Patricia was enjoying the flowers that tasted like honey in the warm summer's day. She rolled in her mud puddle as flies swarmed around her, begging to have a share of her enjoyment. Patricia smiled, and shooed them off with her tail. Her delighted face hid the fact that she was lonely. Patricia had no spouse to fling mud at, no present kids to teach the ways off eating and breathing. No one could capture her eye, for Patricia spent all her nights dreaming of the perfect pig. Larry, from the farm next door, was tolerable, and she was often mated with him, but he had too many spots and was growing too old for Patricia's blissful youth. Patricia needed someone more like her; someone like Patrick.
