Lewie really wanted to buy a pig. He was out of work and lonely. He was overeating. Like a time some years ago when he’d smoked so much reefer that he’d smoked himself straight, he was eating himself hungry. Bored with watching reruns of reruns, he found himself turning on the Home Shopping Club. That’s how bad things were getting. He couldn’t find a job. He couldn’t afford to go out. A pig would be a good companion for the long, empty days. The only reruns he could stand to watch anymore (besides Mr. Belvedere with Bob Uecker) were episodes of Green Acres that featured Arnold Ziffel, the pig.
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He’d sold his car, and after paying off his back rent, he had some money to spare. Though expensive, Vietnamese potbellied pigs are affectionate and intelligent. They like to cuddle with their owners and watch TV. They’re also small enough for apartment living. They can get heavy if they overeat, like the one the condo association on Lake Shore Drive sought to evict, calling it a farm animal. They’re bred on farms, but not really meant for them. You wouldn’t get too much bacon out of a potbelly. Fully grown, they average between 40 and 60 pounds and stand a foot high, about the size of a gym bag. If taken care of properly, they’re fine in apartments. They can be housebroken, and will go in a litter box. One owner built a rooting pen for his pig, like a playpen, with toys and pebbles in it. Another one likes to wax his floor and slide the pig across it like a round, bristly hockey puck. He says the pig likes it too.
He wanted that pig today. Tomorrow would take care of itself. Transportation could be borrowed. A couple of ads looked promising. He phoned a potbellied-pig breeder in the Peoria area and a friendly woman answered his call. She listened to his query and immediately cautioned him. “Caveat emptor, young man.”
Convinced, Lewie responded that it was a shame. “It is,” she said. “A person buys a piglet, raises it up, and falls in love with it. Two years later, they’re sharing their bedroom with a 300-pound hog. And what about the pig? What happens to him when his owner finds out that the cute little pet he thought he’d bought is a big old mud-bathing, slop-eating farm animal? What happens then?”
She couldn’t come down any more on the price. If Lewie wanted to take a look at some piglets, she’d be glad to arrange a time. Dispirited, Lewie wouldn’t go to the Peoria area just then. He thanked her for the warning. The price was higher than he could afford, and even if he did get a genuine registered potbelly, there were genuine problems to consider. Raising a pig didn’t seem like such a simple matter anymore.
Art accompanying story in printed newspaper (not available in this archive): photos/Charles Eshelman.
