Remember a while back when I innerviewed Elvis Lemley, a liddle black rescue piglet? He was my very first innerviewee of the Porcine Purr-sway-shun, 3 pounds of snuffly cuteness.
SO, this week I innerviewed my second pig, Chubbs Thomas, a grown-up pig who’s at the Totally Other End of the Scale from itsy Elvis. Chubbs weighs lidder-rully 100 times as much as Elvis did.
A frenly lady an man greeted me an my assistant an led us to what they called Chubbs’ Privacy Apartment. I’d never seen anything like it. It was a regular room from the front an side, but around back it was a haffa wall, where you can look into the room. So we looked an there he was.
A pink pig mountain with long briss-ly white hair from his head right down his back. He hadda, round, snuffly nose, pinkish face an big black petal-shapes around his squinty eyes. When he spoke, you could see these two curvy teeth stickin’ out on each side of his face. He was Seriously Cool Kibbles!
“Good afternoon, Mr. Thomas!” I said, bein’ un-fuh-MILL-yur with Pig Etiquette and thinkin’ formality might be the best way to begin.
“It is indeed a good afternoon, Bonzo. Welcome to my home. These are my Mom an Dad, Nicole an Galen. Somewhere about is my feline sister Bella. You may call me Chubbs.”
“Thank you! Chubbs it is. Call me Bonz!” I replied. Chubbs’ voice was sorta gravelly/squeeky/teeth grind-y, with low snorts inner-spursed, but his pruh-NUNCING was good.
“This is a great apartment,” I commented. There was carpet, anna obviously well-loved stuffy teddy bear, anna BLANKET. (I always thought Pigs-Inna-Blanket was just an Urban Legend.) There was also a ramp anna Chubbs-sized door to the outside. “I can’t wait to hear your story.”
“I shall begin then. Pardon me if I don’t get up. I’m not what you’d call Spry, so I pace myself.”
“Understood,” I replied, pencil poised.
“It was 2017, an I was a tiny piglet, if you can imagine it. I’d been purchased by one of Mom’s co-workers, who’d quickly ree-lized she didn’t have the time to properly care for me. So she asked Mom, ‘Do you want a pig?’ She’d been assured (as offen happens) that I was one of those pig varieties that stay cute forever an Never Get That Big, so that’s what she told Mom.”
“Oh, Woof!” I said.
“I KNOW,” agreed Chubbs. “Anyway, Mom said, ‘I’ll ask my huzz-bun.’ So she did.
“‘I’d LOVE a pig!’ he said, so they adopted me. An here’s my favrite part. When I grew, an, grew, just blew right past the mini-pig zone, all the way into my current size, they just kept lovin’ me THE SAME. I’m gonna be 7 in July, an I don’t think BBQ or bacon has EVER crossed their minds.
I’m one lucky piggo.”
“I LOVE that story!” I said, wiping my eyes with my paw. “So what’s your day-to-day like?”
“Me an Mom have a rue-TEEN: At 5:30 every morning, I holler to Mom, to remind her it’s Time To Feed The Pig. That’s ME. So Mom gets her coffee, then pruh-pares my breakfast: Pig Pellets. But, I also get froot an vege-tubbles. Mom an Dad give ’em to me by hand, thru-out the day. I like the ‘by-hand’ part cuz it makes me feel significant. Apples are my favrite an I frequently request another slice or two. I also enjoy bananas an grapes, an nuts, which I get for special holiday treats. But NOT BELL PEPPERS!
“I would also like to note, for the record, Pigs are not dirty. Or dumm. We’re ackshully smart. An Tidy. We only roll about in dirt or mud, like a number of other fellow creatures I might add, to stay cool. Plus, I love to be brushed. And I know several human words. Me an Mom have bonded, is what she calls it. I think that means I have taught her a whole lot of Pig Speak. I’ve learned, as well. For example, when I hear Mom gettin’ out her keys I know she’s gonna leave for a bit. She always comes to tell me goodbye an when she’s gonna be back so I don’t become concerned, which I think is very thoughtful, don’t you?”
“Extremely so,” I replied, impressed.
“So let me show you my dining room and outdoor space.”
With that, he stood up, walked over to his Pig Door an Ramp, an exited. His Mom led me an my assistant outside and around the corner into the guh-RAGH, where another liddle room had been created with Another Pig Fence. “This is my dining room,” Chubbs said, indicating his food an water bowls.
Then, “Follow me!” he squeak/snorted as he exited thru another pig-sized door an ramp out into his yard.
We walked around to the fence where Chubbs was standing in a nice side yard. “I take a lotta naps here,” he said, an promptly began one.
Just then a gray tabby cat appeared an said in a frenly way. “Hi! I’m Bella. Chubbs is out for a while. Come’on back an meet my pals.”
“Um, OK, sure! Why not?” I said, checkin’ Chubbs, who was, in fact, out. We followed the liddle cat to the back yard, which had all sorts of cool plants, some shady trees and a buncha CHIGGINS. Soon as Bella appeared, they all gathered around us.
“Hey, guys, this is Bonzo. He’s a Dog, but don’t worry. He’s Cool Catnip.” And, as they bwakked an clucked uppa storm (which I interpreted as frenly chiggin greetings), Bella said, “This is Buttercup an Ding an Floyd (she’s a girl) an Chequanda an Rock-an-Rolla an Lil’ Kim.”
“Meetin’ you all is an unexpected pleasure,” I told them. With a final round of bwakks/clucks, they dispersed into the trees.
Headin’ home, I was thinkin’ about what a fun an unusual time I’d had an, once again, feelin’ fortunate to have such a fun job, gettin’ to meet all you fascinatin’ fellow pets.
Till next time,
