A Strang Thing Happened Today
By Margaret Timms
A strange thing happened to me today and I’m here to tell you about it while I can still remember everything…..
Truth to tell, it has been a funny day from the start. Mom’s been crying off and on all day, she had a nap in my easy chair this afternoon (which she almost never does) with her feet tucked under my belly and a blankie over both of us, she hasn’t done any of her work … she just sits staring off into space. I saw her going through a very big book looking at pictures and computer messages and cards and she was crying again. I was starting to get worried and I curled up near where she was sitting and drifted off to sleep.
I no sooner closed my eyes than I saw this HUGE black pig with a white blazed diamond on his face come up to me. I was scared at first till he said, “Hi, little one…. don’t be frightened…. my name is Snortimer and I’ve come to tell you a story.”
He told me that for as many years as there are hairs on a buffalo our race of pigs has been raised as food for hungry people. He said we are lucky to be some of the first pigs in history to be bred just to be companions to our human families. He told me that he was one of the first pot bellied pigs to be adopted into a human family and that he had a wonderful life. He was kept warm and dry and very very well fed and he had everything a pig could want. He said his human Mom adored him and took great delight in his presence in her life. Then one day he had a visit from the great pig in heaven and he told Snortimer that there was a pig just born not long before that needed to be saved from an awful future and he asked Snortimer if he would be kind and wait for his human family at the Rainbow Bridge because it was now another pig’s turn at the good life.
He went on to say, “Well, Binki, one year ago today I lay in my room for the last time, and I looked around me and I said, ‘Yes, life has been good, more than I could ever have expected or hoped for,” and I said good-bye to my Mom, whose heart was breaking in grief.”
“Binki that was in this very room, one year ago today, and you are that lucky pig that needed my Mom so much. I was assigned the very special task of watching over you and Mom while you’re on the earth and you can find me most days perched over Mom’s right shoulder… I know you’ve sensed me there.”
Snortimer told me when Mom cries to put my snootie softly on her and give her a love for him. He told me to be extra nice to Dad cause he never got to be good friends with him and he wished he had. He told me if I need a friend why just look over by Mom and there he’ll be! He told me to watch over Mom, too, and the silly dog Dax and I thanked him for agreeing to be our guardian pigangel and for giving up his turn on earth for me. I woke up a little later and Mom had fallen asleep again, maybe to dream of her lost friend, Snortimer, dancing in flower meadows with his gossamer wings glinting in the sparkling sunshine.
love to you all,
© Margaret Timms 1997
Surviving the Monsoons
By Margaret Timms
Hey, Hi and glub glub pigfolks!
I gotta tell you this winter weather is a pain in the hams! Mom’s out here in the office all the time, reading skillions of messages and I hardly ever get a chance to grab a minute on the computer anymore. Tonight Mom and Dad are out in the new (1972, whatever that means) motorhome, scrubbing and polishing and having a great time getting ready for our first trip cruisin’ the high roads. This is their novel way of enjoying these dreary winter days. They have this really neat ramp system figured out, so I can get into the motorhome. Have you ever SEEN one of those knee-pounding, tummy jiggling, four-wheeled rattletraps? You can’t hardly turn around in them. They are going to have to do some SERIOUS bribing before I condescend to let them coax me up that ramp. They took that silly dog, Dax, into the MH and all she did was shiver her brains in. Can’t wait to go on our first trip… Dad’s already figured out how to load the ramp onto the automatic boat loader and where to set up my new crate. (My Christmas present from Mom).
