For the Love of Dirt: OINK for BUTTERTUB

Edna pressed her nose to the window. Rain. Too soggy and boggy, she decided. How would she ever get out for a walk. The New Year had come in with a howl. Her five cats all lined up in a row on the window sill. It was their big thrill of the day, when Edna went out for a walk. But it didn’t look like Edna was going to oblige.

And there was, of course, the pig at her feet.

Last year, Edna brought home a smallish pink pig, with black spots. She called it her baby. Buttertub thought she was a cat. The cats knew she wasn’t one of them. But they went along with it, anyways. Buttertub had a stroller with a blue blankie. She sat in it while Edna had her tea, and feed Buttertub shortbread. The five cats sat on the table and waited for their treat as well. Sometimes ate their treats as well.

But now it was the New Year. And it rained day in day out. The cats jumped down to circle Buttertub, who plopped on the floor, her pink and black belly jiggling like melted lard. The cats patted her belly and snuggled in for a nap. Buttertub oinked in delight. She made smellies as she slept.

“There’s a hobby farm willing to take her,” she thought, as Buttertub burped in her sleep and the cats vied for the best spot.

Edna decided against the walk. It was almost time to make Buttertub’s dinner; turnips, radishes, eggplant, potatoes ( gave Buttertub gas, though),melons and berries. And pumpkin. She loved pumpkin bread and shortbread, and odd chunks of fruitcake.

As they slept, some of the cats licked Buttertub’s ears. She responded by burping in waves.

“Hmmmm,” thought Edna, “maybe less fruitcake,” as she hauled out veggies for dinner. She eyed the stroller, looking a little worse for wear.

It was a good size. But so was Buttertub . She barely fit in it with her blankie. She squealed to be put in. Squealed to be taken out. The cats all took turns clawing at it.

This December, Edna knitted a warm sweater for Buttertub. Bright pink .She also made little sweaters for her five cats. Bright pink as well. Edna wasn’t sure hot pink was their colour. Edna took Buttertub out for daily walks in the new sweater. The neighbour’s, out and about, made a point of mentioning how smart Buttertub looked. Watching from their windowsill, were the five cats , wearing their hot pink sweaters. Tails swishing.

When Edna returned with Buttertub, the cats had unraveled their sweaters and were busy leaping from table counter. Hot pink yarn everywhere. Buttertub thought it was great fun to chase the cats.

“Hobby farm,” Edna said to herself as she peeled potatoes.”There’s always the hobby farm.” Buttertub did NOT like the peels. Buttertub’s sweater was looking a little worn already. The cats liked pulling on the yarn. She rolled over in her sleep, belching up the latest cat kibble she had stolen. It woke her up. It woke up the cats. Edna chopped veggies into little pieces.

The cats sat expectantly in a row. It was treat time. Buttertub sat with them. Everyone got a treat. Buttertub got a radish. She didn’t think that was much of a treat. She oinked. Edna gave in and handed her a chunk of fruitcake.

“That’s the last of it,” she told her pig. “Your diet starts tomorrow”. The hobby farm could wait. Indefinitely. There were sweaters to remake.

She had new yarn, purple with sparkles. Matching sweaters for the cats. They obviously did NOT like pink. Purple would be better.

Edna put the veggies on the stove,in a large pot of water. She found her knitting needles. She’d have to measure Buttertub’s belly. The cats didn’t want to be measured for sweaters. Buttertub wanted more fruitcake. She got a radish instead.

Edna set to work, knit one, purl two…….. Buttertub happily sighed, and switched sides. The cats purred “three threads in a thrum” and rolled over with her.