tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12684433.post8364207606269131455..comments2023-11-03T03:56:09.844-05:00Comments on wildpeculiarjoy: The Pig StoryJohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14061337641173075397noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12684433.post-17957894326963870912008-01-17T22:18:00.000-05:002008-01-17T22:18:00.000-05:00My husband grew up on a little farm in MN. I think...My husband grew up on a little farm in MN. I think all the pigs had the same name, they were all Sally. I guess that's one way not to get too close to your eventual food. <BR/><BR/>Reading Beverly's comments reminded me of one of my daughter's teachers. He had two cows name Roasty and Beefy. No disguising their destiny.Life's a Stitchhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05608285265611816717noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12684433.post-32318435939835292532008-01-17T13:28:00.000-05:002008-01-17T13:28:00.000-05:00Joey! I can't believe you forgot Loner's name!I r...Joey! I can't believe you forgot Loner's name!<BR/><BR/>I remember putting the leash on him and taking him for a walk :)Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12684433.post-40000102838971602032008-01-15T14:36:00.000-05:002008-01-15T14:36:00.000-05:00That's why I could never have a farm--eating the a...That's why I could never have a farm--eating the animals. Reminds me of the farm my sister's high school boyfriend had. Two of the cows were named Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb. Sis loved them. They were like pets. Then boyfriend's mom invited her to dinner one night. They had steak. From guess where? She couldn't eat. I wouldn't have been able to either.Beverlyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15360686393599560866noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12684433.post-51304198544963159502008-01-15T14:06:00.000-05:002008-01-15T14:06:00.000-05:00Loner...hee hee!Thanks for the story!Loner...hee hee!<BR/><BR/>Thanks for the story!Bezziehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11359396377873745454noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12684433.post-67752809820288781632008-01-15T11:28:00.000-05:002008-01-15T11:28:00.000-05:00great story. Loner...very cute.great story. Loner...very cute.tarahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08129285323616725966noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12684433.post-21456659012907787002008-01-15T02:19:00.000-05:002008-01-15T02:19:00.000-05:00"It was one of those times after I had given him h..."It was one of those times after I had given him his bottle and he had fallen asleep that he peed all over me."<BR/><BR/>I don't remember that happening to Fern Arable.<BR/><BR/>My friend raised pigs once but she was so grief-stricken on slaughter day, not even ham-for-an-army was enough to console her. And that's saying something.Shanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10704810407872873565noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12684433.post-19014175723824350192008-01-15T01:29:00.000-05:002008-01-15T01:29:00.000-05:00Loner the pig! How cute is that!?!?!?! I grew up o...Loner the pig! How cute is that!?!?!?! I grew up on a farm too. It seems idyllic now, but I definite shoveled my share of poop and pull about a million weeds. It's a great experience to have though.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08524593912913005806noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12684433.post-34428251476502482792008-01-15T00:46:00.000-05:002008-01-15T00:46:00.000-05:00The pigs name was loner DadThe pigs name was loner<BR/><BR/> DadAnonymousnoreply@blogger.com