Pot Bellied Pig

I took my daughter and her friend to visit the nearby farm of Mr. L (who is a portly man with a big red beard), and Mr. L and I had the following conversation:

 Mr. L: "Did you see my potbelly piglets?"

 Me: "Yeah."

 Mr. L: "You wanna buy one?"

 Me: "Oh, no. They're so cute. I don't think I could butcher them."

 Mr. L: "They're not for eating! I'm selling them as pets! Like Mr. Piggy, over there. He's a pet. He just wanders around and stuff. He was even house trained with a litter box, at one point."

 He gestured towards a 300 pound monstrosity of sweet swine, lounging in front of the barn. Mr. Piggy gave me a little grunt and a nod, to indicate he knew he was being spoken of, and he approved of this message. If Mr. Piggy were mine, I thought, I would have named him Dreadnought. He looked big.

 Me: "Don't they eat a lot?"

 Mr. L: "Ah, no, Mr. Piggy there just eats some cat food and our table scraps, that's all. And these piglets are miniature potbelly, so they won't be growing that big... Don't know what Mr. Piggy would do if we had a garden, though, come to think of it."

 Me: "I do have a garden." Our respective children (and an extra one I borrowed) were running around now, picking up squealing piglets and generally having a good time. Did I mention this guy, Mr. L, has a reindeer? This guy Mr. L has a reindeer. That's not exactly relevant, but perhaps noteworthy. He has pretty much every animal. The kids were now riding his Icelandic sheep, which he had in a pen in the barn. The sheep were surprisingly small. His little two year old boy wanted to do it, too, but he was too small to climb the fence, so Mr. L picked the kid up and then lowered him in the pen by one arm. The boy was delighted.

 Mr. L: "You can actually potty train a potbelly real easily. You just let them in your house, and the first place they go, that's were you put the litter box. They'll always go there, forever after that." I pondered this for a moment.

 Me: "But what if they go in the middle of your living room? And then you have this potbelly pig litter box in the middle of your living room?" He laughed.

 Mr. L: "Well, you can move it just a little bit over, each day, and it will change over time, gradually, like."

 Me: "And you have people over for a party or something, and you're sitting in the living room, and then this big ole pig walks in and just poops in front of everyone? Oh my god!"

 Mr. L laughed. I guess he knew at that point that I would not be buying a potbellied pig from him.

 *********** On the way home, Little Z said,
 "Did you know that that little boy killed one of those piglets? I guess he squeezed it too hard."

 "Today?! Just now?"

 "No, another day." And a good time was had by all. Except for the baby pig, who died.

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