We Are Pig Farmers

At first Pig Meadows did not seem to me like much of a wow. They head toward the barn, a bit closer; I can stay in the house right? So large! Children say. You should see the biggest pinkest sow. I have seen her from afar, and as far as I am concerned this is all right. We are pig farmers, my uncle said. Come out and say hi. I was scared to death, this was a man-eating pig as far as I knew. What is wrong with you? My cousin asked. You could at least come try. So, I met the largest pig; his name was Old Cornflower Blue. OCB was a dandy four hundred- and twenty-two-pound hog. He ate all of our garbage, which was handy indeed every day. His best friend was Tee-Willager, a fantastic Great Dane dog. They soon became my besties in every single way. I was so glad that I gave them a chance to be my friend. My life on the farm started that fine summer fly-bugging day. Now I sing that we are pig farmers until the utmost end. And frankly, I would not have it any other way.