Here's another older story. This story is only partly fiction, but it's too strange to be all fact. I made a sad attempt to write a newer story, but my cold is holding back even the strange things from my mind. I hope you like this one. It's fittingly bizarre for Fiction Friday, and it is actually a preview of my next story.
Some Pig! What a pig! Look at the muscles on that pig! That one looks like it's a strong pig! And it's really friendly too! Who could ask more of any pig! I wonder if it's related to Spider Pig.
I'll tell you, if I had a pet pig like this one, I would ride it to work every day. That would save some gas! Or it could pull a little cart for me to ride in. Wouldn't that be a sight? A pig pulling a cart with a white rat in it. I could feed the pig leftovers. No more paying for gas! Except maybe from the pig.
Do you ever wonder what a pig like this is thinking? I know, me neither. Really, I think this pig might be worried that Jack the Farmer might want it for a meal. That would be a shame if such a great pig ended up as bacon and pork chops. I'll have to try and talk Jack out of it. Maybe he could trade another cow for something else to eat. That usually turns out pretty well.
I do have to say, it is a friendly pig. It looks like it wants somebody, anybody to feed it. You have to get that big somehow. This pig not only tolerated, but welcomed gangs of evil little kids. It went over to them, and just loved it while they pawed at it and petted it. I think the pig was in heaven. Who would have thought a pig would act like that?
I did have a pet pig when I was a kid. We used to keep it in a pen out in the back. There used to be a garage there, but my dad tore it down, which is another story entirely. It turns out the garage, and the land around it, was full of poisonous snakes. There were a lot of them where we lived then. Pigs like ours, would kill and eat snakes. That's why we really had the pig.
When we moved away, my dad gave our pet pig to the neighbors. We didn't mind too much. The pig had to live somewhere. Then my mom told me that they would probably slaughter and eat it. What a sad day! I felt terrible. My poor pig! I bet the pig felt worse than I did. I'll always remember that pig.
There you go. I just gave you a twisted tale about a twisted tail. I hope you liked it. ...Oh, one more thing. If you have a pig of your own, give it a hug for me.