The Dogs and Pork Chop Hamlet

This is a very true story. And who ever said that living out in the country is "The Quiet Life" is lying.

As I have probably told you before, we live in the country, so we have always had too many animals, but that's another story. Granddaughter Stephanie tried to have a Dog Rescue Mission at our house but she was only here from Friday night until Sunday afternoon or Monday morning. So guess who got to do all of the work. Not Grandpa and Grandma! YES

So a few years ago we ended up with three animals. Two dogs and a Pot Belly Pig. The pig was really not a problem because he thought he was a dog. Our yard is almost completely fenced with chain link fencing. The house came that way when it was bought over 30 years ago. So the pig just learned to bark and chase cars on the inside of our fence.

He fit right in until he started to eat the kitchen floor. We took him to school for "show and tell" time. It was fun to watch him so we named him P.C Hamlet for Pork Chop Hamlet and he continued to thrive and eat more kitchen floor until Jerry said, "O.K. We are going to have a pig sale".

Since we already had two dogs, I did not worry much about it, until one day in March, I ordered two sets of sheets with Battenberg Lace and some towels from Profitts' Department Store and they were delivered by the postman. I had just taken a bath and washed my hair when I heard the postman blow his horn more than once. The dogs were barking and the pig was going crazy, so I grabbed a towel and wrapped my hair and grabbed another towel and wrapped it tightly around my body and I ran like crazy because by now the postman was leaning on his horn which just made things worse. I ran as fast as I could go to get outside and show the postman that I was home.

But I forgot one thing, the dogs would not recognize me with my hair covered , wet and under a towel. And my body was not too dry either. The March wind was whipping around and I just wanted to get back inside, but the postman (who was almost 90 years old and cranky as he could be and showed me no mercy) and was standing there with three boxes for which I had to sign with one hand on the towel on my hair and the other hand trying to hold the towel around my body all the time trying to calm the dogs down while they attacked my towel. Finally I just gave up because I figured that the postman was too old to see much and I really did not have that much to see anyway, but it was the grin on his face that I really wanted to knock off.

My towels went somewhere with the wind.

I had three boxes a laying, two dogs a barking and a pig I was going to knock up into the blooming pair tree.

The next week, our postman retired, I sold the Pot Belly pig in the Knoxville News Sentinel and we had to have the kitchen floor replaced..

'til later, Patsy