Pigs. They must be one of the most vile creatures alive. Right up there with vultures. (Or should I say, right down there...) They will eat anything, and I mean a-ny-thing. I saw one little pig nosing through some cow droppings today. I don't know what it thought it would find in there since a cow regurgitates its food a few times and keeps on chewing it until the food is nothing but pulp. I've seen plenty of cow droppings around here, and there is nothing substantial in there.
There are pigs everywhere in the village. I walk past at least 20 on my to anywhere, and on longer runs I probably pass 50 of them. They come in all shapes and sizes and combinations of white, black, and light brown - even dalmatian-pigs. The small ones might be cute if they weren't rolling around in the mud or nosing through dung. Their skin is very wrinkly, visible under the thin, bristly hair that doesn't quite cover them. They have small, beady eyes without a spark of personality.
They make a mess out everything around them. They tear up the grass and eat the roots, probably looking for grubs or other bugs, leaving large craters of roughed-up dirt where smooth, green grass had been. They walk through their food trough, dragging scraps of who-knows-what behind them. They tromp through the mud and trail it along behind them, too. Fence posts hold the evidence of a back/side/rump scratching-session in the form of left-behind, usually muddy hair.
I watched some little tiny pigs today looking for something cute about them. They couldn't have been more than a week old. You would think that something about a baby pig would be redeeming..... Their eyelashes are kind of cute. But not nearly as nice as cows' eyelashes. One little pig stood and looked at me for a minute as I analyzed it, and I almost thought it was cute, but its nose had such an old wrinkled look, it took the cuteness away. When it turned around a trotted away, the half-curled tail almost wagging was almost cute. But not quite.
Pigs even sound nasty. They snort along in the mud, chew with their mouths open, grunt with each step down the road, or squeal with blood-curdling shrillness if scared. I even heard a pig oink and snort in its sleep.
They pig-pile in the mud, sleeping in a mass heap of bristly grunting.
I was also reminded of the story in the Bible about the Prodigal Son who took his inheritance early, blew all his money on partying, and ended up working with someone's pigs. What a low place to sink to! I don't think anyone could get any lower. And he must have smelled horribly when he finally went home. His father certainly loved him to greet him with a hug and kiss in his condition!
If anyone calls someone else a pig, it is a true insult. I won't ever call anyone a pig again after observing them, up close and personal!
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