We had enough snow to seriously hamper foot traffic the other day and the tarp Dad put over my outside patio got loaded up with snow and made the supports collapse in the middle of the night. I would have bellowed, but I was too sleepy after my hard day chasing the dog around and just cursed it a time or two. Thank the Great Hog in Heaven I haven’t been going outside much. I could have been squished like a bug! I haven’t been able to get out to the bird feeder for WEEKS. I don’t mind going out in a nice warm rain, providing it’s not too heavy, and there’s some sun, but there’s no way I’m taking these cute little trotters out there to wade through that cold, claggy mud just to suck up a few measley seeds. I get Mom to go out to the garage and pick the peanuts out of the birdseed BEFORE she fills the feeder. It’s a MUCH better solution than getting my feet dirty and takes less than half the time. I find Mom is much faster at sorting out the seeds if I keep a steady droning squeal going and nudge her on the leg once in awhile. Running on the spot and standing on my hind legs works well, too. If she forgets peanut duty I just mosey on over to the door and run my snootie up and down the bottom of it a few times till the sound drives her off her stool and she comes a- running. The only sound she hates worse than that is my full-bodied scream, or, secondly, the sound of my snootie ripping up the linoleum. Well, hoggies and hoggettes, I hope you’re surviving the monsoons better than I am. I can’t wait to hang up the snorkel gear and put on my garden clogs. I’m hog-tired of this rain!
Wishing you sunny days and long grass….
© 1998 Margaret Timms
Pig Tales by Binki:
“Binki and That Computer Guy”
By Margaret Timms
Hey, Hi and Yeehaw Hogs and Pigettes!
That computer fix-it guy is here so often I’m beginning to feel like his littermate! I can always tell when he’s going to visit, cause Mom starts calling the computer all the nasty names she can think of, and her hair stands on end so she looks like a chubby version of the Statue of Liberty.
The first thing the computer guy says is “I don’t understand how THAT could have happened.” Mom says, “All I did was push some buttons and BLAMMO… blue screen of death!!!” My Dad thinks Mom is a very creative computer-wrecker! Now, you’ll have to understand about this computer guy. He’s a DOG man. He’s never owned a pig, or even thought of owning a pig, and he couldn’t believe anyone would WANT to own a pig. Show’s you where his mind’s at, doesn’t it? Well, the very first thing this guy does when he meets me is to say, “Hi, Binki”, and as he’s reaching down to pat me on the face he asks Mom, “Does he bite?”. Hmmmmmmph! First of all, I’m a SHE, second of all, ASK before you pet, and third of all YES, I might bite, if I felt like it! Mom was already stressing out enough over the computer, so I just lunged at him and gave my fiercest BARK! Even a DOG man should understand that.
After more than half a dozen visits to *fix* the computer, and repeated pathetic attempts to pet me, I allowed him to let me root on his shoes and chew the plastic covers on his laces and snuffle my old snootie up his pantleg. NOTHING makes a computer guy jump up off the stool faster than a cold wet snootie on the bare calf! I almost fell over I was laughing so hard. I know Mom was laughing, too, cause I could hear it in her voice, as she shooed me away from him.
Yesterday, the computer guy finally hit on the magic combination….. TREATS and PETS. So while he was feeding me some yummy goodies I allowed him to pet me for a moment, until the food was gone, of course. He was still here at my bedtime, so I jumped up into the easy chair, I hung out the do-not-disturb sign and let Mom know I needed my blankies and a kiss. I had just snuggled down for the night and this goofy guy reaches over and starts petting my head!!! I jumped to my feet and tried my best to give him a resounding bite, but he was too fast for me. Mom gave me a talking-to, and as the computer guy was leaving I stuck my tongue out at him. It doesn’t matter who he tells, no one will believe him, especially not my Mom, who doesn’t even believe I can type! snorf snorf chortle.
May your bits and bytes all be edible,
© 1998 Margaret Timms
Binki and the Iron Monster
(a note to Dumpling)
By Margaret Timms
Yo Dumpling! You’ll NEVER believe this:
So there I was, doing a whoop-dee-do around the easy chair and clang! Smacked right into this metal monster. Well, didn’t I pick up my trotters and make a mad dash for the great outdoors, hollering my cute little lungs out? You bet I did, and that silly dog, Dax got the wind up and came running and barking after me. I was gasping and wheezing and generally screechless and I *I’d delete this I* had to pause by the bird feeder to collect myself.
