Yes, I Swore at the Hog

Would this qualify as a Christmas story, since it does occur in December?

The December morning was greeting-card perfect. A light snow was dusting the ground without creating hazards for walking or traveling. Temperatures were a mild 30 degrees, with no wind.

I was enjoying working around my house, preparing to have friends over for dinner. Mellow Christmas jazz blended with the glow of the Christmas tree to create a “most wonderful time of year” atmosphere.

As I was mopping the kitchen floor I spied an old fat hog out in the yard. OK, she was actually young and trim, but I am not going to give her a complement!

(Photo Credit)

But I did not swear at the hog.

I struggled into heavy outdoor clothes, bowed my head against the bitter cold wind and managed to push through the high snow drifts to reach the barn. I got a can of feed to lure the hog back to her pen. It seemed ironic that the one misbehaving was the one being offered a second breakfast.

Nevertheless, I did not swear at the hog.

She followed me into the barn she had escaped from, grunting and snorting the whole time. The other hogs thought she was in distress, so they joined their voices with hers. The resulting racket would have made a person think I was committing mass murder in pigdom.

You may find this hard to believe, but I did not swear at the hog.

Very reluctantly she allowed me to guide her to her pen. Rather than show appreciation that I had not only returned her safely to her home but also had given her a second breakfast, she continued to chew me out with her snorts. In spite of her bad attitude, I scratched her back. (That’s a great way to make friends with a hog, just in case you ever need to know!)

Nope, I did not swear at the hog.

I backed carefully out of her pen; ensuring she didn’t try to rush me and pull off a second escape. I backed into a low-hanging overhead beam, solidly bashing my head.

Yes, I swore at the hog!