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Piggies Farewell
A Poem by Bill Garvey, Christmas '98

Maria and Peter
A life's dream had they;
To become country dwellers
And grow veggies and hay.

They bought a farm
In a beautiful setting
And by and by,
Some creatures for petting.

There were ducks and horses
And hens to lay eggs
A pair of cute puppies
And two beautiful pigs.

Now horses and puppies
And hens and sheep
Are not transient animals,
But friends that you keep.

But, then, there are pigs,
And with pigs, it's quite clear;
They reach their maturity
In less than a year.

And a pig is not cuddly
Or handsome, or cute;
Usually mud covered
From tail to snoot.

So when autumn winds tell you
It's that time of year,
The fate of miss piggy
Becomes very clear.

It's one day of fasting,
Then into a van,
Then off to become
Smoked bacon and ham.

Oh! the plan was quite simple
Just a ramp up the van,
And with a bit of coaxing,
T'would be pork in the pan.

But, a pig is a creature
With ways of its own,
And the trail of patience
Was soon to be shown.

We coaxed and cajoled
We soothed and consoled.
We made sounds like
Other pigs chewing.

The sows responded
With glances that said
Do you think we don't know
What you're doing?

The professor, by now,
Quite annoyed with one sow,
Says, "I'll try a psychology trick;
Come here to me
Where Maria can't see,
And I'll psych you out
With this stick.

One pig conceded
When Maria pleaded
And offered a big pail of food.
The other stood firm
And squealed her concern
A pig with a real attitude.

Now, Peter was slowly
Loosing his cool
And Maria was giving up hope.
When we finally decided
To tie the pig up
And we pulled her in
With a rope.

On the trip into town
We had now quieted down,
One would think
We had all been sedated.
Peter kept peeking;
Is the van driver sleeping?
While the two sows
In the back meditated.

We finally arrived
At the end of our drive
And the piggies last destination.
What happened then
I won't try to pen,
But will leave up to imagination.

The bacon was tender
The roasts a delight
And the chops, a delicate treat.
But Maria will never
Raise pigs again,
For she believes---
You are what you eat.