Some folks like their pig on a beach… or, more specifically, under the beach… buried on a bed of coals and wrapped in ti leaves and slowly smoking to a tender tastiness.
But this pig apparently isn’t the main dish at the luau… he’s the guest of honor.
Rex, from the Deer Camp Blog sent me this article today, and I couldn’t help but share it with you folks here.
Hope you get a giggle out of it.
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Maybe we should change the phrase from “it’s a dog’s life” to “it’s a pig’s life”. Although I know some dogs that are pretty spoiled too.
Pretty funny, Cazadora.
My dad had a thing about pigs too. Actually, it wasn’t him so much as I think it started as a joke after he worked/lived on a pig farm for a short while after leaving the service. Then he became a cop, so the pig jokes got even more intense. His friends were always bringing him pig icons, sculptures, toys, photos, etc. It culminated when mom bought him a real pig… not a potbelly or something, but a plain ol’ red pig.
That thing became quite the pet. I taught it to retrieve, and when I said, “dinner time,” I had my dog and the pig trained to bring me their bowls.
Amazing critters.
Tasty too.
That’s great! Sounds like it’s good to be the pig. But, if you crossed its path, would you take him?
Well… if he acted tame I’d probably not.
But he’s sure got a nice set of cutters! And well fed, too!
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I've spent my lifetime outdoors, hunting, fishing, diving, horseback riding, and pretty much anything else I could find to occupy ...
My dear departed Dad – who wasn’t above sharing cheap wine and beer with our pigs – would’ve LOVED that story! Thanks for putting that up!