A Knack For Getting Yourself Into Weird Situations

Well, it’s true. Today, you lassoed a pig in a graveyard–and since you drank coffee before bed and are suffering from insomnia, you will do a poor job of writing this adventure.

It was just another day. The pigs got out again. Nothing unusual about that, though still entirely inexcusable. Edouard and Maria had escaped, only this time they’d left the property and had started turning up the soil in the graveyard. This was bad news. The city council would be very upset.

You grabbed a can of corn and starting shaking it to gain the pigs’ attention, to see through which hole they’d escaped. And you found it. It just so happened that while you were squeezing though this small hole in the fence between the edge of the farm and the graveyard, belly down on the ground, a family had come to pay respects to a long-buried relative. Perhaps a father, two grown-up daughters, and grandma. Who knows? But they were surprised to see you pop out of the ground. When you’d gained your feet, you apologized for the pigs. Told them you were doing what you could to get them out of there, futilely shaking the can of corn. No bother.

But when the pigs didn’t cooperate, the father decided to be a do-gooder and tried to help you corral the pigs toward the hole in the fence. No go. Grandma was looking mighty defensive of her relative’s grave, which had thus far neither been turned nor trampled. After 5 minutes, the father suggested you get a rope, which at that point didn’t seem like such a bad idea. The pigs were not enticed by your offering of corn–they have never trusted you, most likely because you never feed them usually hurl disparaging comments their way with every encounter (usually the aftermath of another escape). You came back with a couple ropes, and unfortunately with the farm’s idiot German Shepherd in tow. You handed one rope to the father, and took the other. After making a lasso, you surprised yourself with the ease with which you managed to snag Edouard. Then you cringed at the commotion he made.

The poor pig didn’t know what to do. Squealed and kicked maniacally. Maria ran away immediately, knowing fully well what was up. You tried to control the pig, but the fucking dog got excited and started nipping and biting Edouard until both dog and pig were in a complete frenzy. The father could not snag Maria and had only managed to chase her back toward the hole in the fence, but Maria veered right, and charged at Grandma, who panicked and tripped over a grave. You handed Edouard’s rope to the father and took the free lasso, hoping to catch the girl pig. You chased her ’round the graveyard, leaping and trampling over graves, charging down rows, climbing mounds of dirt and rock, darting, veering, cutting off her every move. Buuut… she’s always been cleverer than the other pig, and you were unable to catch her, feeling more and more embarrassed (embarrassed by an animal, yes) that she’d bested you.

You heard tremendous squealing. Screaming, really. The family was trying to shove Edouard through the hole in the fence, which seemed about as impossible as shoving a cat into a box. He was not having it. There was so much noise, Grandma got fed up. The daughters did as well, as they were uselessly throwing kernels of corn at the pig, like rice at a wedding. The dog didn’t stop biting and barking at Edouard. You thought the soundtrack to your life ought to have played circus music.

In the end, the pigs were returned with the help of Declan, whom they followed far too willingly, making you seethe with indignation.

Just another day at the farm.

In other news, you spent February 8th puking your guts out. Coincidence? Maybe. You also lost your bracelet that day. Coincidence? Who knows.

Perhaps sleep will find you now.

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