WALKING THE PIG- From Worzel

Quite the Bard, your Godfrey, a friend observed. She was keeping me company this day in our luggage shop, idly sifting a heap of papers I was sorting. “He would write about anything, I replied, write of anything but beets…” This is one of his more, “Obscure” works….From Godfrey.

As I set out this morning, I was so deep in thought, of carrot muffins with butter and coffee so hot, then remembering it was Tuesday, my thoughts turned to tea, I looked up- she was walking her pig, walking her pig on the sidewalk up the street, walked her pig on a harness toward me.

I recall camping out on a warm summer night, came a chap to visit from a neighboring site, asked us if it would be alright, for his kids to come see our pet pig.  My friend sat gob-smacked, I laughed till I cried, she pointed to the tree where her old dog was tied, he was bug eyed, curly tailed, unsightly and big, he ate like one, smelled pretty rank, but he was truly a dog, not a pig.  When down in the city I visit sometimes for dinner and talk, we still laugh about it, that camping trip, when we take the dog to the beach for a walk.  And my old friend thinks I am a  daftly, does not believe what was strolling toward me, a black and white pig in a pink harness, made me forget it was Tuesday, carrot muffins and coffee…

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4 thoughts on “WALKING THE PIG- From Worzel

  1. Maybe it was reading Charlotte’s Web many times, but I’ve always been partial to pigs. On the small farm my dad kept, I mourned and had trouble forgiving him when I learned he had butchered our big, not-so-cute pig; but eventually I was able to eat the resulting bacon. I think I’d rather walk a pig than a dog, all things considered.

  2. My city friend, Christine posted one morning- “On my way to work, saw someone walking a pig, that’s all” The rest of it is also true. When our dad butchered the pig, we were given innards to boil in a tobacco tin over the fire, I prefer pigs to most critters.

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