Today is the 8th birthday of The-World's-Grumpiest-But-I'm-Fine-Just-the-Way-I-Am-Pig...aka Rosie.
Some of you may follow along and know that over a year ago, I found Rosie in the rain, shivering, and that was the day she left the goat barn for good to live in Old Barn. Over the warmer months, I have tried to entice her back out to the sun, but she is content in her private suite with a rooster or two, and visiting donkeys or sheep. The sun still shines down through the old fir floors from the upper hayloft. Rosie does not like interacting with others, never has, and we all know Stevie was the only one who really tolerated her grumpiness. But I miss her in the barnyard, I do.
I told her it was her birthday, which she knew, but she had no interest really.
Hrumpf ruperumph, she said, then ate her egg and kibble. She even tolerated me cleaning her eyes.
How we will get Rosie in the trailer when we move, I don't know. But I do plan on creating a private suite for her in Maine-in fact, I'd like to find some little pink rosebud wallpaper, vintage of course, and put it up on her wall, complete with her Rosie birdhouse.
{Read all the Rosie posts}
