Are you surprised? You shouldn’t be. After all, my type of farm animal is rather intelligent.
You may call me swine, hog, or domestic pig. Be sure to include domestic when using the final. I don’t want to be confused with the wild branch of the family.
Humans and my kind have been interacting practically since the beginning of time. I used to forage in the forest, stir up the soil with my snout for some easy planting. I’m not a fussy eater — leftover produce and crops are welcome in my diet. In case you wonder — I’m not being lazy. With my rather small lungs — stamina is not my strong suit. Heat also bothers me and I’ll seek out puddles or other shallow water to find relief. (Not unlike humans with their beach and swimming habits.)
What am I thinking about today? I’m puzzling why I didn’t get mentioned in Fine Lines. Here I was, reading along and enjoying the story. I actually got a little excited when they started talking about the park where I live. But did they mention me? No — hay storage. Poultry. Longhorn. They get a line or more. And me? Nothing. It’s enough to make me go find some mud and sulk.
Aside from my absence, Fine Lines is a great read. It’s an excellent choice for any weekend or even a mid-week escape from the chores and cares of the day. Here’s a link: https://bit.ly/49FtvjF




















