We have a local farm nearby that we pass frequently, whether on our way to work or the store.
A couple months ago, I noticed two little cuties on the property:
On my way home from work, I always looked forward to the part of my drive that I got to see the pigs. I would come home and tell Scout what they were up to that day like they were my kids.
Shortly thereafter, Scout would come home and ask, "Did you see the pigs today?", or say, "I saw the pigs today; they were laying in the sun."
When we were driving together, we'd squint our eyes over to the big field and see who could spot them first. It was the farm version of I Spy.
Saturday evening as we were heading to the movies, the pigs were nowhere to be found. We shrugged it off and listed off some reasons they might not be there. Like, maybe they're sleeping. Or maybe they got moved to another piece of the property.
We didn't find out until today that they were attacked. By humans. Twice. (Don't worry, Meg. They survived both attacks.)
I know it must sound silly, but I feel a little bit invested in these pigs. My immediate response was to offer to pull security with my Remington 870.
What kind of person does this shit?