Mikey

A few years ago Brian and I decided that we needed to create some extra memories before the kids grew up and started leaving home, so naturally, we got a pig. A baby potbelly pig on Christmas morning is not something easily forgotten. Brooks was the lucky recipient of the pet and without hesitation, Brooks named him Mikey. Mikey was by far the most brilliant pet we've ever had. He was potty trained within 24 hours. He was clean, he was funny, and he was clever. But one thing Mikey was not was little, at least for long. He grew into a good-sized pig with tusks, a mohawk, and appropriately, a potbelly. I swear the only thing that never grew were his legs. He was so top-heavy it seemed scientifically wrong. Above all things Mikey loved food and his belly scratched. If you scratched him just right he would literally fall over. Brooks was Mikey's master and everyone knew it. He obeyed Brooks and was quick to respond when he heard Brooks call. One thing he didn't like was our dog, B, a schnorkie who loved to get in his face and taunt him. Mikey would normally ignore her but B was persistent. On one occasion, Mikey must've had enough of B so he laid down and played dead. B sniffed and prodded him but he didn't move. After a short time, B lost interest and ran off. As soon as Mikey noticed she was gone he got up and continued eating. Play dead = annoying dog leaves. Genius! Mikey went on to bigger and better things last week. New home, new family, new adventure. We aren't sad. We are relieved that we won't have a pig for thirty years. (Who knew that pigs live for 30 years?!) We are grateful for the memories we made and hope that the kids will look back on their childhood someday and realize that having weird parents isn't all bad. I mean, who else gets a pig for Christmas?