According to Cassandra Jenkins, there was nothing of big pig humor about little Chester

Not when he first came to live with her, there wasn't. Big pig humor? The little guy was still on the bottle! Even when he was grown enough to stand on his hind legs, peering curiously over the plank fence, his future growth remained a hidden factor... for a while.

But as Cassandra tells the story, it turned out the genetics were there. To grow a monster hog, you need the right genetics and plenty of food. She had the food to give, leftovers from a twenty acre apple orchard and a cider press plus scraps from her own table.

Chester grew.

One night, long after it had become clear the adorable piglet was going to set or at least challenge a few records, his owner went to bed exhausted. No longer young, the widow of seventeen years still ran the family business. Apple harvest was in full swing; sixteen hour days were common.

She stopped by the white oinker's pen with a pail of leavings. Far too heavy by this time to continue his earlier habit of standing on his hind legs to greet her at the fence, he merely stuck his nose into his trough and went to work, snuffling and grunting contentedly as his human scratched behind his ears.

That night, Cassandra had a dream.

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Chester the White
Copyright 2002 by Cassandra Jenkins

He was such a tiny thing, the day I saw him first
I fed him from a bottle; he had an awful thirst
Before I even noticed, he was eating solid chow
That little pig was not so big, yet not so little now

At first he slept right in my room in a box beside my bed
But soon he graduated to a pen out in the shed
When I saw how he was growing, that night I had a dream
Little Chester was no more; he was an eat-and-grow machine

At first he fed on apples, till he outgrew the pen
Then he ate a field of clover, and then another yet again
He found a barrel full of oats and a couple full of wheat
Washed them down with all the water running down Old Cripple Creek

To say that he got bigger would be like trying to compare
A newborn Chihuahua puppy with a full grown grizzly bear
It was no longer big pig humor but a battle to survive
I feared he'd eat the house by accident, not seeing me inside

He made a snack out of Godzilla; King Kong was running for the trees
Swallowed half the corn in Iowa without pausing to say please
Began to drink the Mississippi, had Paul Bunyan on the run
Big pig would have made a tasty barbecue but no one had that big a gun

By the time the dream was over and the alarm told me to wake
I shook pretty much all over and my brain began to bake
Of course it was exaggeration but one thing needs to be said
I will avoid my own hard cider when it's time to go to bed

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Publisher's note: A friend of ours read Cassandra's bit of big pig humor and promptly suggested we sponsor a Big Pig Humor writing contest. What do you think, folks? Would you like to see that, maybe put in an entry? If so, just click on Return To Publish Your Humor and drop us a note.

Thanks for reading,

Fred

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