It’s been a while since we’ve had a Pig Dog update. Mostly because this is the only sort of picture I can seem to get of him lately; at my feet, smiling like a fool.
He’s filling out these days. He no longer looks so much like an anorexic giraffe, but he still doesn’t seem to know where his feet are. He trips on the stairs and manages to land square on my stomach every morning when he jumps on the bed. I had been contributing his clumsiness to a lack of coordination and his stilt-like legs, but the unbridled enthusiasm with which he operates under all circumstances doesn’t seem to help.
He’s turning on now, learning that the big black and white steak and the pork chops on hooves are, somehow, integral to his very existence. It’s probably one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever had the privilege to observe.
We’ve taken him out a few times and this past weekend he helped gather up three seventy pound feeders who’d slipped past me at the gate. His restraint and calculation is incredible. I can’t help but feel this boy was made for me.