Cuddle Pigs 29 March 19 – Photo: L.Weikel
Foiled!
I had a mission today. A mission that was foiled.
I was really looking forward today to bringing a most exclusive organic treat to the precious pigs that run across the field to greet us every day.
Back Story
Every once in a while I’ve shared an organic dog treat with my porcine brethren and sistren (is that even a word?). Remember, in Chinese astrology, I am an Earth Pig, also known as a Monastery Pig, so we have a bond. Even though I shouldn’t be, given their sweet and playful natures, I’ve been astounded by how gently these hefty creatures nibble the treat from my fingers.
Indeed, one in particular, “245,” was deemed by us to be the brightest of them all – because s/he would bound across the field when s/he saw us walking up the hill alongside their field. I was pretty sure s/he remembered the tiny dog treats I’d occasionally give her, although s/he also seemed to respond to my voice, which automatically and unconsciously immediately climbs three registers whenever I encounter babies, small children, or animals of any kind.
I’m referring to my favorite pig as “245” because that was the number embossed on the metal charm attached to her collar. I hadn’t yet discerned a name coming from her in our encounters. Indeed, I was focusing more on her face and didn’t think to check out the nether regions – and for that I apologize, since its causing me to vacillate on the whole gender pronoun thing in this post.
An Effort at Inter-Species Diplomacy
Today, though. Today was going to be special because I was going to bring I.M. Carrot, the Emissary from the Kingdom of Vegetable, and offer him to my sweet 245. It felt only fitting that the circle of life be played out before my eyes between my favorite organic carrot and my favorite piece of pork.
Ugh. Sorry.
I shudder at that. I do. I have not eaten pork in at least a decade – ever since I realized not only how smart pigs are but also that eating them lowers your vibration and thus should not be eaten before ‘doing my Work.’
And that is where my post is leading me. My cloven-footed friends did not bound across the field to greet me today, ears waggling and waving as they bounced toward the fence separating us. Not only didn’t they come to me – they were nowhere to be seen.
Instead, the door to their pen was ajar and there was what appeared to be a horse trailer parked beside it.
This makes me very sad. Indeed, Karl turned to me as we gazed at the empty field and said, “Uggggh. I hope they’re not being butchered for people’s Easter dinners.”
Butchered – What an Ugly Word
I know; I know. That’s what they were raised for; it is their particular mission in life to live happy lives foraging in an expansive open field, methodically (and quite efficiently) turning up the grass with their slightly upturned snouts to devour the grubs and worms lurking just under the greenery. And then, when the time is right, offering themselves as nourishment to be savored by us two-leggeds.
I understand. It doesn’t mean I have to like it.
Just in case, though, I’m going to bring I.M. Carrot with me tomorrow, too, on the off chance that maybe my friends just took a ride somewhere today. You know – an afternoon jaunt to view greener pastures.
I wish I had a photo to offer you here of 245 munching I.M. Carrot. That would’ve been epic. Giving diplomacy a whole new twist.
(T-969)