Brutus being a hogger not a pig – Photo: L. Weikel
Opposite Day
I might as well call today Opposite Day. As magical as yesterday was, with the myriad animal sightings and a meteor streaking across the sky, today was, well, lovely but benign.
OK, maybe benign isn’t the opposite of magical. Perhaps I’m exaggerating a tad the difference between yesterday’s and today’s experiences. I’ll concede that, if pressed, I probably wouldn’t want to experience the literal opposite of a magical day.
In fact, today was rather delightful. A warm front came through (or perhaps the frigid arctic front just left) making it almost feel as though taking a walk without a jacket might be on the agenda. It wasn’t. I got chilly before stepping off the porch. But it was tempting.
Clarification
I posted the other day about a pig in my life to whom I’ve given the name Princess. Let me be clear: this is an unofficial naming. Indeed, I feel she told me her name is Princess. But I’ve not seen her paperwork, nor would I trust it to accurately reflect what Princess would like to be called anyway.
Princess is not my pig. She abides on a neighbor’s farm. Said neighbor is a farmer and part of this farmer’s offerings to his customers are pork products.
This makes me very sad, but it’s not for me to judge nor to condemn. I do, however, choose to bond with Princess and at the very least let her know that she is loved and seen and appreciated while she’s alive. I’m grateful for her being my friend who pokes her head outside of her hut and then runs out to greet me whenever I walk by.
I intend to give her a carrot now and then, in addition to the dog treats I inevitably carry in my pocket. Based on suggestions of a friend, I may occasionally bring a different vegetable or fruit (an apple, squash, spinach, cooked broccoli?) but if I’m honest, I’m lucky when I remember a carrot. So if she only gets what is the equivalent of a piece of candy from me (a carrot) now and again, I admit to feeling little to no remorse. She could have worse friends.
Alas, the past two days it’s been dark by the time we reached Princess’s abode. So even though I remembered her treat, I didn’t see her.
Admission
I’ll admit it: I’m hoping she might have babies. I shudder at the prospect of their future, too, but hey. We all have our destinies. And as our puppies have turned six months old already, the prospect of bonding with some piglets is a tempting daydream.
(T+64)