Spotted Pigs and Green Tomatoes Read Online Free PDF Page A

two little pigs stand there, legs rigid, ears forward, surprised, distressed
     looks on their faces. They turn to try and join the group who are gathered near the gate, hoping that David or I will feed
     them the hard little inedible pears that have fallen from the tree growing beside the wall. Babe immediately shoulders them
     aside and gives Blossom another nip on the back. The two other most recent arrivals - the Empress of Dillington and her sister,
     Hyacinth, two small Berkshires - stand to one side, and I swear a look of relief can be seen in their eyes. They are no longer
     the newcomers, the butt of the jokes. Berkshires are black with fabulous white noses, and have an inexhaustible capacity for
     stuffing themselves. Both she and Hyacinth have literally made themselves sick by eating too many pears. Their hearty appetites
     make me confident that P. G. Wodehouse's great creation, the Empress of Blandings, best beloved pig of the Earl of Emsworth
     and three times winner of the Fat Pigs Competition at the South Shropshire Agricultural Show, has a thoroughly worthy namesake.
    Charlie has collected a big bunch of the bacon weed which grows so freely all over the nursery and he throws it into the run
     as a welcome gift for the newcomers. The pigs fall on it with enthusiasm, chomping up the leaves and stalks, emitting grunts
     of pure happiness. 'Think of it this way,' he says, 'we could have bought a Mercedes instead.'
    The Mere might be more appropriate for a QC and a journalist, but, as they say, stuff happens, chances come and go, and here
     we are with the pigs, the chickens, the newly planted vegetables and a plan but, in truth, very little idea of what we are
     doing and what is going to happen next.

2
    The Cleverest of Animals

    The pigs make their first escape on a Sunday morning in October. The week before, the boys' run had been extended back into
     the wood, in the direction of the main house. It's a thickly wooded area, made up mostly of pines and laurels. A heavy-duty
     electric fence delineates their area, but not well enough, it turns out. At eight in the morning, before we have even gone
     downstairs to let the dogs out and collect the Sunday papers, the phone rings; it's one of the staff at Dillington House,
     calling to tell us that there are seven little pigs out on the main lawn having a field day. And they are. Pigs love worms
     and grubs, so using their muscular noses they have pushed up the top layer of turf, exposing the new soil underneath for grubbing
     and rootling. Seven little tails are curled in pleasure as they zip around the lawn, churning up the soil like a fleet of
     small rotavators. By the time we arrive, they have attracted a small crowd of Dillington House course members. Cameras are
     out and everyone is laughing, enjoying this laddish bid for freedom.
    There's something fascinating about pigs. Churchill memorably remarked that 'cats look down on you, dogs look up to you, but
     pigs treat you as an equal'. They do. Perhaps it's because they're smart - smarter than dogs, as tests have shown - perhaps
     it's because their faces are so full of expression. Haughty, curious, engaging, surprised, busy: they seem to run the gamut
     of emotions. All animals are not equal, whether we like it or not. Some are more equal, more interesting, more able to grab
     the imagination. We all know that dogs have that magic ingredient. Sheep don't. Pigs do. It was no accident that George Orwell
     cast a pig as the ruler of his farmyard. The task of organising the others 'fell naturally upon the pigs, who were generally
     recognised as being the cleverest of animals', while the sheep were content to lie around in the field bleating 'Four legs
     good, two legs bad! Four legs good, two legs bad' for hours on end.
    Babe and the other six breeding females, or gilts, have organised their pen with military thoroughness. Not for them any confusion
     about where they sleep, eat or go to the lavatory. Each area