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Stretching lazily as the morning sun crested the horizon, Clementine heaved her massive bulk up from her comfy spot wondering if breakfast was ready.

Greeting the steers politely, she began her rounds for the day. After a quick stop at the water barrel to refresh her morning mouth, she weaved in and out of the trees, pausing occasionally to root up a nice fat grub.

“This is a fine day for ambling down a wooded trail, ” Clementine thought to herself. The cool ground was just moist enough to pleasantly squish between her toes leaving a meandering path behind her. Coming upon her favorite tree she leaned sideways seesawing against the bark for her hard-to-reach itchy spot and was rewarded when some late season hickory nuts fell to the ground.

“Ah, manna from heaven,” she thought as she gobbled them up. Having satisfied the itch she continued walking. Her enormous snout wrinkled delightedly with the smorgasbord of fragrance wafting from the forest floor which 400 pound pigs are so fond of.

Spotting a fallen log in the distance, she made a mental note to circle back around and check it out for potential snacks. She arrived at the barbed wire fence of the back pasture and surveyed the field for her Jersey friends. The cows raised their heads greeting Clementine with fronds of hay hanging from their mouths. They opined their agreement as to the condition of the day in between their mastications. Three pair of eyes followed Clementine’s progress with curiosity.

The pig ambled on, only to freeze a few seconds later, pancake ears flapping to attention. Clementine’s quivering nose detected a new sound and scent in the air.

“What’s that?” Clementine’s heart began to beat faster as her rumbling inquisitive grunts accelerated. There seems to be quite the stramash in that little round pen with sounds and smells strangely familiar. As she stood staring, squinting in an attempt to squeeze a little focus from her myopic vision she heard the rattle of feed hitting her dish. Making a beeline for her trough she danced (none too daintily, I might add) about the little round woman. As she imbibed on the scrumptious milk soaked feed she attempted to inquire regarding the cause of the stramash.

Giving up conversation for the moment (pigs do take eating seriously, you know) she settled into the joy of being a pig and dove after the food with gusto. At the same time, she kept a close ear out for any approaching dogs or cows who might try to horn in on her feast. As the little round woman patted her back and scratched her ears, Clementine gazed up with adoration, her snaggletooth grin dripping milk.

“Oh Clementine, you have the face only a mother could love,” said the little round woman, “but love you I do, my darling Clementine!” Clementine’s tail wagged in appreciation.

As the woman departed, Clementine realized she’d forgotten to inquire about the noisy pen, so she paced the fence line, hoping a cow would wander by so she could figure out what was going on. Hours later, after several naps, a lack of bovine visitors, and a forage or two, Clementine was still pacing when the little round woman reappeared.

“What’s up, Clementine? You’ve been hanging around this fence most of the day. Are you wanting to meet our new piglets?” she inquired as she opened the gate to let Clementine in.

Almost beside herself, Clementine trundled towards the pen, the ground practically trembling under her bulk. Upon her arrival, two little noses popped up out of the hay! Clementine circled the pen and began her piggy purr, “Why it’s two darling babies! I love babies!”

The little round woman watched with affection as Clementine pushed some hay up close to the ring, nestling down quite comfortably so her they could all touch noses and converse with motorboat sounds contentedly all night long. “Yes,” Clementine thought, “it is indeed a fine day.”

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