Savage Snout: Encounters of the Pot-bellied Kind

3: Grim ReaPig

Pig-pig's black snout was sticking out the edge of the blanket. I couldn't see his piggy-eyeballs, just darkness. But from his frozen position, I felt certain he was staring at me - watching my every movement from the black void. Pig as Grim Reaper, like out of some macabre, backwards fairy tale. Reminded me of the wolf in Grandma's bed, ready to rip Red's head off. But pigs are usually the cute, hapless victims of the Big Bad Wolf.  He looked menacing, but he was probably just scared. His ancestors never passed down the "ingratiate yourself to the humans" house-pet gene. It was probably like me being abandoned in a rainforest, terrified and painfully aware that I'm the only one of my species in existence. So he didn't come running up to me, eager for a scratch behind his piggy ears; he made weird, guttural noises and he looked obscenely large under those blankets, but I would give him the benefit of the doubt.

I rose and took a Neil Armstrong-style step towards him, my hand outstretched in case, like a dog, he wanted to sniff me out first. (All animals are the same, right?) 

"Hi Pig Pig," I said in the most maternally gentle voice I could muster, which ended up a few pitches too high. He continued his impression of. a statue. I took another another slow step for Mankind and crouched down. I was half-way to him now and he didn't seem bitter about it. Probably because I love animals and animals love me back.

"Pig-pig -" I sing-songed.

Suddenly, he shook like a whale and bellowed like one too. I jumped back in alarm. A series of even louder grunts and body-shaking. Julie popped her head out from the kitchen.

"Pig Pig," she scolded. "Be nice."

I back tracked fast to the sofa. "Maybe he needs a chance to get to know me," I ventured. While waiting for Julie to bring the tea, I tried to stare him down. Kind of rude, but he wasn't being a good host either. His blankets had slipped slightly in the pig-quake. Now, a sparkle of light reflected from one beady eyeball, set back in the shadows. His porcine snout twitched intermittently as if attempting to inhale my cells circulating through the air. When she walked past him with the tea, he started up all sorts of snorts and honks again, blankets a-tremble.

"Oh my God," I exclaimed, laughing nervously.

"Oh Pig-Pig! Be nice, this is Auntie Sera." She placed two mugs of milky tea on the coffee table, then and went over to plant a kiss on Pig-pig's protruding nose. Another cacophony of disembodied noises. I guess he wasn't in the mood for smooching. Julie chuckled, there was no sense from her that this bizarre behavior was anything out of the ordinary.  No doubt, this was her version of adorable.

"Is he friendly?" I asked. Of course, Pig-pig's reputation had proceeded him. I knew he wasn't, but I wanted to hear it from the Pig Mama's mouth, so to speak.

Julie scratched Pig-pig's under chin, "Yes, he is, aren't you, Pig-Pig? You very fwiendly. You're just vewy shy." Pig honked back at her in agreement...or in disagreement...I can't translate Pig-lish, but there was a definite mixture of emotions welling up in that animal. I could tell he enjoyed momma's scratching, but he still held me fixed in his beady eyes, and the scratching was distracting him from his mission...which was possibly mutilation. 

"He'll get used to you." Her regular tone returned momentarily. "Just don't get too close. He likes toes." Then she was right back to Piglet-speak, "Toes taste even better than bacon, don't they Pig-Pig?"

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