After I got my mohawk under control I took a deep breath and cautiously approached my piggy door to see what had taken over the office. There was Mom, standing by the monster….scared me into next week to see her so close to it! Mom kept telling me, “It’s OK, it’s just the ironing board”. So big deal, like that made me feel any better! She had to come over and tell me that Dad said, “If you’re going to spend all day out there with Binki you better take the ironing with you..it’s YOUR turn!”. Mom explained they get this hot thing and they run it all over those lovely fresh clothes and take all the nice wrinkles out of them. Go figure! I told her that was a stupid waste of time, when she could be giving me the attention I deserve…. popcorn, apples, brushing…. So I had to make another trip to the feeder to console myself. She got really oinked with me when I used my muddy snout to put the wrinkles back in those nice warm shirts. I tell ya Dumpster, it’s a hard life having these humans for pets….sometimes I have to have some food therapy to get over the worst of what they do….. sigh…. truth’s stranger than fiction.
hawgs and kisses
© Margaret Timms 1997
Yo! I‘m Two!
By Margaret Timms
Howdy Hogmeisters and Hogmistresses!
It’s my birthday and things aren’t looking too great for little Miss Birthdaybink. So far I’ve had my usual pellets and a measley handful of popcorn, half an apple, a corner of toast, cherry pits from the office waste basket, an old banana skin that I retrieved from behind the garbage can and a breath mint that Mom gave to me after I huffed in her face. And it’s already 10:30! Where’s the cake? What about breakfast crepes with strawberries and cream? Cafe au lait? I haven’t even had a slurp of orange juice! If they’re gonna be this stingy when I’m still a little (comparatively speaking) cute baby, what’s it gonna be like when I’m a teenager? I’ll probably have to beg for my pellets. I’m weak with disappointment. I expected at least a dance band, if not a small orchestra, balloons, hot and cold running grandkids bearing handfulls of treats, a smorgasbord of tasty delights and a few lovely wrapped gifts to savour….something at least slightly indicative of my position in this household. But so far, blooey! And to make matters worse, Mom is practising Japanese. She learned a few words from one of our house guests and now she keeps saying them over and over. I woke up to her mumbling, “Doy dashee mashtay,” this morning, and for a minute I thought I’d been deported! Whadda birthday! That silly dog, Dax came in my room first thing this morning with a piece of peanut butter toast and I thought “Great! …my first birthday treat of the day”, but the little bleeping *&#!~ ate it herself. Not only that, but it’s pouring rain and not even one little squirmy came in under my bedroom door. All I found was one waterlogged slug which I rolled over a few times and then forgot about. A few minutes later I stepped on it with my bare trotter. Gak! Have you ever had a slug squish up between your trotters? Thank the Great Hog in Heaven I didn’t break it’s skin! ewwwwwww, yuckers. Boy, am I ever having a BAD DAY! Things better improve around here or I’m going to have to bite someone (like maybe that silly dog Dax, or maybe even Dad). Birthday, shmirthday. …..grump, gripe, moan, complain, whine, whimper, sniff, Binki
© Margaret Timms 1998
By Margaret Timms
Rub-a-dub-dub there’s a pig in the tub
And I wish there was room for me
She’s so fat that her hip hangs over the lip
And warm water has caused her to pee
I don’t want to sprinkle on top of her tinkle
The grapes that I’ve saved for this job
Yet I fear if I fail it that sow will hightail it
And forever she’ll look like a slob
Here comes the dilemma my sweet little Emma
Won’t get out without her grape treat
Yet I still need to keep them don’t want her to eat them
I’ll have to resort to deceit
So I turn quickly round put the dish on the ground
And Emma steps lightly out
Grab the washtub and spill it then quickly refill it
While I grab the dish back with a shout
Now no one would sneer or act like it’s queer
If I told them I’m making penoche
Yet they all flip their wig that I’m scrubbing a pig
They think it’s a bunch of hogwash!
© Margaret Timms 2000