BUT THAT’S...ANOTHER STORY!
Her mother died
giving birth
so from that day to
this
we considered her OURS
one of the family.
Ok, so...she was
a pig
but oh such
a pretty pig
and we kept her
in the caravan
reared her as one
of our own
almost considered her as
human.
Oh the squeals of
children &...pig.
Well, she grew & grew
until the day came for her
to be serviced.
Our maiden pig
a fine Welsh White gilt.
Now, being English
amongst the Welsh
I knew you needed
a license
to move a pig
from area to area
so, I presented my self
to our two man police force.
Well, of course
they had licenses
for the this of that
or the that of this
but alas
no license
for the moving of
a pig.
They had somehow
run out.
The licenses not the pigs.
So, they gave me
a license for a crane
& crossed out the bit
not pertaining to a pig.
I thought they might
ask me
how many wheels
on your pig or
what type of machinery
is your pig?
But when it was done
it was done
a kind of
Frankenstein form
half crane/half pig.
And I was free now
to move my pig
where so ever I wished.
And so I brought her
to the boar.
And then there was the time
there was a pig born
without an *******
( not an uncommon
occurrence they told me ).
And so I set off for the vets
on my motorcycle and sidecar
but
that’s
. . .another story.