A Porker in the Family

I had been asked to make the rounds of the local farms one week in the absence of my boss, Dr. Johnson. Most of the week was uneventful; I saw the usual horse vaccinations, sprained dog paws, and sick cows. However, when I got to the MacPherson farm, I saw something extraordinary.

While I was talking to farmer MacPherson, a pig came ambling around the corner of the barn. What was extraordinary about it was that the pig had three artificial legs!

I asked farmer MacPherson about this curious animal. Why would anybody give a pig even one artificial leg, much less three?

“Wal,” he drawled, “that there ain’t no ordinary pig. Let me tell you — one day ah was out baling some hay, and I hopped off’n the tractor to check the tire, which was kinda wobbly. Wouldn’t’cha know it, the tractor started to roll of its own accord, and trapped me right there under the wheel. Just then old Pinky — the pig, that is — wandered by and saw whut’d happen, and skeedadled back to the house and fastened his teeth on my wife’s dress, and wouldn’t let go until he dragged her out to where I was layin’, and then she got the tractor off me. That’s one smart pig — better’n Lassie, I’d say.”

I was quite impressed. I knew pigs were pretty intelligent, but I had never heard of a pig doing anything like that. “That’s amazing,” I said, “But that still doesn’t explain the artificial limbs.”

“Wal, lemme tell ya about another time,” MacPherson said. “Mah son was down at the swimmin’ hole yonder a couple summers ago, and he hit his head on a big log out in the middle of the water. He was about to go down for the third time, when ol’ Pinky jumped into the water, swam out to him, grabbed him by the shorts with the teeth, and drug ‘im coughin’ an’ splutterin’ up onto shore. Saved mah son’s life, that pig did.”

“Incredible!” I exclaimed. “Most pigs can’t even swim! But the artificial legs…?”

“Wal, last year the old farmhouse burned down,” the farmer continued. “Like as not we all would have been cinders, but for that little porker. We was all asleep when the fire started, but ol’ Pinky ran squealing ’round the house ’til we all woke up, and went and dragged my youngest daughter from her bedroom just seconds ‘fore the roof collapsed.”

“That’s one special pig,” I admitted, “But please, tell me, why does Pinky have three artificial legs?”

“Wal,” said farmer MacPherson, “A pig like that’s just too good to eat all at once.”