick?”
Later in the afternoon one of my saner and more tactful friends posted that someone else had posted about a truly ugly dog that had showed up on their doorstep. Someone then broke the news to them that their new ugly dog was, indeed, a pig. It turned out that the person with the ugly dog was our next door neighbor.
My very first thought was, “I wonder how Zeus and Zooey (their dogs) were going to react to all of this.
This whole thing could get very interesting.
It is now the next day and I have not heard a bark, a squeal, or a frying sound from next door. I’m sure that there has to be a next chapter to this story. I’m just not sure if it will be a tragedy, a comedy, or just brunch.
After a few days I had hoped to know the fate of the pig, but I have neither seen, heard, or smelled anything. Even the faint aroma of pork chops would have told me something. The only thing I have noticed is that the neighbors have a new dog. Not a black and white ugly dog, but a cute yellow lab. I don’t think they could have pulled off a Trans-Species procedure that quickly.
So, all I can say is, “Wherever you are, Little Pig, I hope you are safe and happy. Don’t forget to write if you find work.