My summer, so far, has been fulla suh-prizes. This week’s innerview-ee, for example. My next pooch innerview-ee is not till next week, so I was askin’ around an came across Elvis Lemley.
Elvis is a liddle-bitty PIG-let, maybe 3 pounds, an pretty much bran new, just born June 18. But he’s a smart liddle muffin, an it was Super Crispy Biscuits hearin’ his tail, an meetin’ some of his frens.
For the innerview, me an my assistant drove down this looong, bumpy, dusty road wa-ay out in the country, to a big barn with fences, lotsa grass anna pond.
As we were gettin’ outta the car, a hansome Mal-un-wah poocheroo came trottin’ up.
“Hey there. I’m Dusty. You’re Mr. Bonzo the writer, am I right? My liddle buddy’s expectin’ you. Follow me.”
The barn was nice an cool. Open airy rooms (inna barn they’re Stalls) lined both sides, with horses in some of ’em. Dusty showed us to a comfy couch. As I was gettin’ my notebook out, a lady approached carryin’ the tiny PIG-let, whom she placed gently on the ground.
Elvis kinda looked like he was standing on tip-toe, on his tiny liddle hoofs. He was non-stop wiggly, which, I assumed, was how he got his name. His cuteness factor was off the charts, specially his snuffly liddle snoot, all shiny an flat at the end, snufflin’ non-stop.
“Heh-WOE, Miffter Bodzo! I’m ELL-vus Lemley. This is my GrannyRobin an THIS is our BARN. We BOARD. We are here every day. I play an nap an GrannyRobin does lotsa, ummm, lotsa …”
Elvis turned to Dusty.
“Work.” Dusty said.
“Yes! Work!” Elvis said in his oinky liddle voice. “Dusty’s helpin’ me with speeching cuz I’m bran new an I don’t have all the WURDS or the pro-NUNCE-ments yet.”
“I’m SO happy to meet you all! Master Elvis, YOU are my very first pig innerview-ee!” I told him.
“I all-MOS didn’t make it into the ummmm …” Elvis began, then looked at Dusty.
“World,” said Dusty.
“Yes. World. GrannyRobin rescued my pig mom, Francesca, from the side of, of …”
“Oslo Road,” said Dusty.
“Right. Mom was PREG-nut. At GrannyRobin’s house me an my brother Taz got borned.
Taz stood up right away but I jus lay inna heap. Mom musta thought I were already gone to … um …”
“Pig Heaven,” said Dusty.
“Yep. But GrannyRobin cuddled me an give to me yummy milk from a … umm … a …”
“Goat.”
“Right. Also rice SERI-ell like for HOO-mun pig-lets …”
“Babies,” corrected Dusty.
“Right. Babies. Soon, GrannyRobin puts my mom an Taz out here with the udder pigs, but I too weak. I sleep wiss GrannyRobin. I wakes up for more milk every two, every two …”
“Hours.”
“Hours! Cuzza bein’ HUNG-gree. Then GrannyRobin says, ‘Soon you gotta sleep 6 hours in the nite!’ She sounds like she really wans me to do that. I doesn’t wanna at first cuz 6 took longer than 2, but I finely does an she is very, very, umm …”
“Happy. Relieved. Proud,” Dusty suggested.
“I still love snugglin’ wiff GrannyRobin but I now sleep in my own big umm …”
“Dog crate.”
“YES! With GrannyRobin’s T-shirt anna BLANG-ut an two monkey stuffies which are more big than me. GrannyRobin brings ’em here every day for when I nap in my speshull, my speshull …”
“Stall,” prompted Dusty.
“Yes. Stall. PLUS, GrannyRobin buy for me some just-for-pig-lets food, ‘Squeals of Joy,’ which has GRAIN (I dunno what that is) AN some oats-an-hunny TREETS which Dusty says I will very much like. I get to try ’em next week, when I’ll be MUCH older.”
“That’s exciting, Elvis!” I said. “Looks like you have lotsa frens out here.”
Snuggled in GrannyRobin’s arms, with Dusty trottin’ alongside, Elvis did a fine job with innerductions.
“This is GrannyRobin’s horse Topaz. He’s an Apple Loosely with lotsa spots an one looks like a heart.”
“Sup?” said Topaz, gazing down at us.
“A pleasure, Mr. Topaz,” I replied, looking up into his nose an feeling a tad, well, short.
“GrannyRobin’s other horse, Joey, is still outside. An this is Tika, she’s an Apple Loosely, too, she’s sorta like everybody’s horse Gramma cuz she’s very, very old.”
Tika looked like snowflakes had fallen all over her dark coat.
“Well, little one, you’re lookin’ perky,” she said to Elvis. “Good morning, young man,” she said to me. “Welcome to our barn.” Then she nodded her head and closed her eyes for a morning nap.
“This is BUDDY,” Elvis continued, indicatin’ a bouncy little gold Korgi. “We play lots, ’cept, when I get ’cited an OINK, he thinks I’m a squeaky toy an tries shakin’ me so GrannyRobin makes him stop, cuz I am still fallin’ over time-to-time.”
“Hi, Edwin,” Elvis addressed a pile of white fluff sittin’ inna comfy box onna table “This is Edwin, he’s a, um …”
“RAH-butt,” said Dusty. Edwin looked up long enuf to say, “Humpff.”
“He’s a Grumble Bunny,” Dusty commented.
“I am also having cat frens, Frisco an Tony. They being up in the raff-ters mostly. An outside, in the big pen under those … those …”
“Trees,” said Dusty.
“TREES, is the resta my pig famly. GrannyRobin says I’ll always be a house pig, but I should also get to know fellow pigs, when I’m bigger.”
GrannyRobin, Elvis under her arm, went to the end of the barn an returned with a slice of wadermelon. “I LOVE WADERmelon!” Elvis exclaimed, an, sittin’ in GrannyRobin’s lap, he began munching methodically, like it was his Job. It was hilarious. Across one way, back the other, making soft snorty liddle noises, happily devouring the entire pink slice. When he came up for air, his liddle snoot was covered with wadermelon residoo an he was smilin’.
Heading home, I was smilin’, too, pichurin’ tiny liddle Elvis the rescue pig, safe, warm an happy, with a lovin’ Granny, a barn full of pals, two pooch besties an his very own Forever Home.
