Pickled Pigs Feet
November 5 | Hmmm...No Comments Yet
I hear that expression a lot from my mother as we watch Dr. Phil from the safety of our couch. I don’t think she’s calling the good Dr. a pig, although I suspect he feeds at a trough. She aims her sharp attack at the witless men on the TV screen who seem to have difficulty grasping the concept of fidelity.
Now I can say, “What a pig!” too, but for an entirely different reason. Check out this story.
You can’t get much happier than a pig in muck, or so we are told.
But when this little piggy arrived in the farmyard she showed a marked reluctance to get her trotters dirty.
While her six brothers and sisters messed around in the mire, she stayed on the edge shaking. It is thought she might have mysophobia – a fear of dirt.
A pig, fearing dirt. That’s like a dog fearing social interaction, a cat fearing afternoon naps or Rosie O’Donnell fearing an all you can eat buffet. It’s unheard of.
Owners Debbie and Andrew Keeble were at a loss, until they remembered the four miniature wellies used as pen and pencil holders in their office. They slipped them on the piglet’s feet – and into the mud she happily ploughed.
In case you are wondering, welllies are boots. My parents tried putting some wellies on me once, to keep me from sliding on the hardwood floors in the house. I gotta be honest, didn’t like ‘em one bit. But then again, I’m not a filthy pig.
Here’s where the story takes an interesting twist:
The couple, who run the award-winning Debbie and Andrew’s sausage company in Thirsk, North Yorkshire, named the young saddleback Cinders after Cinderella and her magical glass slippers.
‘Hopefully she will grow out of her phobia of mud before she needs a new set of boots.’
And when Cinder does need new boots, she’ll end up at the breakfast table…well on it, along with a few eggs, sunny side up.