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Once there was a pig named porker. He had to be the fattest pig you would ever see in your life. Porker simply never stopped eating until one day shortly after Christmas he decided to go on a diet. All Porker ate during this time were little leaves from plants. Until one day the farmer said to Porker, “Hey you fat Porker pie, you’re too thin. We need to fatten you up for the meat market.”


Porker replied mechanically. “Farmer Watson, I simply can’t get any fatter. I am on a diet.”


This of course came out as a squeal that no one could understand.


” Well we shall see. I might have to get Bill the butcher with his meat cleavers.”


But Porker did not understand either. Humans and other animals did not really ever understand each other.


Porker had a clever plan to see how he could defeat the barbaric Bill the Butcher and the greedy and self centred Farmer Peter Watson.


But before he had a chance to gather his thoughts a strange thing happened.


Porker heard a slight whisper on the breeze. 


“Plants have feelings too, oh yes we do.”


“What, confounded noise was that? I am not losing my marbles am I Teresa?” Teresa the sheep bayed gruffly, “it could be a warning from above, a sign of the times. 



“No, don’t listen to her,” neighed Henry the horse. “She’s cream-crackered, totally barmy”


But then he heard the same voice again. 

“Plants have feelings too, oh yes we do.”


This time it added more. “Why do you hurt us, Porker? You chewed me up and spat me out then…”


” No. Can this really be true?”


A cabbage pinched him on the snout.


” Ppplease. What have I done to deserve this?”


“You eat us, you’re greedy, a big fat porky pig!’


“No I am not!”


“Yes you are!”


“Please don’t hurt me.”


“He’s going to the butchers tomorrow to be cut to pieces, ha ha ha.”


Then the voices stopped and Porker hatched his plan. In the dead of night he found some poison in the farmers shed, and discovered a simple stable boy with a pale of milk that he knew was drunk by the farmer. Quick witted Porker found the farmers pesticide and with his snout and hooves hosed a large amount into the pale. 



The next day the farmer was poorly, ill. Bill the butcher was not called out. When grave news that the death of the farmer and his wife were announced, a strain of guilt went through his heart.


Porker could hear the plants mocking and growing dissent among the animals enticed him to a noble urge, he placed himself under an awning and with his hind legs offered himself as food for all the animals of the farm who in turn wrote a placard. 


Bill the butcher was very sad. His business had gone down the pan. But by a masterstroke of fate he opened a gate. With pigs trotter on the table he was pleased to have caught the beastly pest , Porker, who had in fact done a runner leaving an already dead pig on the side who was not him. So  Porker’s escape was complete. He was much more than just a piece of meat.


About Geraldine Ward

Geraldine Ward has been writing and performing various forms of poetry and prose from an early age, and is a regular contributor at the London Farrago Poetry Slam nights. She has published a number of books including the "Now" collection, and has featured in other publications including Katie Metcalfe's "Beautiful Scruffiness" series of magazines.


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