Wednesday, 9 April 2014

The Little Lost Pig

I chanced upon an unusual sight this morning as I patrolled my territory: I encountered a diminutive pig, shuffling vaguely around and looking rather disconsolate. I could see that it was a sow; she'd not only the characteristic pig smell which marks them out as creatures whose company a self-respecting cat wouldn't naturally seek - but the aroma was overlaid by an additionally offensive odour which I immediately identified as the scent extracted from the bowels of the Common Porpoise - a fragrance that is highly treasured by certain humans for reasons best known to themselves. Some cats quite like this, but I personally find it repulsive to the point of nausea.

I asked the pig's name, and she told me that her proper name was Milly; she'd recently been found by her owner to have raided the farm's family larder and gorged herself to bursting point on human delicacies to which she hadn't been rightfully entitled. However, from her bearing I could immediately discern that she had no sense of guilt or remorse whatsoever over such a transgression; her only sin was to be discovered. Having been obliged by her master to grunt a cursory apology to the householders, she'd thought that such a grudging gesture would naturally suffice, and life would surely continue in the same vein. The farmer - a devoutly unprincipled man - had assured Milly that she was forgiven, and that was the end of the matter. However, the rest of the householders - as well as the neighbours (who feared for their own larders as well) - bayed for her summary dismissal from the farm.

Since the stench of Eau De Common Porpoise was so deeply ingrained into her tissues, she'd be no good for meat - it would be hopelessly inedible. And such deficiency in moral character was hardly desirable fro breeding purposes, so she was banished from her familiar sty - hence the wandering.

I muttered a quick farewell and made a hasty exit. The smell was just too overpowering...

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