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| That's Little on the far right. |
Little was born 15 weeks ago on the coldest night of the season, and all his litter mates died of hypothermia. He struggled a bit in his first days, but he made it. I named him Little Lonely because certain situations require a name and he was so small, and alone. Once you see a litter interact, to see only one with nobody showing him the ropes was sad. But he's a chunk now and in the past few days, the new litter of his grandmother, Eleanor, has been allowed to romp and run outside for the first time. I underestimated how happy it was to see Little with his own kind, a litter he never got to have [which is why he is now a super chunk]. This morning as Eleanor took a break in her wallow-it is very hot today-Cornelia snorted around for dropped feed, and Little graciously allowed the litter to snack on his private milk bar. I sat and imagined the conversation.
"Wow, you're a huge piglet," said one of the litter.
"I'm older than you, I think that's the reason," said Little.
"You have your very own milk bar, wow," said the largest piglet.
"It's okay to have some milk, but don't take it all," said Little.
"What are we going to do today?" asked the little red runt girl, politely.
Just then she got bashed by her bigger brothers, and Little touched her nose.
"You took a direct hit, but you're okay," he told her.
"I'm used to it, but I have gilt power," she said.
Just then Cornelia made an about face and the milk bar was once again on the run.
"It's hard eating and running, isn't it?" asked Little as they all ran by the running teats.
