Sophie (the 15 month old baby) stalked me up the stairs to my room (which was her room until three days ago) so I generously and magnanimously allowed her to come into the room and then, with even greater love and devotion, I picked up said child and let her look out the window. She loves to look out the window.
As we were looking out of the window I noticed the most terrible squealing sound. It sounded like a small, angry pig. So I looked for weird birds in trees or small babies in yards. At one point I thought I found two sparring turtles, which turned out to be large ping-pong looking paddles... also turtles don't squeal but I was in a tizzy trying to figure out what the sound was so my powers of perception and discrimination were lacking.
Finally, I looked straight down and saw a teeny, tiny black pig in a rectangle of a pen. I was confused by this having never seen a pig at the neighbor's house before but I just moved back and it has been seven months so who knows. I also noticed that this small, plastic pen was not anchored to the ground and the angry, teeny pig was ramming into it and making it move.
In response I grabbed a confused Sophie and took off downstairs to ask Stephanie if the neighbors had had the pig for a while. Maybe he rammed into the pen all the time and I just didn't know. Stephanie seemed just as confused about the pig and we ran upstairs to check it out.
And the pig had escaped.
He was still in the yard and Steph saw him so we took off running to save the pig.
Here is what I have learned about this piggy:
His name is Winston.
He does not like being chased, held, or touched.
He feels safe when cornered between a motorcycle, a set of concrete steps and the side of a house.
Anyway, we didn't manage to pick him up but we did manage to alert the neighbors and assist in corralling him into the backyard. He then squealed well into the night and I had to wrestle with whether or not I regretted my decision to save him.
I decided I did not regret it, but it was a close call.
