Oh, wait. That's no good. We don't name our pigs. How about a spin-off an old favorite?
Pig, pigs, the magical meat.
The more you eat, the more you sheet.
The more you sheet, the better you'll feel,
So let's have pigs at every meal.
While it makes my immature self smile, it doesn't even make sense. Perhaps a different old favorite?
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
The bacon is yummy,
and the ham is good, too!
No, still too juvenile. I can do better. Perhaps a limerick?
Three small pigs came to live at The Coop.
They got very sick and had runny poop.
Coop Mom gave them shots
They felt better. Lots!
And lived to one day become soup.
Need the recipe?
How about to a song? Perhaps to the tune of Twinkle, Twinkle?
For five months I cared for you
Even when you chewed my shoe.
In return you ran away
Causing me to go cray-cray.
Your wacky antics wore me out
"To the butcher!" I did shout.
Or not.
It's been a long, long season with this group of pigs. They were a feisty bunch. Since April, they have managed to get out three times...
 |
| Once when I wasn't home |
 |
| Once after the Labor Day party |
 |
| And once recently when it was caught on tape |
They've all gotten sick, coming close to death (well, one did come to death), causing me to learn how to give pigs shots in the neck.
 |
| Surely you remember the diagnosis and the solution. |
They have destroyed our barn, one piece of wood at a time, which means lots of work for us before next year's pigs arrive.
One of them even bit me in the leg.
Am I sorry to see them go?
Um, no.
Not one little bit.
They are gone, with very little trouble. I wasn't even here when they were loaded onto the truck. All I had to do was get them locked in the barn before the truck got here.
(Of course, the big kids were the only ones to help me, so I was locked in the barn with the pigs and had to squeeze/climb my way out, but Mission: Accomplished.)
Turken wanted to take a video, so here you go. Blame yourselves for my new obsession with adding videos to my posts. Lead up to the video: I had an armload of apples, the pigs followed me into the barn. While I fed the apples to the pigs, the kids put up the gate. When I watched the video, I thought, "The kids had some good points. I probably should have listened to them." At one point, Giant was cheering, "Go Mom!" before I climbed out. I was clearing away the cobwebs at the time, hoping I didn't get a spider in my hair during the exiting of the barn.
In closing, a(n?) haiku.
The pigs were here. Four!
Only three went out the door
On their own four feet.
Sure, that wasn't professional grade poetry or anything, but I'd like to see you do better.
No, really.
Leave me a poem in the comments about this year's pigs. Be creative! Choose any poem style you like. I'm thinking I'll even have a prize for the best one. (Since I'm flying by the seat of my pants, I have no idea what that prize would be. The least I can do is put it up on Facebook. Really, I'm only doing this because I have funny, witty, smart people reading this blog, and I know you will come up with some fantastic poems.)
Have a lovely day!
