Pigging out

My favorite pic from election day; the faces of Fox News anchors when they realized Obama had won

 

 

When I was a smaller kid than I am now, my dad used to take me to the stockyard to sell our shoats which usually weighed between one-hundred and two-hundred pounds (45 to 91 kilogram). For you city slickers, a shoat is a large pig that hasn’t yet become a hog. When we could, we “pen-hooked” them, saving us the cost of the auction. Pen-hooking was merely selling them from the truck; there were always several pen-hookers greeting each truck coming in.
It was easy work for me—especially if we didn’t have to go through the pens and auction—and left me with plenty of time to roam around. My favorite distraction was buying a steamy hot dog and a soda; twenty-five cents for both. Once, while scarfing my tasty meal, I looked over at the pens and one of our bigger shoats was watching me eat. I thought nothing of it at first but a few seconds later I looked back and the pig was still watching me and I swear he had a look of contempt on his snouty face. Somehow I knew the pig knew I was eating and enjoying one of his kinfolks, probably his uncle Ralph. For some reason I felt terribly embarrassed and quickly dropped the remainder of the frankfurter into a nearby trash barrel. Seeing this, the big pig grunted and turned his tail toward me and as soon as he did my guilt mostly left me and I retrieved my dog, wiped as much well-chewed tobacco spit from it as I could, and finished eating. I suppose parts of my porky accuser ended up in more hotdogs and maybe even as a country ham hanging in someone’s smokehouse. With my remorse mostly subsided, I eagerly awaited my next trip to the stockyards, knowing a fresh hotdog and soda awaited me.
Note: The stockyards were located less than a block from where Carolyn grew up; fortunately she lived up-wind from the stink of the place. She related a story to me about she and her cousin walking down to the yards one day and buying a baby goat. They led it home with them but her mamma made her return it and get her money back. A person could buy almost anything at the stockyards.

Have a great weekend, my friends.