Sunday, July 25, 2010

happenings at the waltons

Another day here on the homestead, another story no one would believe was true. Today Scout the piglet finally accomplished something he's been attempting for a week-escape. Did you know that pigs are smarter than dogs? True I swear. The other day while on the phone with my girlfriend, Ro, Scout and Droopy were attempting to root under the fence. I pulled the phone from my ear and shouted their names and told them to come. They ran to their gate, and sat when I hollered for them to knock it off. Even from where I was they were giving me this reproachful look. I can't even get Gypsy Rose to stop something that quickly. So there's one example of their intelligence. I know we sure didn't train them. (Unless them running for the bucket of food counts.)

Anyways enough of my eww shiny moment back to the escape. So the kids are outside done with chores. When in comes Bella and Madison, both extremely excited. All I can hear through the gabber is Bella's excited exclamation of "tout" over and over. Two year old talk for Scout, but I'm hearing out. And thinking the chicks are escaping again. I go running in fear one of our hard earned fuzzies is hurt or missing.

Halfway to the barn I stop and wait for Bella who is hollering insistently for mommy to wait. Which is when the boys meet me and point to where the dogs are laying in a heap. They tell me he's over there, and I'm thinking I'm gonna skin me some dogs like Cruella De Ville for a coat. Thinking they crunching on some chicken nuggets.

I start hollering their names "Princess, Diesel, Zu-" and stop. Cause as they all lift their heads I see their new buddy. "Scout" I say in astonishment. He gets up and lopes to me, like its an everyday occurence for him. He gets to me and starts nibbling my feet.

I decide to test his canine like devotion. And walk to the gate of his pen-he follows! I open the gate tell him to get in, he gives me this disgusted look-and WALKS IN. I give him a little chin rub and he turns his back saunters over to his pool and plops down. His back to me the whole time.

Worse attitude than Gypsy Rose when you dare to give her potato. So now I'm left wondering if we have a Babe or Wilbur on our hands. We keep saying he's bacon but if he doesn't start growing soon this could be bad. I've already got four spoiled furbabies I really don't need one that eats like a pig.

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